Page 124 of Love Spells: And Other Non-Refundable Magic

CHAPTER 33

FLORA

I’m the one who texts Maggie on Friday afternoon to ask if she wants to get brunch the next day, even though we already have plans for Sunday. It isn’t until she responds almost immediately that I realize how long it’s been since I was the one who asked to see her first.

Not that we haven’t seen each other. We have.

Things have been better between us for months now, slowly enough that I couldn’t point to the moment when seeing Maggie stopped feeling like something we were both carefully tending and started feeling like friendship again.

She texts me about work and sends me pictures of dogs she sees on the street. I complain to her about customers at The Spindle. And we make plans, and most of the time now, neither of us has to say that we’re glad we did.

Still, when I look back through our conversations while I’m waiting for her answer, I can see how often she’s the one who starts them.

That understanding is uncomfortable in a way I don’t entirely understand.

Then her response appears.

Maggie

Depends. Are you asking me on a date?

I smile.

Me

No

Maggie

Then unfortunately yes, I’m free

Me

Brunch?

There’s a longer pause before she answers this time.

Maggie

Look at you making plans.

I stare at the screen until it goes black, wondering if she means it the way I’ve taken it or if I’m finding significance in something that isn’t supposed to have any.

Probably the latter.

Me

Eleven?

She sends me the name of a place in Fremont and tells me she’ll meet me there.

The next morning, Maggie is already sitting outside on the covered patio when I get there, wearing sunglasses despite the heavy gray sky and drinking coffee from a mug large enough that she has to use both hands to lift it.

“You’re late,” she says as I approach.

I check the time automatically. “It’s ten fifty-eight.”

“I’ve been here for nine minutes.”