“Are you okay?” Mac asked, and his voice sounded like it was underwater. It burbled against her ears. “It’s one person’s opinion, Maggie. You sent this thing to several readers? I bet they’ll all have different thoughts.”
Maggie nodded. Her head felt weighed down, as if each thought were a lead ball rolling from the back of her brain to the front.
“I think you need to go home,” Mac said. His eyes looked too large in his face as he peered into hers. “Maggie?”
She nodded again, and her brain did the same rolling swoop as before. Mac’s voice sounded even further away.
“Sorry,” Maggie said because she was probably overreacting. She was probably being dramatic. This poor man had done something nice for her, and now she was ruining it by acting like a total fool.
Maggie forced herself to take a deep breath. She dragged air into her lungs, and it cut like swallowing a sharp piece of cereal the whole way down. A quick pause, then she forced another. She could feel the sharp edges of her panic as anxiety tried to sink its talons into her. She needed to ground herself. Maggie glanced around the employee break room, cataloging five things she could see. There was the frayed hole in the green paisley couch. The staff photo of her, Gary, and Shay all standing behind the register and grinning like loons. The spot on the floor where two black squares butted up against each other on the mislaid vinyl tiles. The hot pink swirl of her no-tie shoelaces. And the warm gold glint of the chain around Mac’s neck. She already felt a little better.
“Don’t apologize, dammit,” Mac said, his voice cracking. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back.”
Maggie felt the rough scrape of his fingers as he let go of her cheeks. The bumpy center of the button at the bottom of her cardigan. She slid her hands over the worn denim of her jeans. She twisted the cool silver ring on her thumb. Four things she could feel.
While she was busy collecting herself, Mac strode to the break room door and pulled it open. He ducked his head out but didn’t leave the room. Maggie heard the squeak of the metal hinges protesting the force Mac used to wrench it open. She heard a ping as his phone signaled something—a text or an email. She heard his rich voice as he called out to Shay that he was going to take her home. Three things she could hear.
Wait. What? He was taking her home?Her breathing didn’t hurt as much as before, but she had to finish. Getting through all five senses was necessary, or she could fall right back into her panic.
Gary had left a sweatshirt draped over the back of a chair in the break room. Maggie could smell the faint hint of the menthols he insisted he would quit. He was careful about smoking in and around the merchandise—fans could be feral—but the scent never quite left his outer layers. Mac stepped back in front of her, green sweater blocking her entire field of vision, but she wasn’t on sight anymore, she was on smell. She inhaled through her nose and caught a whiff of iron and coal mixed with pine. Mac smelled smoky, too, but infinitely better than Gary’s cigarette sweatshirt. Two things she could smell.
“Come on, Maggie,” Mac said, and his words no longer bounced out of her ears. “I’m going to drive you home. Shay has you covered.”
One more thing, something she could taste. Maggie licked her lips and tasted salt. A lone tear had tracked down her cheek to her mouth.
“Thank you, Mac.” She forced a smile, letting her dimples out. “I’m okay, but thank you.”
Mac scrubbed a hand down his face, his tan skin a nice contrast to his dark beard. He held out her phone, and she took it back, shoving it deep into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Okay,” Mac said, his frown back in place. “I want to be clear that I don’t really believe you, but I’m choosing to trust you, anyway.”
Maggie’s pulse tripped. She’d gotten good at pretending things were fine after an episode. She’d had to learn to fake it after a few too many breakdowns in public. In reality, they left her drained, exhausted. Her brain sluggish and her limbs heavy.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m okay. Sad, but okay. I’ll figure it out.”
Mac’s frown deepened, his brows almost touching. “I know we aren’t friends, but if there’s a way I can help—”
“We aren’t friends, Mac?” Maggie asked, pouting to annoy him further and because his words stung a bit. “I’m heartbroken.”
“You annoy me less than most, Maggie,” Mac’s lips tipped up into a tiny hint of a smile, “but let’s not push it.”
CHAPTER THREE
“Younevertoldmewhat your readers thought!” Audrey swirled her wine in her stemless glass, pinning Maggie with a knowing look over the rim.
It was tradition for Audrey and Maggie to finish each week with wine and cheese and Netflix. They’d started the practice in high school and hadn’t missed a week in seven years. This week they were sitting on Audrey’s couch, feet propped on the heavy wooden coffee table, eating from a labeled cheese board. A reality dating show where some guy’s mother made each pick played on the television. They were five episodes deep in this dating show, having binged it the week before at Maggie’s. When Maggie hosted girls’ night, they still put their feet up and ate in front of the television, but they typically ate pre-sliced cheese directly from the package. Audrey always picked the wine since if it were up to Maggie, they’d only drink moscato or piña coladas.
“It wasn’t great,” Maggie said. “They all said the same thing. My characters don’t have chemistry.”
“What twats.” Audrey took another sip of wine. “Your characters were so real. I’m pretty sure I’ve met your hero. Like in real life.”
You mean your brother?Maggie used both hands to shove that thought right out of her mind.
It had taken the last four days, but after her panic attack at the store and crying herself to sleep on the couch whilePride and Prejudiceplayed on repeat and rereading her current favorite book, she was ready to face the next step with her novel.
“The issue isn’t the characters themselves, it’s their relationship. It fell flat. The romance wasn’t believable because they didn’t seem drawn to each other or in love.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”