Chapter 12

TWELVE

MAEVE

I was tired of scheming. I was tired of stress. I was tired of not knowing what to believe.

Mature adults faced their problems head on. But, I never claimed to be a mature adult. Instead, I melted into the bean bag chair on my living room floor and scrolled SocialFace looking at photos of Elliot out at some bar with Tatianna last night.

His face was partially hidden in every shot, but it was clearly him. And Tatianna looked absolutely thrilled to be by his side and some other guy’s side, too.

Bradford told me Elliot was sleeping with her. Then of course he’d gone and kissed me. I threw up in my mouth a little just thinking about it.

Seeing Elliot with another woman hurt.

It brought back all of those awful feelings I’d had after Amir’s wedding, seeing Bradford with Tatianna.

It wasn’t the same. But I couldn’t help but focus on the parallels.

Sure we hadn’t made any declarations or promises about being exclusive, but I thought he felt the same way I did. I hoped he did, and that was dumb because I hadn’t even figured out exactly how I felt about him.

Even if Elliot was sleeping with Tatianna, it didn’t mean he was an entirely different person than I thought he was. I had to give him some credit, otherwise I was the absolute worst judge of character.

If Elliot was really pressuring Otto to sell, well, I couldn’t forgive anyone messing with my arcade.

But I couldn’t trust Bradford either.

I should have talked to Otto about everything right away yesterday, but I’d been so shaken after the Bradford incident, Otto had sent me home.

I’d been nervous about crossing paths with Elliot in the hall last night, so I took the back stairwell that no one except Vivian ever used. That woman was ridiculous with her commitment to getting her steps in.

Elliot didn’t text or call when I didn’t reach out about our dinner plans. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed about that.

And now I’d spent the better part of today freaking out and trying to process.

What was it about Tatianna that made her so much better than me?

I mean, she was beautiful.

Elliot said I was beautiful.

Nothing good would come from comparing. I’d met her. She was a perfectly pleasant person, and she’d known Elliot first, and this time if anything, it was me who was the other woman.

I needed a new dating pool, one very far outside the cesspit I was currently drowning in. No, I needed to not date ever again. That would solve all of my problems.

Or at least most of them.

There was one other problem I could actually address now. I shoved a Goldfish cracker in my mouth, because I was apparently a masochist, and needed another reminder of Elliot.

Then I called Otto. “Hey, sorry to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother.” He shuffled around and crinkled something. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” I lied.

“How could you be?”

Obviously, I didn’t have an answer for that. I was a mess of dried snot and tears, covered in Goldfish crumbs, tottering on the edge of ripping out my hair.

“Do you need anything?” Otto asked. “I could bring by some matzo ball soup.”

“No. I’ll be okay.” There, that wasn’t a lie, maybe. “I have food. Do you know Elliot Barlowe?”

“Oh, yes, nice young man. He came by a few months back. He’s doing a revitalization of the neighborhood. He wanted to help with the arcade.”

Nice young man didn’t sound like Otto felt pressured or scammed. Playing it cool, I asked, “He wanted to buy it from you?”

“No, he wanted to invest a piece of his inheritance from his grandfather. He wants to fix up the whole neighborhood in his grandfather’s memory.”

His grandfather. Of course that’s where his money came from.

“I had a lawyer look over his offer, and it was quite generous. It’s basically a loan that I’d pay off over time, while keeping the doors open.”

It sounded like exactly what the arcade needed. Except Otto told me he was closing down, which meant… “You declined. Why?”

“Because it would only buy us more time. It wouldn’t change anything about the arcade’s trajectory.”

“But you could have used the money for marketing. For…ads or something.”

“People don’t want to go to arcades anymore, not like they used to.”

“There are still big arcades out there.”

“The ones that focus on selling alcohol and the gambling type machines. It’s not what I want for Glitch.”

What about what I wanted? I didn’t want to lose this place. I wanted it to stay kid friendly. I wanted to bring in more people. I wanted this to be a place for kids like Riley and Bruce, the same kind of sanctuary it had always been for me.

“I understand you love this place,” Otto said. “I do, too. If there was anything to pass, I’d pass you the torch. But it’s unkind to pass someone you care about a burning building.”

“I’m going to figure out how to save it,” I said. Maybe it wasn’t too late to accept Elliot’s offer on Otto’s behalf. If I was going to go to him, though, I needed to prepare myself first.

For the personal crushing of my heart.

With a plan to implement the investment the right way.

I needed time, the one thing the arcade didn’t have.

“Come by the arcade tonight, at six,” Otto said.

“I don’t really feel up to hanging out right now. Plus it’s Christmas Eve-Eve. Shouldn’t you close up early and spend holiday time with your wife?”

“Promise you’ll be here.”

“Sure, fine.”

There was a knock on my door. I got off the phone with Otto and checked the peep hole to see who was here.

Standing in front of my door with a coat that probably cost more than my lifetime earnings was a man whose name and presence rivaled that of a supervillain.

Viktor Armstrong.

I had no idea what Bradford’s father’s middle name was, but I would guess something along the lines of Dreamcrusher . Then again, the man had never been anything but coldly cordial to me.

I opened the door.

“Maeve, may I come in.” The words implied a question, but his tone made clear it was a statement that didn’t require a response.

“No.”

He raised one sharp brow just a smidge. “We have personal matters to discuss, matters not fit for a public setting.”

“You can talk to me here or not at all.”

He clenched his jaw ever so slightly. Everything was slight with him, including the way he treated his son.

“If you insist,” he said. “I’m here to discuss my son. According to my assistant, something is amiss with his internet…life.”

His assistant must have noticed the ridiculous trophy pics that I’d posted. Honestly, I was surprised Viktor cared about his son’s mental health.

“There have been photos depicting a less than flattering image of him,” Viktor said.

“Yep.”

“I can’t tolerate an Armstrong behaving in such a manner. It’s unbefitting of his station.”

“You don’t want him making you look bad.”

He clenched his jaw again, this time less subtly than before.

“That’s a you problem. Try talking to your son about your beef with him.”

“I’ve locked his trust fund. You’re his girlfriend. You need to?—”

“No. Bradford is a spoiled manchild desperate for Daddy’s attention and approval. I am not dating him, nor will I speak to him ever again in the future. If he comes to my work or my home, I will not hesitate to call the police.”

Viktor’s expression fell.

Boom. I’d stunned him.

“You both need therapy. Go forth, heal and be better people, or don’t. I don’t care. I’m done. Bye bye.”

I slammed the door, heart racing with the thrill of it all.

Then, I checked through the peephole for one last look at his stunned expression. But he was already leaving.

Good riddance.

The first thing I wanted to do was tell Elliot what had just happened. I could text. I could show up at his door. I wanted to do both.

But I didn’t know what he wanted. Maybe he would choose Tatianna over me. And as much as I wanted to see him, I wasn’t ready just yet. First, I needed to tell him exactly how I felt and what I wanted. I was done holding back.

I wanted the arcade to thrive. I wanted Elliot.

I was done playing it safe with my heart.

I would go for it all.