Maggie, the owner of Peggy’s café in Riverton, California, is a chatterbox these days. She’s excited about the upcoming February 10th release of my Candy Heart Series title I’m Sure. She’s got a supporting role, as do two of her sandwiches, and she thinks—well, she can tell you herself…
Maggie rearranges her ash-blond-from a bottle locks to settle over her shoulders, framing the very ample chest she’s showcasing in a bustier-inspired top straight from the racks at Forever 21. Because that describes Maggie—who is on the high side of fifty—to a T; Forever 21. She finishes with an upward push on her hair near her crown, for height. Blinking her mascara-laden eyes, she blots her pink-frosted lips on a tissue. “Oh, am I on?”
Yes, Maggie, you are so on.
“Hi everybody. I’m Maggie. I run Peggy’s café, the best place to eat, not just in Riverton, but anywhere around here. You should see our menu, which is real cute.” Her long French manicured nails on display, she pulls a laminated card from one of her counter racks. “I’ve got one right here. I’ve named all the sandwiches, you know?” After a moment of indecision, she retrieves leopard reading glasses from under the counter, balances them on her nose, and starts reading. “Like The Sky is Falling—that’s a chicken sandwich with everything on it, and–” She jerks her head up.
I just reminded her what we are talking about today.
“Oh, yea, Megan Donovan. The water garden designer.” Maggie slips her glasses off and releases a loud exhale. “I gotta admit, that long hair of hers, that copper shade, is to die for.” She purses her shining lips. “But I really think that girl could use more make up. Where are her eyelashes? And every time she comes in for lunch with that friend who works with her, it’s like the girl’s been on year-long safari. Khakis, boots, mud spattered.” Maggie shakes her head. “Until the other day. You could have knocked me over with a feather when she walks through the door wearing a clean T-shirt–although it did need sparkles or somethin’–with this man.” Maggie’s eyes widen. “I’d never seen him before, but woo-wheeee. Tall. Cheekbones. A body that would take no prisoners. Calendar material.” Her eyelids dip lazily as her glossed-mouth widens into a cat-ingesting-cream smile. “What a woman wouldn’t want to do with that man.”
Did she just close her eyes? Her lunch rush could start any moment…
When Maggie’s lids pop back up, her gaze bright. “Jason.” She claps her beringed hands. “That was his name. Jason. He entered my candy heart contest for a free lunch…after I asked him, too, anyhow. I hope he wins, and brings Megan. I like her. She’s due for romance, if you ask me.” She snaps her gaze up, peering into the ceiling rafters of her café. “St. Valentine, you listenin’…?”