Maggie frowned at her friend. They’d known each other since they were tots and Olivia was clearly not telling her something. They’d driven to Boston together, taking Maggie’s car. They’d dropped off Maggie’s things at the small apartment Olivia still had from her days with a Boston design studio and then walked over to the hotel. Dylan was already there, in costume, with Noah and his NHL friends.
Olivia drank some of her champagne. Her behavior was definitely awkward, Maggie thought. “Olivia? What’s going on?”
“I wouldn’t bet good money that Brandon’s at a sports bar watching the Red Sox tonight.”
“What? Olivia—is the pirate Brandon?”
“I told you I don’t know for sure.” Olivia again hesitated. “I think Brandon may have been in touch with Dylan.”
Maggie felt her mouth drop open but she quickly snapped it shut again. “In touch how? Why?”
“I don’t know. The Sloans are working on Dylan’s place. Maybe Brandon stopped by.”
“He doesn’t live in Knights Bridge. That’s my life.”
“His family’s there. The boys.”
“Believe me, I know.”
Maggie heard the bitterness in her own voice and regretted it. Don’t do this tonight, she told herself. Let Brandon live his own life. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? She shook off her confusion, her sense of violation—as if he had deliberately inserted himself into the new life she was building for herself, without him. She took in a deep breath. She prided herself on staying calm amid the chaos that her life sometimes threw at her as she juggled the multiple demands of her busy catering schedule, her two young sons, her three sisters, her widowed mother.
Her estranged husband.
She looked into the crowd to see if she could spot the pirate. It had to be Brandon.
She forced another smile at her friend. “We’ll sort everything out later. We’re Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn tonight, right?”
Olivia looked visibly relieved at Maggie’s cheerful tone. “Come on. Let’s go find Dylan. Noah’s around here somewhere, too. You’ll have to meet him.”
Maggie spotted Dylan alone by the doors out to the ballroom lobby. “He’s on his way over here now. Why don’t you two dance?”
“I’m not going to abandon you if you’re upset about Brandon—”
“Nothing I’m not used to. Don’t worry about me. If Brandon is the pirate, he had his chance to annoy me and resisted. I’m fine, honestly. Go.”
When Olivia turned, Dylan was already in front of her. He took her in his arms and whisked her onto the dance floor. He moved like a hockey player on ice, Maggie thought, smiling as her friend snuggled close to her fiancé. Olivia had reinvented her life, too. She was doing well, and Maggie was glad to see her so happy.
A thick arm went around her waist. “No wallflowers allowed,” the pirate whispered into her ear.
Brandon.
Maggie recognized his deep voice, his touch, but she pretended not to know it was him as she put a hand on his shoulder and let him spin her onto the dance floor. She’d be Grace Kelly in her flowing blue dress. Cool, calm, controlled, as if she were dancing with Cary Grant. But why was Brandon here? She let her questions die on her lips as he pulled her close to him. Did he know he was dancing with her—with his wife, the mother of his children?
Of course he knew.
He settled a hand on the curve of her hip. “Shh. Let’s just dance.”
It was what she wanted, too. Just to dance. To pretend he was about to lift her into his arms and carry her off as he had so many times in the past.
How long had it been since he had held her like this?
There had been only one man in her life. Brandon Sloan. They had been so right together…and then so wrong. Money, pride, dreams, the busyness of life. They’d let them all erode what they’d had together.
She had so many questions. So much she wanted to say to him.
“Do you know Dylan McCaffrey?”
Brandon didn’t hear her, or pretended not to as he held her close.
Maggie almost didn’t notice when the music stopped. He released her and smiled that rogue’s smile of his. “You’re beautiful, Maggie O’Dunn Sloan.”
Then he was gone, and by the time Maggie pulled herself together, she was standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, wondering if she’d imagined him. Tears burned in her eyes but she hoped, with the mask, that no one would notice.
Suddenly she felt hot in her Grace Kelly dress, ridiculous.
Noah Kendrick eased in next to her in his swashbuckler costume and slipped off his mask. “Maggie, I’m Noah Kendrick. Dylan’s friend. Can I get you a glass of water?”
“I’m all right, thanks. Just…just hot.”
“The costumes have their drawbacks.”
“They get us thinking about fantasies, don’t they?” Maggie appreciated his diplomacy. As Phoebe had said yesterday, it was a slippery slope to want what you knew you couldn’t have. Maggie cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, wondering if it really could have been her sister who had danced with the California billionaire. Dylan’s friend, and now Olivia’s friend. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Noah.”
He gave a mock bow. “A pleasure to meet you, too, Maggie.”
“Have you enjoyed your evening? Who was that you were dancing with?”
He frowned. “I never got her name. Did you see where she went?”