Read The Girl In The Glass for Free Online Page B

Prouts Neck.
    Guests who made the cut would be flown to the island on Daddy’s helicopter. The less favored would either sail their own boats or sail out with friends. The true commoners, the untouchables, would be relegated to the Casco Bay Lines ferry that had been chartered for the occasion. The only person Aimée could think of who wasn’t invited and wouldn’t come even if she had been was her own mother, Tracy Carlin, the first Mrs. Edward Whitby.

 
    Chapter 6
    M C C A B E L E A N E D IN closer to Maggie. “Why don’t we go over to your place,” he whispered even though Tallulah’s had pretty much emptied out.
    She shook her head. “A tempting offer, but no thank you.”
    It was after three in the afternoon. In the course of telling Maggie about the final breakup between Kyra and himself, McCabe had managed to polish off five Scotches. Actually, in most places, they would have added up to seven or eight, since Lou’s bartenders always poured McCabe a good three ounces per drink. As a result, while going over to Maggie’s seemed like a really good idea to him, it was a game she definitely wasn’t going to play.
    “Be more private than my place,” he said. “Casey’s probably home from school by now.”
    “I said no. I meant no. But thank you for the offer anyway.”
    McCabe peered at her with a self-­satisfied expression, like this conversation was a test in which he knew all the right answers. “Y’know, you once told me,” he said, “that the reason we couldn’t get together was because I was taken. Well, guess what?”
    “What.”
    “I’m not taken anymore.”
    “No, but you are drunk.”
    “Yeah. But . . .” McCabe grinned broadly. He knew the answer to that one as well. “But I’m not a drunk. You told me so yourself just a little while ago.” He looked at his watch. “Well, actually quite a while ago.”
    “Yes, I did, and I meant it. You’re not a drunk.”
    “Good.” McCabe turned away, looking for the waitress to order another round.
    Maggie reached across the table and took one of McCabe’s hands. “Look at me, McCabe, and stop searching for Max. You don’t need any more drinks.”
    McCabe frowned but did as she asked.
    “We once made love,” said Maggie, “at a time when I was in a bad place and really needed you. I’ve never been sorry about that. But before we go over to my place or anywhere else for whatever you have in mind, there are a lot of things I have to sort out in my own mind. And probably just as many you should be thinking about as well.”
    McCabe closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear the fog in his brain. When he felt about as articulate as he was going to get, he opened them. He looked into Maggie’s soft brown eyes, so different from Kyra’s blue ones. He spoke slowly, managing not to slur his words. “Mag, we care for each other. We always have. Call it love. Call it friendship. Call it whatever you want. But it’s a fact. We have something special. There have been a thousand times over the past six years when I’ve thought about us being together, and I don’t mean just for sex. I mean really being together. And I’m pretty sure you’ve thought about that too.”
    “You know I have. But it’s not going to happen. Not until I know the answers to a ­couple of things. For one, Kyra may have left you, but I have a feeling you may not be entirely done with her. Not emotionally anyway. I think if she changed her mind and said she wanted you back, you and I would be right back where we started. And as much as I care for you, I don’t want to be anybody’s rebound or second choice. Not even yours.”
    “Maggie, Kyra and I are history.”
    “I’m sure you believe that’s true. And maybe it is. But I’d rather wait till we both know it for sure.”
    “Okay. I understand. I’m not sure you’re right, but I understand.”
    “There are also a few other problems,” said Maggie.
    “Like what?”
    “Like the fact we