Chapter Four

Maggie felt sick to her stomach as she busied herself wiping down all the tables in the little café. She scrubbed at the plastic tablecloths until they were all shiny then took a jug of water to top off the small bunch of wild flowers that she’d placed in the middle of each one.

Aiden was still sitting at the counter when she’d finished, so she decided to wash the windows next—anything to avoid having to speak to him. With any luck, he would take the hint and leave.

Her throat was sore where she had been crying most of the night, and she knew she didn’t look her best. Bags had appeared under her eyes, and her skin looked sallow with tiredness. She’d hardly slept a wink, which she knew was ludicrous. They had only gone out together once, but it had been a perfect evening, until the end. She hadn’t realized just how much she liked him until she’d thrown him out of her home. He’d seemed really genuine and hadn’t even looked shocked when he’d seen the state of her apartment. But when she thought about it, everything added up. He’d taken pity on her and given her big tips every day that he’d been in here, his subtle way of giving her money. He’d flirted with her, made her believe he was interested in her before asking her out. Clever. Then he’d purposely taken her to a swanky restaurant after telling her that they’d just be going for a drink, maybe a bar meal. He was clearly trying to make her feel uncomfortable and out of her depth. Well, he could damn well think again if he thought she was about to make a fool of herself. She smirked as she recalled their conversation about the wine, then remembered how he had assumed afterward that it had all come from a book. That guy knows nothing.

“Could I get another coffee in here?” Aiden asked when she went behind the counter to fetch a bucket of clean water for the windows.

His big blue eyes looked watery and sad, and he sure wasn’t smiling now.

“Sure.” She took the pot over and refilled his cup.

He put his large, warm hand over hers as she went to move away, and she turned back in surprise.

“Maggie, I’m so sorry about last night.” His voice was low and gentle.

She shook her head. “Don’t sweat it. I’m really not that bothered.”

The hurt in his eyes was palpable, and she felt like a prize bitch, but there was no way she was going to let him know how much he had crushed her. She’d stupidly thought there was something between them, but all along he’d been making fun of her, showing her up for the pauper she was. Well, a fat lot he knows.

“Please, Maggie. Let me explain.” He held her hand tightly as she went to pull away, and she quickly looked around to see if any of the other customers were watching. They weren’t.

“There’s nothing to explain, Aiden. I’ve got your measure.” Her teeth were gritted again as she fought back the tears that threatened her eyes. Her throat felt heavy, and the large lump that had formed there last night seemed to be settled in for the week.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he told her firmly.

“Then, why did you?” She glared at him, finding it easier to show her anger than her hurt.

“I was joking. That’s all. I know you know your stuff. Hell, that’s one of the things I love about you. You were such fun to be with last night, and I wanted to see you again. I want to see you again.” He’d corrected himself before she’d even taken in his words. She was still hung up on the ‘that’s one of the things I love about you’ line.

His eyes were pleading with her to believe him, and she sighed as she watched a couple leave the café.

“You think you’re better than me, don’t you?” she snapped.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“You thought I’d be embarrassed in that restaurant, that I’d make a fool of myself. You were hoping I would be out of my depth, use the wrong knife and fork or something. You were shocked as hell that I knew about the damn wine. I’ll bet that ruined your night. “

“You’re wrong.” He shook his head again.

“And you insisted on paying the bill because you thought I wouldn’t be able to afford it, didn’t you? You even took me home just so you could turn your nose up at my apartment. Well, Mr. Smart-Ass, you’ve had your fun. But you know what? I don’t care. I’ve got more class in my little finger than you’ll ever have, so don’t you think you’re better than me ’cause you’re damn well not.” She spat the words out at him, narrowing her eyes as she tried to stop the tears from falling from them.

She failed. Quickly turning away so he couldn’t see her cry, she yanked her hand from his grip and fled into the little kitchen. It afforded her no privacy as it was surrounded by glass, enabling her to cook and watch the café at the same time, but she slammed the door and leaned back on it just the same.

She took a tissue from her apron pocket and quickly blew her nose before wiping her face. Aware that she was being watched, she went over to the sink and washed her hands, carefully dried them on a small towel, then looked through the window into the café. She was surprised to see that the last of the customers had gone, leaving their money on the table, and Aiden was the only person in there now, still perched at the counter.

She seethed. Had their scene just turned away her customers? If so, Mr. Burton had better not hear about it, or she would definitely be out of a job. She opened the door and walked toward the counter where Aiden was sipping his coffee.

“If I lose my job I’ll know who to thank,” she told him vehemently.

He smacked his lips together noisily. “If you lose your job, I’m sure you’ll find a better one. Lord knows, you’re qualified enough.”

It wasn’t the answer she was expecting, and it floored her somewhat.

He raised his eyebrows at her lack of response. “Well, you are a lot more than just a waitress and cook in a small café, aren’t you?” He went on. “Anyone with half an eye can see you don’t belong here. You’re a lot better than all this.” He waved a hand, gesturing their surroundings.

She felt more than a little taken aback. He was right. She was much more than just a waitress in a crummy café.

“How… How do you know?” Her voice was much quieter than she’d intended, but she was still trying to squeeze it out past that massive lump in her throat.

“It’s obvious, Maggie.” He shook his head with a smile. “You’re right about having class. That’s exactly what you’ve got—and, yeah, a darn sight more than I‘ll ever have.”

“I didn’t mean…” She suddenly felt embarrassed for her tirade. He was a Fielding, after all.

