Sam usually walks me to my car every night, but I figured since we've been so busy and I slipped out early, I wouldn't deprive the bar of my trusted friend.

I round the corner of the bar and pass the vacant building next door, which just last month was an office for a photography company.  We've always called it the cursed building because no business ever lasts there. It's a beautiful facility with floor to vaulted ceiling glass windows and crystal chandeliers.  It's not like it's haunted, but I've never seen a company last longer than a year there.

After passing the cursed lot, I find the parking garage and take the elevator to the top floor. I walk all the way to the furthest corner of the lot, scolding myself for not getting here earlier. Although, with the snowbirds looming, I still might not have gotten great parking.

Just as I'm reaching my 2004 Sonata I hear clunky footsteps somewhere behind me. I turn quickly to see if I know the person but it's so dark I only see the shadow of a tall brawny man heading straight for me.

This is it. This is what I get for trying to walk alone to my car in the dark. My breathing has accelerated and my heart is pounding out of my chest. I've always thought that faced with a fight or flight situation my instinct would be to fight and I'm not going to prove myself wrong now.

I take a deep breath to steady my heart rate and shut my eyes tight. I concentrate on the sounds of my attackers footsteps permeating on the hard concrete. I clench my shaking hands into tight fists and wait until I hear the mans footsteps directly behind me.

I quickly turn and swing, my fist connecting with the man's jaw as I imagine myself punching through him, just like Sam taught me. My attacker's hands fling to his face to rub his jaw.

"Jesus Maggie!" Sam shouts. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Sam? Oh my god Sam, are you okay?" I worriedly ask him as he cradles his jaw in his hand. He holds the other palm flat, facing in my direction to keep me away.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a woman in the dark!" I yell defensively. It's not my fault Sams tall figure and muscular body make him look so threatening at night.

"Why didn't you wait for me to walk you out?" Sam asks with an angry edge to his voice.

"I figured it's a short walk and I'm perfectly capable of defending myself." I answer defensively.

"Clearly, that five finger death punch I showed you works wonders." He laughs through grit teeth.

"Look I'm sorry Sam, I was really scared." I lighten my tone and he gives me a weak smile.

"Just wait for me next time okay? If anything happened to you and I could have helped, I'd be devastated." He explains, now fully recovered from the hit.

"Okay fine. Did I hurt you?" I ask a little more sympathetic now.

"Nah, it was like a bee sting. Painful at first, but I'm okay now. Definitely a great distraction, but Maggie if that ever happens again, run after you punch them please. Just run and get to safety while they're disoriented."

"Got it." Another good pointer. Sam is always worried about my safety and I'm thankful for his tips.

"How is your hand?" He asks. I didn't think to even check it with the adrenaline pumping through me. I gaze down at my hand and see my knuckles already swollen.

Shit.

"Shit." He utters as he watches me examine it.

"Put some ice on that when you get home please." He says with a hint of worry.

I know Sam's concerned but I'm used to a bit of physical pain. In your teen years when you're running into door frames because you don't realize how fast you've grown, everyone tells you you'll grow out of your clumsiness. Well, that never happened for me. I might as well put an out of order sticker on my forehead and just call it a day.

I sigh and manually unlock the car door with my key because the locks no longer respond to my clicker.

"When are you going to get a new car?" He sighs with more concern.

"When this one stops running." I say half-joking.

It's getting old, it's definitely seen better days and okay, maybe it's a little unreliable but I still love it.  It's the first car I bought and paid off entirely on my own.

I say goodnight to Sam with a quick hug and another apology and I head home. The brief rush of adrenaline has worn off and now I'm exhausted and ready for this night to be over.

The drive from Scottsdale to Phoenix is long but I'm grateful because I do my best thinking while on the road. I'd live closer to Scottsdale if I had a choice but it's way out of my price range. Downtown Phoenix is also expensive but I'm able to split our apartment with Beth so it's more manageable.

Speaking of, Bethany is going to want the lowdown on tonight and I don't even know what happened myself. Jackson made me into some kind of wild woman and I completely lost control of my emotions.  I felt a sort of electricity run through my veins just from being in the same vicinity as him.

