Page 2 of Protecting Maggie
“Are you having a good day?” Maggie asked as she pulled out of the parking lot.
“I am. I spent the morning with one of my good friends and got a lot of work done. She brought me home, but then I started thinking about how I wanted to surprise my boyfriend with a chocolate cake.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Maggie said. And it was. She’d never had anyone surprise her with anything before. Well…not anicesurprise. She refused to think aboutthatday, about what a surprise it was when the cops who’d pulled her over on the interstate had pulled that bag out from under her passenger seat.
“I’m not much of a cook,ora baker, but my boyfriend works really hard. He and all his friends do. He’s a SEAL. And yes, I’m allowed to tell you that.” Remi giggled.
Maggie found herself smiling. It was hard not to around someone like the woman currently in her backseat. She exuded friendliness and happiness. It was a nice change from what she usually dealt with.
“Anyway, he’s been working really hard lately, and I wanted to do something nice for him. And if I called any ofhis friends to give me a ride to the store, they’d probably text him and let him know, then the surprise would be ruined.”
Maggie wrinkled her nose a little at that. It seemed a little…stalkerish…for a friend to immediately go and tell the boyfriend what his girlfriend was doing and where she was going. She must not have hidden her reaction very well, because Remi chuckled.
“I know, that seems weird. But trust me, with the things my friends and I have been through, not to mention the stuff my boyfriend sees in his line of work, it’s perfectly normal. He’s protective.”
“Must be nice,” Maggie blurted, then immediately regretted it. Her voice sounded a little too…wistful for her peace of mind. She didn’t regret not having a man in her life. She’d had enough of guys. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, thank you very much.
Her stomach chose that moment to growl, as if publicly calling her out on that particular lie. It wasn’t as if she was doing a very good job of taking care of herself at the moment. But she’d manage. As soon as she was allowed, she was getting out of this state, moving somewhere that had a lower cost of living, and she’d figure out how to get back on her feet.
“It is,” Remi said nonchalantly, politely ignoring the way Maggie’s stomach had rumbled so loudly. “Anyway, he’ll bluster and ask what the hell I was thinking, taking an Uber to and from the store, but then I’ll present him with the cake I made and all will be well.”
Maggie grinned. “That’ll actually work?” she asked.
Remi giggled. “Okay, probably not. But when all I’m wearing is one of his button-down shirts—and nothing else—I’ll definitely be forgiven.”
Maggie couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter at that.
“But seriously,” Remi said, still sounding chipper and happy. “I declined two rides before yours because they were from men. I know that sounds sexist, but I prefer women drivers. I know that women can be just as horrible as men, but I do what I can to stay safe by taking pictures of the licenses and using the new safety features in the ride-share app.”
“Smart,” Maggie said, meaning it.
“One of my friends was kidnapped by two women she knew, and they tried to sell her into sexual slavery. So Iknowwomen can be horrible. But I still feel safer in a car with someone of my own gender.”
Maggie gasped. Remi had dropped that bomb so nonchalantly. “Is she okay? Your friend?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Oh, yeah. Josie’s great. She’s amazing. A four-foot-nine dynamo. She’s adorable and you can’t help but want to stick her in your pocket and take her home, but she’s tough as nails. I love her so much. She’s who I was visiting this morning. She can type like the wind too. I mean, seriously, I’ve never seen anyone type as fast as she can. She’s made a career out of it. I love going over to her place and sitting at her table to draw while she types. I don’t know, somehow the vibe she sends out makes me feel more creative.”
The woman switched topics faster than Maggie could keep up. “You draw?” she asked.
“Yeah. I have a cartoon. It does pretty well. It’s dorky as hell, but people seem to like it.”
“Cartoon?”
“Uh-huh. Pecky the Traveling Taco.”
Maggie’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God, seriously? You draw that? I love Pecky!” Looking in the rearview mirror, Maggie saw Remi blush. It was unexpected. This woman was extremely talented. And she was inhercar! It felt surreal.
“Thanks.”
“Wow. I’ve never driven a famous person around before,” Maggie said, only slightly teasing.
“Oh please,” Remi told her. “I’m not famous.”
Maggie begged to differ. She wanted to tell her that all the women she’d been incarcerated with loved her cartoon strip. Practically the only time everyone got along was when they were laughing about Pecky’s latest shenanigans. That taco had been a bright spot in what had been an otherwise pretty miserable two years.
“You make a difference,” she said in a serious tone. “I mean it. You might think what you do is just a hobby or for fun. But it means something to a lot of people.”
Remi didn’t blow off her words. Instead, she leaned forward in her seat and said, “Thank you. That means the world to me.”