“No, I mean it. Class is something you can’t learn. You’ve either got it or you haven’t, and you’ve got it by the bucketful.” He smiled at her. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for the way things ended last night, darlin’. I had such a great time with you. I didn’t want it to end at all, let alone like that. I-I’m an idiot. I know that.”

Her heart melted as he spoke, and she took a step closer to him.

“No, I’m sorry. I should have realized you were only joking. I overreacted. I’m afraid I’ve got a tendency to do that. I’m a bit too sensitive for my own good.” The lump in her throat begin to thaw as the knot in her stomach slowly unfurled.

Suddenly Aiden was around the back of the counter, taking her in his warm arms, and his lips encased hers in the hottest kiss she’d ever had. His cologne enveloped her in a haze of happiness, and her whole body began to relax for the first time in years. Her pussy ached when his hard erection dug into her, and their kiss intensified. She ran her hands through his soft fair hair as she lost herself in the depths of his big blue eyes.

They both jerked apart when someone came in the door, and she stood blushing as Aiden grinned then made his way back around the counter.

“All right, darlin’?” He winked at her and he took his hat.

She nodded, a big smile spread across her face.

“Good. Don’t forget to put those in water, now, will ya?” He indicated the large bouquet of beautiful flowers he had placed on the counter.

“Thank you.” She lifted them up. The sweet scent surrounded her.

He nodded and headed for the door just as the other couple took their seats by the window. The smirks on the customers’ faces told her they’d seen the kiss, but Maggie didn’t mind. She was proud that such a handsome guy had wanted to kiss her. And it looked as though he wanted to see her again.

She popped into the kitchen and filled a large jug with cold water before placing the flowers in. She placed them on the counter where they looked lovely. Now she could stand and admire them all day, remembering the gorgeous cowboy who had given them to her.

* * * *

It was a quiet day in the small café, and Maggie spent most of it cleaning. She was aware that most of the jobs didn’t really need doing, but she was eager to pass the time in the best way she could.

As she swept under one of the window tables, she noticed a newspaper that had been left on the sill by one of the customers. The daily paper was a luxury she couldn’t afford right now, so she was pleased to see that it was current, and she put it aside until she stopped for a coffee break.

A few minutes later, she came to a stopping point. She stretched as she hopped onto one of the stools at the counter and poured herself a warm drink. There had been no customers for over an hour, and she was sure the place would have to close down soon. Perhaps I could find another job in here? She spread the paper over the counter and started to read about the shenanigans and events of the local community.

An article caught her eye, and she felt herself go stone cold. Oh no! There was a photograph of a happy couple and a lengthy article about the man’s success. It appeared that a certain Robert Rossington had recently become engaged to a local lady, Lorraine Parry, and was planning some big changes for his fiancée’s large estate.

Maggie shook her head as the article waxed lyrical about the wealthy businessman and his benevolent nature, painting him as some kind of hero who deserved to be worshiped for his many charitable endeavors.

But he wasn’t a hero. He was a bully—and a thief. Maggie knew it, although she could never prove it. She closed her eyes as his voice invaded her thoughts, informing her that one of his contacts had discovered that the manager of her bank was about to be investigated for fraud.

They had been living in a large house in the country, which, although it was mortgaged to the hilt, served as a status symbol for Robert and a millstone for Maggie. He employed a housekeeper to enable her to spend more time writing, following the success of her first book, A Modern Guide to Social Etiquette. It appeared that many of the landed gentry had worked their way into their wealth and had little idea of what was expected of them in the social circles of the upper echelons. Those born into money had such niceties bred into them as part of their education, but the ‘new rich’ were at a loss.

Her book had soared, having already provided her with a large advance and nice royalties, which had led to her being invited to give talks on the subject at many of the ladies’ groups and society meetings in and around the local area. Maggie had become something of a celebrity and had even appeared on a daytime television program, which again saw a massive rise in sales of her book and in her presentations. Discretion was one of the most important parts of her new career, and she was often asked to help the nouveau riche on a one-to-one basis, hiding their embarrassment and ignorance, while netting her a small fortune.

Her fiancé of eighteen months suddenly had become famous by association, and he’d used his new position to his advantage—borrowing money and influencing decisions purely based on his name, or, rather, hers.

He’d begun mixing with people whom Maggie would rather he avoid, and he’d soon fallen into a gambling habit that he could never break in a month of Sundays. Of course, she had been unaware of the severity of his problem until it was far too late.

On his insistence, she’d withdrawn all her money from the bank, fearful of losing it to a potentially fraudulent manager, and she’d hidden it all in the safe in Robert’s study. It hadn’t been there more than a couple of days when she’d arrived home from a book-signing event to be told that they had been burgled and every cent was gone. The sheriff had been less than helpful, and she’d known she would never see her money again. The evasive attitude of the so-called investigating officers had roused her suspicions about the whole situation, but it hadn’t been until Robert’s activities had come to light that she’d finally realized the truth.

Having run up horrendous debts, her fiancé had taken to gambling his way out of trouble. It might have worked had he been a more skillful poker player, but he had lost everything they owned—and a lot more besides. To dull the pain of his loss, he would drink himself into a stupor, aided and abetted by his new ‘friends’ who, of course, had been only too happy to join him in running up his tab at the local bar.

Maggie’s promotional work and seminars had used up most of her time, and she had been unable to pen another book, although it had always been her intention. Oblivious to the problems at home, she had begun to donate a large portion of her earnings to local charities—a gesture for which Robert had taken all the credit, unbeknown to her at the time.

Her efforts to discuss financial matters with him seemed to increase his fury, and one night he rewarded her tenacity with a black eye. It wasn’t just her fiancé that had hit her that night. The truth had, too.