My mind begins to drift as I concentrate on the long stretch of highway in front of me.  I wonder if he also felt the oxygen sucked out of the room when I entered, making him gasp for air.  Did his heart pound so loud out of his chest that he wasn't able to hear his own thoughts? I doubt it. He seemed so composed, so steady and strong like a rock.  He's definitely not the type that a silly girl with wild fantasies could shake.

Now he's gone, maybe even for good. He crashed into my life like a tornado, quick to shake things up but passed by completely unfazed before I could even begin to pick up the pieces.

I suppose none of my pondering even matters since he was clearly with someone.  I wonder if when they're together, she feels the way I did.  If Jackson tenderly tucks her hair behind her ear does she feel her cheeks enflame and her heart quicken?

I decide I'm tired of thinking so I turn on the radio. Lucky for me, Beige by Yoke Lore is just beginning.  I turn the dial up so it's blasting, roll down the windows and let down my hair. I sincerely believe there's no mood a good book or a good song can't snap you out of.  As the wind whips through my hair, I place one hand out the window to catch the wind. I fly down the I10 and sing my lungs out the rest of the way home.

I had been home for an hour, showered and dressed into my favorite red plaid leggings and a black tank by the time Beth arrived. Darn, she's going to want answers and I was just about to pick out a good book to snuggle up with by the fire.  I figure she'll at least wait to start the questioning until she takes a shower, so I continue to take my time browsing through my large book collection.

I'm instantly proven wrong when she kicks her heels off and plops down on the couch diagonal of me.  She swings her legs over the armrest and flips her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder before facing me and saying, "Spill."

"Spill what?" I know what she wants but I'd rather let her anticipation build up a bit more.

"Well, about Charming of course!" She howls a laugh and I wince. I had totally forgotten she got a front-row seat to the show earlier. Which means she in fact heard everything, including my pet name for Jackson.

"Good nickname!" She praises. "Honestly though, he's more like a dark prince with the way his dark hair and bright eyes contrast, and oh god that scowl." She's way too excited.

"I was being sarcastic when I called him that obviously." I roll my eyes and shrug, "He was playing me hot and cold right in front of his girlfriend."

"That wasn't his girlfriend." Bethany states definitively.

What?

"What? How do you know that?" I gasp.

"Well, it's not like I just wasn't going to snoop around after retaking the table from you." She laughs, "As if I could just wait until coming home for the deets." She remarks as if it's obvious what she was up to.

"Bethany no, what did you do?" I gasp again.

"Well," She starts, "I didn't see much more of your brooding bad boy but I got to know Alex and Christian. Well, I guess technically I got to know Christian a bit more than Alex." Her cheeks start turning pink. "But that girl Julie is just some floozy that hangs around them. She switches men every week."

Then she leans towards me like she's spilling a big secret. "Apparently Julie keeps coming back to Charming even though he's really not interested."

"Oh," I'm not sure how I feel about the news. Certainly not excited to hear that he sleeps around with women like that, but then a little voice inside of me reminds me he's single and a few butterflies come loose in my belly.

"How do you know he's not interested in Julie?" I ask curiously.

She smiles, "That part I easily assessed on my own. He didn't even enjoy her company!  Oh and he called her by the wrong name a few times. It was so obvious he wasn't into her Maggie.  But-"  She pauses like she's debating on telling me something.

"But what?" I beg and she stays silent. "Come on, a minute ago I couldn't shut you up!"

Beth sighs out a nervous laugh, "Alright, alright. Christian did say that Jackson- Well, he isn't easy to tie down." Bethany says a little hesitantly.

"He goes through a lot of women, they practically throw themselves at him. Hell, I saw that first-hand tonight. Although after meeting you he seemed to politely decline most of them." She cringes a little as she recalls the nights events.

"Well, it's not like I'll be seeing him again anyway." I say with a hint of sadness.

"I think you'll be seeing a lot more of him actually." She perks up giving me the smile that means she's loving having the upper hand.

I still don't want to show any excitement about Charming but on the inside, I'm squirming. "Oh? What do you mean by that?"

Before I can say another word she's on her knees on the couch clapping. "They've purchased the building next to The Palace.  Christian owns Red-Wolf,  a publishing company and they were at our club celebrating!"

