Page 53 of Rafe

Chapter Eleven

Maggie handed the customer’s credit card back to her with a smile. “Thanks so much for coming in,” she said, her voice cheerful and welcoming.

The woman returned the smile, her eyes glinting with enthusiasm. “You’ll see more of me, I’m sure. I love antiques.” With a gentle nod, she picked up her shopping bag and gracefully walked out, the bell above the door chiming softly as she left.

Maggie took a moment to glance around the quaint and now silent shop, its shelves adorned with treasures from bygone eras. The soft afternoon light filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow on the antiques that lined the back wall. Deciding to clean up before she closed for the day, she picked up a dust rag and headed to the backroom where the dollhouses were. The tourist season had officially drawn to a close, leaving the streets eerily quiet. It was the last Saturday they’d be open until spring returned. Maggie relished the thought, for it meant uninterrupted weekends with Rafe.

They did manage to catch up once in a while, but she rarely left the shop before two on Saturdays, and some days, fatigue took over, leaving her with little energy for anything else. But tonight, she and Rafe had plans. The dream of closing up on Fridays and heading straight to his place for a leisurely weekend filled her thoughts as she gently dusted a miniature mansion.

Earlier that afternoon, Vanna had gotten sick and went home, leaving Maggie alone to walk to her apartment.

“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” Vanna’s voice crackled weakly. “I know there’s a bug going around and it looks like it found me.”

“It’s not your fault you’re sick, Vanna. I’ll be fine.”

“Call the sheriff’s office,” Vanna insisted. “They can send someone to walk you to your apartment.”

“I might do that. Promise me you’ll rest,” Maggie said softly. “You take care of yourself.”

“I will, just be damn careful, okay?”

“I will, I promise.”

Just then, the familiar chime of the door interrupted her musings. She sighed softly, setting the dust rag aside. “So much for getting a little cleaning done,” she murmured to herself as she walked toward the showroom. Upon entering, she stopped abruptly, her heart skipping a beat.Frederick!

“Get out of here,” she commanded, her voice firm and unyielding.

He shrugged nonchalantly, his eyes roaming over the carefully curated displays. “I’m just looking,” he replied, his fingers grazing objects as he wandered aimlessly.

“Yeah, well, I can refuse service to anyone, and I’m refusing you,” she declared, her tone unwavering. “Now get out before I call the sheriff.”

“I’m not doing anything, Maggie. I’m just admiring the antiques,” Frederick said, his eyes scanning the room with a feigned innocence.

“You’re here to try to intimidate me, and it’s not working,” Maggie snapped back, her voice edged with defiance.

Frederick sauntered toward her, his footsteps deliberate and heavy on the wooden floor, forcing her to retreat. A sly smirk curled his lips. “Are you sure about that?”

Maggie lifted her chin defiantly, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, now get out.” She moved swiftly behind the counter, pulling her phone from her pocket with a determined grip. “I will call them right now.”

“I’m surprised you’re not calling Marshall,” Frederick taunted, leaning casually against the counter’s edge.

“Why would I call him?” Maggie retorted; her voice steady but laced with tension.

Frederick leaned closer, his eyes glinting with accusation. “Because you’re fucking him. I knew you two always had something going on.”

“You’re wrong!” Maggie protested, her voice rising with a mix of anger and disbelief.

“About which part?” Frederick challenged, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fucking him now, or always having something going on? Were you having sex with him when we were married?”

“Are you crazy?” Maggie shot back, her voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion. “I know what kind of man you are, and I know what you would have done to me if I had been seeing Rafe.”

“I don’t believe you.” Frederick’s voice escalated, echoing off the walls. “I’d see the way you two looked at each other. I knew he wanted you!” he shouted; his face flushed with anger.

Maggie clenched her teeth. “Get out of here! Now!” She held her phone up, the threat of calling the sheriff clear in her eyes.

“I’ll go for now,” Frederick conceded, his voice a low growl, “but I’ll be around. I’m not happy with you at all, Maggie.”

“Well, now you know how I felt being married to you. Go!” Maggie’s voice was firm, her resolve unshakeable as she watched him turn and leave, the tension lingering in the air.

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