Home Free - Fern Michaels [20]
The waitress arrived to take their order. The moment she was gone, Maggie leaned over the table and said, “Yeah, well, I’m thinking of giving mine back.”
“You are! Why?” Nikki asked in stunned surprise.
“You can’t do that, Maggie. You’re one of us now,” Alexis said.
“I know, I know, but my . . . my life has changed. I don’t mean in regard to all of you. I mean my personal life. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Well, we’re all ears, honey. Spit it out,” Alexis said as she poured more coffee.
“You all know my history with Ted. And with Abner. Somehow, I managed to screw up both of those. I take that to mean neither of them was meant for me. I love them both in different ways. And, yes, it bothers me that it all ended like it did, but I have to think about me. I’m forty years old. I should have my personal life on an even keel, and I thought I did until . . . well, I had to rethink it all when Lizzie gave me that damn gold shield. She had this look in her eye, and I knew exactly what it meant. It meant my new beau is off-limits. I can’t sustain a relationship on lies, and I would have to lie to him. He was a congressman for ten years, and very astute in the bargain. Now he’s an investment counselor, which means he raises money and invests it.”
“I think we all know some stupid congressmen, ex and otherwise. I don’t personally know any investment counselors, at least not on a first-name basis. I do have a broker and a portfolio,” Nikki said. “It’s never good to start a relationship based on a lie. Having said that, it’s my personal opinion that one’s . . . partner, significant other, doesn’t need to know everything about oneself. I also think each of us has to hold something in reserve and never commit one hundred percent. If things go awry along the way, we each need that little bit of reserve to carry us through.”
“Men like a little mystery where women are concerned,” Alexis said. “But in a way that’s a double-edged sword, because they then try to find out what that little mystery is. Tough spot, Maggie. How do you feel about this new guy?”
“You know, I really like him. I met him at the Post one day. He was meeting with one of my reporters. No, not Ted. I gather he’s sort of the new wunderkind. At least that was the impression I got out of it. I was walking across the newsroom floor, and he just up and introduced himself. We had a pleasant chat, and that was it. No sparks or anything like that. Just one of those meetings that happen every so often. One of the reporters, I found out later, was doing an article on his overnight success. He’s very personable. A week or so later, he called me up and invited me out to dinner. I went. The conversation was mainly about how disillusioned he was with Washington during his five terms as a congressman. He wanted to know everything there was to know about how the paper runs. Then he popped in again on his lunch hour one day and asked for a tour. I obliged. He’s real easy to talk to, nice guy.
“Full head of hair, and he’s forty-eight, eight years older than I am. He’s originally from Maryland. He’s a lawyer and CPA. He was married, but his wife died ten years ago from breast cancer. No children. He just up and left Washington after the funeral. Then he moved to New York, went to work on Wall Street. He worked there a while, then decided to strike out on his own and moved back here to the District. He still sees his in-laws and seems to love them like his own family. And did I mention he has a really wicked sense of humor and a killer smile? No sex. We are miles away from going there. Right now, it’s simply a comfortable friendship. Will it go forward? I have nary a clue, but yes, I would