That I believe. I think Maggie would much rather live in a place where she could get away with being lax. “I believe you. And I agree,” I say. “We’re here because Warren and Ridge are going to be your primary caregivers when you’re sick. I think we need to leave Bridgette’s feelings out of it. And mine. And honestly, even yours. This is about how we can make things easier on Warren and Ridge, and you living in the same complex as them will definitely make things easier on them.”
Maggie nods. “I know. But I don’t want to cause trouble between Warren and Bridgette. I think it should ultimately be yours and Bridgette’s decision, but I don’t think she’ll ever agree to it. I honestly don’t blame her.”
She’s right. It should be something we all agree to. I turn my head toward the door and yell, “Bridgette!”
I hear a chair scoot across the floor, followed by dramatic stomps heading in the direction of Maggie’s bedroom. Bridgette finally opens the door, but she leans against the doorframe and folds her arms across her chest.
I pat the bed. “Come here, Bridgette.”
“I’m fine right here.”
I look at her like I would look at an ornery child. “Get your ass over here right now.”
Bridgette stomps to the bed and throws herself across the foot of it. She’s being just as dramatic as Warren was being when he threw himself on Maggie’s couch earlier. Their intense similarities make me want to laugh. Bridgette stares at me and avoids eye contact with Maggie.
I lean back against the headboard and tilt my head as I look at her. “What are you feeling, Bridgette?”
She rolls her eyes and lifts up onto her elbow. “Well, Dr. Blake,” she says sarcastically, “I feel like the ex-girlfriend of both of our boyfriends is about to move into the same apartment complex as us, and I don’t like it.”
“You think I do?” Maggie says.
Bridgette looks at her. There is absolutely no love between the two of them. At all.
“How long have you two known each other?” I ask.
“She moved in with Ridge and Warren a few months before you did,” Maggie says, talking about her like she’s not on the same bed. “And I tried being nice to her at first, but you know how that goes.”
“I think the three of us just need to get drunk together,” I suggest. It worked for Bridgette and me. Maybe it could work for Bridgette and Maggie.
Maggie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That sounds like an absolute nightmare.”
Bridgette nods in agreement. “Alcohol can’t erase years of history between her and Warren.”
Maggie laughs, addressing Bridgette directly now. “Do you really think there’s a chance in Hell I would ever be romantically interested in Warren again? That’s absurd.”
Bridgette rolls onto her back and looks up at the ceiling. “I’m not worried about you falling for him. I’m worried about him falling for you. You’re really pretty, and Warren is shallow.”
Maggie and I both look at each other. Then we both start laughing. I shake my head, completely taken aback by Bridgette’s insecurity. “Do you not realize what a knockout you are? Warren could be as shallow as a desert and he’d still be head over heels for you.”
“I don’t really want to compliment you because you’re mean to me,” Maggie says to Bridgette. “But Sydney is right. Have you seen your ass? It looks like two Pringles hugging.”
What the hell does that even mean? Maggie’s comment makes Bridgette laugh, even though she tries to hide it.
“You work at Hooters, for Christ’s sake,” Maggie adds. “If I showed up at Hooters, they’d turn me away, thinking I was a twelve-year-old boy.”
Bridgette turns her head toward Maggie. “Go on…” she says, urging us to continue with the compliments.
I roll my eyes and stretch my legs out, kicking her playfully in the thigh. “Warren loves you. Get over your weird insecurities. You’re lucky you have a man who has a heart big enough to want to care for one of his best friends.”
Maggie nods. “It’s true. He’s a good guy. A really shallow, somewhat conceited, extremely perverted good guy.”
Bridgette groans and then sits up on the bed. She looks at me, and then she looks at Maggie. She doesn’t say it’s okay for Maggie to move into the same complex, but she also isn’t protesting anymore, so I’ll take this as a victory. She stands up and walks toward the door, but pauses in front of Maggie’s floor-length mirror. She turns around and looks at herself over her shoulder, cupping her butt with both hands. “You really think it looks like two Pringles hugging?”
Maggie reaches behind her and grabs a pillow, then throws it at Bridgette. Bridgette pats her own ass and then leaves the bedroom.
Maggie falls onto her bed and groans into her mattress, then sits back up and looks at me, her head tilted to the side. “Thank you. I’ve never known how to deal with her. She terrifies me.”
I nod. “Me, too.”
Bridgette and I may get along now, but I’m still scared to death of her wrath.
Maggie slides off the bed and walks back toward the living room. I follow her. Once we’re all seated back at the table, she pulls her notebook in front of her. I look at Ridge, and he smiles at me. “I love you,” he mouths.
He says it all the time to me, so I don’t know why it makes me blush this time.
“They have two available units,” Warren says, sliding his phone toward Maggie. “One up, one down. The one downstairs is at the other end of the complex, but I think you should be downstairs.”
Maggie looks at his phone. “It says it isn’t available until the 3rd. I can call in the morning and reserve it, then just get a hotel for a few days between apartments.”
“That’s just a waste of money,” Bridgette says. “It’s only a few days. Just stay in my old bedroom. Or Brennan’s. They’re both empty.” She’s filing her nails again, but the words that just came out of her mouth are monumental. It’s the closest she could come to an apology without actually saying to Maggie, “I was rude. I’m sorry.”
Ridge looks at me and squeezes my hand under the table, then texts me.
Ridge: I’ll stay at your place while she’s at ours, if it’s okay.
I nod. I would probably have made him, even if he hadn’t suggested it.
I don’t even know that I could disagree with her staying there for a few days at this point because everything going on with the people at this table has long since passed the definition of normal. Warren once said to me, “Welcome to the weirdest place you’ll ever live.”
I get it now. I don’t even live with them anymore, but that apartment and the rotating door attached to it defy every boundary ever put into place.
Warren scoots his chair back and stands up, then claims the empty chair next to Bridgette. He reaches over and grabs her nail file, then tosses it into the living room. He pulls her chair closer to his and he kisses her.
And Bridgette actually lets him for a good five seconds. It’s both adorable and highly uncomfortable.
Maggie rolls her eyes and then pushes her folder in front of Ridge. “I’ve made a list of compromises. There are things I still want to do that I’m going to need you to be okay with. And in return, I promise I’m going to take better care of myself. But you can’t be bossy with me until you’ve given me a little time to adjust. I’m a hot mess, and it’s going to take some time to improve that part of my personality.”
Ridge looks over the list for a moment, but looks up at her and signs something I don’t recognize. Maggie nods. “Yes. I’m going bungee jumping and you can’t tell me no. We’re compromising.”
Ridge sighs and then pushes the list back in front of Maggie. “Fine. But you’re joining a support group.”
Maggie laughs, but Ridge doesn’t.
“That’s not a compromise,” Maggie says. “That’s torture.”
Ridge shrugs. “We’re compromising,” he says. “If you hate it, you can stop. But I think it’ll be good for you. I don’t think
any of us truly knows what you’re going through, and I think it’ll be good for you to talk with people who do.”
Maggie groans and drops her head on the table, hitting it three times against the wood. She scoots back from her chair and looks at me. “You’re going with me,” she says, walking toward the kitchen.