Maggie narrowed her eyes on her friend. “Olivia?”
“I think I may have given him the impression that she’s here. He mentioned that his princess’s eyes reminded him of the color of your eyes. Not that he thought it was you he danced with. I don’t think he assumes she was related to you. Just that I know more than I’ve let on, which now I do, for sure. I thought maybe it was Ava or Ruby, only because Phoebe was so adamant about not going to the ball.”
“She prides herself on paying her own way,” Maggie said.
Olivia nodded. “I can appreciate that.”
“Phoebe feels she always has to be the sensible one. It’s because the rest of us are all nuts. My mother and the twins and me. We’re dreamers. We always have a bunch of different things going on at once. We’ve never been good with money. It’s bad enough that I’m like that, but then I married a guy who’s like that, too.”
“You’ve done right by yourself and the boys,” Olivia said. “That’s what matters.”
“I’m always afraid I’ll go just that one step too far in my catering business, and it’ll all come crashing down on my head. I tell myself that I’d work it out if I did make a mess of things.” Maggie forced a smile. “We’d just move in with my mother and the goats.”
Olivia groaned, but her mood was noticeably lighter. She fingered the handle of her suitcase. “I can postpone this trip to San Diego.”
“No, that would only look suspicious, and you need to get out there and see where Dylan’s from, what his life before he met you was like. You’ll love it. I remember Brandon and I had pi?a coladas at the Hotel del Coronado. We didn’t stay there. Too expensive. Noah said Dylan’s house is just up the street.”
“Dylan warned me it has no color. Everything in it is white, cream or cappuccino.” Olivia laughed, only a slight strain in her voice as she continued, “I’m sure it’s grand, but Knights Bridge has its charms.”
“You two can always have a bicoastal life if you want to. You’ll figure it out. No angsting, okay? Just go and enjoy yourself.”
“I will. Promise. You’ll keep an eye on Noah and Phoebe?”
“There is no Noah and Phoebe, Olivia.”
“You know what I mean.”
Maggie blew out a breath, calmer if no more certain of what was going on. “Noah must have all kinds of help in San Diego. Think he’ll manage here on his own?”
“He’s a genius. He’ll manage.” With a welcome smile, Olivia added, “Besides he’ll have Buster.”
“Maybe he can keep that mutt of yours from digging in the garden.” Maggie wasn’t one of Buster’s big fans, but she noticed Olivia’s smile fade and knew she was thinking about the long flight across the country. “Liv, come on. You flew to England and back with Dylan not that long ago. That went fine. This will, too.”
“I know it will but I still…” Olivia didn’t finish, just stared at her suitcase.
“I know. It’s okay.”
“Yeah.” She looked up, smiled. “Noah already thinks I’m hiding something. I don’t want to end up drawing attention to Phoebe by suddenly bailing on the trip. Does she regret last night?”
Maggie thought a moment, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think she regrets it one little bit. She just doesn’t want to get caught.”
“If she knew it was Noah Kendrick—”
“I’m not telling her and neither are you, because you, my friend, are going to be in San Diego. Bring me back two stuffed giraffes from the zoo.” She grinned at her longtime friend. “Not life-size ones.”
They chatted a few more minutes, deciding on a plan of action to deal with Phoebe’s note, and when Maggie headed back downstairs, she noticed that Dylan had joined Noah on the terrace. They seemed relaxed. She left them to their drinks in the shade and went back to her van.
She rolled down the windows and listened to the water flowing over rocks in the brook across the road, the twitter of birds hidden in the trees. Was she focusing on Phoebe’s situation with Noah as a distraction from thinking about Brandon, or did she have good reason to worry about her sister?
“Time will tell,” she muttered, starting her van.
She felt only mildly guilty for not mentioning her encounter with Brandon last night. Olivia would want to know but she was just getting a handle on her anxiety over flying, and she didn’t need more excuses to keep her from making this trip to San Diego.
So it was good, Maggie decided, that she’d kept quiet about that dance with her pirate of a husband.
After all, what were friends for?
She sniffled, suddenly wanting nothing more than to go bike-riding with her sons, listen to their tales of their overnight with their maternal grandmother. When Maggie had checked in that morning, her mother had them picking tomatoes for fresh homemade sauce. Nothing like the prospect of spaghetti for supper to motivate them.