Page 31 of The Deal Maker

Maggie looks more relaxed in our beach photo, like she's not trying to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

After learning more about Maggie, some of our issues made more sense. But for some reason, I want to keep hanging outwith her. Maybe it's because I've never had anyone not like me on this level. I’ve been able to get along with just about anyone, floating among several groups in college.

Even my professor who didn't favor any students had cracked for me. Sure, my job isn't the best ever, but it's something that will help me achieve the life I want in the next couple of years.

I lock up the office and see Maggie in The Candy Jar. She's sweeping around the round tables that hold all the canisters of candy.

Opening the door, I say, "Do you need some help?"

Maggie jumps and says, "Uh, no, I think I'm good."

"How did the day go?" I ask, not wanting to walk too far into the store. We've got to work together for the next several days on this scavenger hunt and I don't want to do anything to disrupt whatever good mojo we produced today.

"It went. We got a bunch of people coming in to get the promo candy, but about the same amount of business. How about you?" I see the tightness of her lips as she asks the question.

"We were slow, too. Probably just because it's Monday." I'm not sure why I'm still standing here, like I'm waiting for her approval to move or something. "Okay, well, I'm going to head out. See you tomorrow?"

Maggie gives me a quick nod and says, "I'm hoping tomorrow is the taste test over at King's bakery or find an item."

I chuckle as I think about the dozens of pictures I scrolled through earlier. She must’ve done the same. "I should probably warn you that I'm the worst at finding things. Even if it's right under my nose."

Maggie shakes her head and says, "I'm sure you were a pain in your mother's side."

"Every day. It was like a life mission."

"You're the worst," Maggie says with a slight smile. "It sounds like your mother should be given sainthood status for having to raise you."

“Is that teasing I hear from Miss Maggie Dean?” I ask, grinning.

"Believe it or not, I did come with that capability installed at birth. I'm just good at hiding it sometimes."

"Touché. Okay, I'm out. See you tomorrow."

Once I'm outside the door, I turn to look back, wondering why I feel a pull to Maggie. I still think it's because I want people to like me, but it feels like more than that.

I walk over to my scooter, grateful for the vehicle that costs very little and still gets me all the places I need to be. Do I look ridiculous riding it? Probably, but I’ve never really cared about my appearance when things are practical. A dollar saved equals a flight to somewhere new.

Frowning, I'm not sure why I'm suddenly so worried about dating. That hasn't been something on my mind for quite a while. Probably because I haven't settled down enough to bring a woman into the crazy that is my life.

There are a lot of things that need to happen when we become adults, and while some make things look easy, like King in his new relationship with Georgie, I don't have things buttoned down like that. I mean, six weeks ago I was waiting tables at the main restaurant in town. Before that, I was the delivery driver and substitute front desk guy for some of the local hotels.

How long will I be setting up timeshare appointments? That's a great question, one I don't know the answer to. Hopefully it’s a long-term investment of time.

I think back to Maggie's face in the beach picture. She's conventionally attractive. I'm not sure she'd go for a guy whohasn't had his life planned out since birth. From how organized and on top of things she is, we'd be the exact opposite.

Not that I need to plan on dating Maggie Dean in the future. But what if she came to know me without the threat of the timeshare background? Would she look at me differently?

Do I want that? The small voice in my head says yes.

I walk into my apartment, which is one of the random buildings my parents own. It’s right next door to the family house too. I have to pay rent, but it’s nice to not have my parents constantly treating me like I’m a child still when I'm twenty-seven.

There's a note on the fridge in my mother's handwriting, telling me to come over to the house for dinner.

Blowing out a breath, I open the fridge. There isn't a whole lot in here. I had to put some money upfront to secure the lease for the building, and then Grandpa chipped in the rest. I just need to make it until payday so I can go get a big load of groceries.

I debate grabbing a package of crackers out of the cabinet and munching on those, but my stomach is growling, meaning I probably won't make it until the morning without real sustenance.

Should I feel bad that I go home regularly for meals? My mom has never adjusted to the fact that I no longer live at home. My sister lives on the west coast and my twin brothers are still in high school, meaning my mom still thinks she needs to cook for an army.

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