Before I can stop myself I'm on my feet, "A publishing company? They purchased the building next to us? Wait, that place is cursed!"

Beth laughs, "So you DO want to see Charming again! I knew it!" 

As I ponder her accusation I sit back on the couch and curl my legs into my arms. "Honestly, I'm not sure.  I mean even if I did, he really didn't seem all that interested and like you said he's clearly a player."

Beth has a goofy grin like she knows something I don't know. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see what happens, huh?  I don't think I've ever seen you with such raw emotion as tonight."

She smiles and sits on the couch next to me.  "I mean you're always so charismatic and you never let anyone get the best of you."

"Oh keep going please, this is good stuff." I remark sarcastically.

"Shh," She slaps my arm playfully so I let her finish. "You're also calm and calculated.  You always kind of go through life the same every day, like nothing really phases you or stirs true emotion."

I'm still mulling over her words when she continues, "For the thirty seconds you two interacted, I saw raw passion and sparks.  I'm telling you Maggie, I'm placing my bets in advance and this is really gonna be something for the books."

I roll my eyes at her but smile. "You're a hopeless romantic you know that?"

Her smile falters a little and I know we've turned to a more serious territory, which makes me more than a little uneasy. "I know you've never really been in love so, I guess- I guess what I want to say is you've been sleepwalking through life for so long and only living through your books.  I want you to start really living."

I know she's right but I'm so uncomfortable right now that I'd literally rather talk about anything else. It's time to lighten the mood.  "Thanks, mom.  Is there any other depressing topic you'd like to broach now?  I'd really like to get back to my life, but in order to do that I've got to pick out a book."

Beth picks up the closest book to her, which happens to be Maybe Someday by Colleen Hoover and smacks me on the arm with it. I'm lucky I bought the paperback copy. 

We say our goodnights with a hug and she heads to the shower.  Once again I'm left alone with my novels and I've decided tonight, I'm curling up with J. Porter's - Heart Full of Stars.

WHEN I WAKE UP, the sun is streaming through the curtains and I'm slightly disoriented until I realize where I am. I fell asleep on the couch again while reading. 

I glance at the clock and discover I have a few hours until I have to head into work. One of the waitresses had a wedding to go to so I'm covering the lunch shift. Usually, I'm off Sundays and after last night I could certainly use the extra sleep but I just haven't learned to say no to people. This is one of my flaws that Charming just happened to get right last night. 

I take my time curling my sun-kissed brunette hair in tight curls because I know by the time I arrive for my shift my hair will have fallen into soft waves. My hair seems to be just as stubborn as I am when it comes to allowing me to do anything with it. 

After spending so much time with my hair I'm out of time for makeup. I quickly darken my brows because they're just too light on their own and apply some mascara to contrast my light blue eyes.  If there's anything I never leave the house without, its mascara. I'm lucky I've got such full lashes because it takes me hours to apply one fake lash and it usually ends in me crying from jabbing my eyes multiple times. 

After quickly browsing my closet I decide on a black flowy knee-length skirt and heels. Sunday lunch hour isn't usually busy and I shouldn't have to worry too much about killing my feet. After a second glance in the mirror, I'm out the door. 

It's chilly but not cold. I take a moment to think about going back inside to grab a light sweater but decide against it. Phoenicians usually wear shorts and flip flops in December, I can tough out the walk to and from the car.

I delicately climb down the stairs hanging tightly on the railing to where I parked my Sonata in an attempt not to fall. I keep telling Beth that the next place we get has to be on the first floor. 

In the car ride to work, my mind wanders to Jackson. Will I see him again?  Maybe I'll just peek into their new office to see if he's there. Or maybe not.  What would I even say?  'Remember me? I'm your crazy waitress with the emotional control of a two year old.' Nope absolutely not, vetoing that idea.

When I walk past the newly purchased building I can't help but glance inside the window and I'm surprised to see people inside already setting up. I quickly turn my head and press on to avoid any awkward encounters.

When I arrive, I find I was right about it being a slow day. Usually on Sundays during the lunch hour, we'll only get a couple of people from nearby businesses coming in for a cocktail or a sandwich. Not many people want to spend their lunch break at an expensive club.

I'm greeted by the usual massive grin from Sam when I walk through the large entrance. Luckily my right hook hasn't left a mark on his pretty face. "Beautiful as ever Mags!" 

"Quit flattering me, you know it goes straight to my head." I laugh off his compliment.

"Your first table is already here in VIP." Sam says in a strange tone that I can't quite place.

"Okay, I'm on it." I say as I grab my pen and pad. I've never really needed to write down orders but I'd rather be over-prepared than under.

When I reach the top of the stairs I see Jackson sitting there alone. He's wearing the same outfit as yesterday and at first I wonder if he only owns one shirt, but then I wonder how it's possible that someone could be so effortlessly beautiful. God, he's even better looking in the daylight. 

Jack's surrounded by loose papers on the booth and scattered on the table in front of him.  He's leaning over the table with his face scrunched into a frown and he's chewing on a pen. The sight of his lips wrapped around the end of his pen sends a shiver through my body but I shake it off.

I take a split second to breathe, straighten my skirt, then confidently walk towards his booth.

"Charming." I say with a smile.  I've decided I like this new name for him.

He looks up at me with a dark smolder but allows himself a crooked smile when he sees it's me.

"Mags." His confident greeting sends a chill down my spine. I like hearing him call out my name in his angelic accent.  

"It's Maggie actually." I correct him.

"Well, it's Jackson then." He smirks.

"Mmm," I pretend to mull his words over then say, "Charming suits you better."

He lets out another melodic laugh and pats the seat in the booth next to him. I accept his invitation but I make the wise decision to sit on the booth across from him instead.  Being this close to him is difficult enough and I don't quite know what I would do if I was close enough to touch him.

He notices my resolve and raises one eyebrow. "You know I don't bite."

"Yes, but I might." I say before I can stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

Jesus Maggie, calm yourself.

The sexy smirk is back and although I originally wanted to take back my comment, I mentally pat myself on the back.

"What are you working on?" I ask and nervously bite my lip.

I could cut the sexual tension in here with a knife and I've got to change the subject before I climb over the table. What's gotten into me?  I'm no longer Margaret Carpenter, I'm Mags the Wild Woman and I kind of like it.

Jackson's eyes are on my lips and they linger there as he speaks. "Revising another draft of my book."

I gasp, "You're a writer?" I look down at the entire area littered with pages and it suddenly makes sense.

"Yep." He doesn't elaborate.

"Do you have anything published that I might have read?" I ask.

"Well that depends, do you read any romance novels?" He inquires proudly.

"Only every free second I get!" Oh god, that sounded so pathetic.

He lets out a laugh and I cover my face in embarrassment before he can see the red tinting my cheeks. I should excuse myself and beg someone else to take this table again although, I don't know if I could possibly make a bigger ass of myself.

"Hey, don't hide your face from me." In the short time I've covered my face he's suddenly next to me taking both of my wrists in his large hands.

The fire starts where his palms touch my wrists and shoots through my entire body until I'm sure he can feel the heat reflecting off of me. His expression is softer than I've seen before and he's so close that I can smell a hint of mint and cologne.  My calm demeanor is nowhere to be found and my heart is beating out of my chest so loud that I know he has to hear it.

What is happening to me?  Who is this guy?

Jackson takes a sharp breath and backs away slightly. A cool demeanor takes over and his face relaxes into a cocky smile. He leans back in the booth and his arm hangs loosely against the back, the way he was when I first saw him last night.

With the slight amount of distance between us, I'm able to breathe again. My mind clears of it's haze and the embarrassment once again begins to take hold. I stand abruptly, suddenly aware my legs feel like jello so I keep my hand on the back of his booth for balance. I avoid eye contact by staring at the table in front of us.  So many loose papers are strewn about that you no longer can see the dark grain in the wood. That's when I see it, J. Porter.

"You're J. Porter?" I gasp.

"You know my work?" He asks, not surprised at all.

"Yes of course! I've read all of your books!" I exclaim, "I reread Heart Full of Stars just last night and the way you describe love as oxygen for the soul leaves me breathless. You must have experienced love in a way I'll never know because you write about it so beautifully."  I'm babbling but I just can't seem to stop.

"It's a load of bullshit the lot of it." He states so casually with a roll of his eyes.