The Only Man for Maggie

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The Only Man for Maggie Page 15

by Leigh Michaels


  Brenda tapped on the bedroom door, and Maggie called, "Come in, I just have to brush my hair and put my jacket on." She wrinkled her nose as Brenda appeared. "Don't I look simply elegant in a dressy suit and one rubber-soled shoe?"

  "At least you're safer that way. Karr called to say he's on his way over."

  Maggie's hands stilled on the hairbrush. But there was no point in letting anyone-especially Karr's mother—guess how much she wanted to see him, so she kept her voice level. "Bad timing that he's coming just as we're leaving, isn't it?"

  "Oh, he's going to take you downtown. He phoned a while ago to say he had business in the Loop." Brenda smiled a little. "Or at least he said he did. Isn't he a dear? He knows how much I hate driving into the city, so he's found an excuse in order to save me the trip."

  Of course, Maggie thought, and told herself to cut out the wishful thinking before it got her into big trouble. For a minute there Brenda had made it sound like Karr actually wanted to see Maggie. But the idea of saving his mother the drive—yes, that sounded much more likely than any desire to do Maggie a favor.

  It's only a ride, Maggie reminded herself. Certainly Karr wouldn't think it anything special—and if she was wise, she'd pretend it was simply one of the neighbors who were giving her a lift. She finished brushing her hair and slid into the hunter green jacket that matched her eyes.

  Karr was waiting in the hall. He stopped petting Tripp, took Maggie's briefcase from his mother, and studied Maggie from head to foot. "Nice change," he said.

  It was only a casual compliment, but it still brought a glow to her heart that was difficult to damp down. So she clowned a little, trying to hide her reaction. "I must say it's a challenge difficult to accessorize a full-leg cast." She mimicked the elegant turn of a fashion model on the runway, but the pirouette went awry, and she almost went sprawling.

  Karr stepped forward to seize her arm, and Maggie gasped as a jolt of pure energy surged through her.

  "You can trust me," Karr said. His voice was huskier than ever. "I won't let you fall."

  But it wasn't a physical tumble that scared her. And of course Karr had no idea she was thinking of a far more dangerous kind of plunge.

  Maggie's heart still hadn't settled back to its normal rhythm when the Mercedes reached the expressway and steadily and almost silently began eating up the miles to the center of the city. But then when had she ever had a normal pulse when Karr was around?

  From that first encounter outside Eagle's Landing, when he'd looked her over like a piece of real estate he wouldn't mind bidding on, her body had reacted automatically any time he'd been within range. How silly of her to have believed for so long that it was only irritation she felt when he was near!

  "You're awfully quiet today," Karr said.

  Maggie scrambled for an answer before he could start speculating on why she'd gone silent. "I'm just not looking forward to this meeting. After four years in the magazine business, I ought to be used to the committee approach, I suppose, but since I'm working alone to produce this section, all the meetings seem like a waste of time. And with the deadline coming up fast—"

  "I thought it was flexible."

  Maggie frowned. "Where did you get that idea? Magazine deadlines are the least flexible in the business."

  "From you. You told me the longer I annoyed you, the longer your project would take."

  "Oh." She'd forgotten making that particular threat, and she was caught flat-footed. "Well—"

  Karr was grinning. "So I've caught you fudging the facts, dear?"

  She gathered the shreds of her dignity and decided to ignore her slip-up. "I expect the meeting will take a couple of hours. But I can always put in half a day just going through my mail, so don't worry if your business takes longer than that."

  "I doubt it will."

  He didn't volunteer any details, Maggie noticed. "Then I hope I don't keep you waiting."

  "Don't hurry. After I've taken care of my errands, I've got the rest of the afternoon and evening free."

  Would you like to spend it with me? The thought came so automatically that Maggie had bitten her tongue before she realized she hadn't said it aloud after all. Good thing, too; he was perfectly capable of issuing invitations himself—if he was so inclined.

  "It's thoughtful of you to bother with me to save your mother the trouble." There; she'd at least let him know she didn't think it was her personal attractions which had made him offer to help.

  "Oh, believe me," Karr said cheerfully, "compared to some of the things I've done for you, this is no bother at all. The magazine's office is in the Metro Tower, isn't it?"

  A few minutes later he turned the Mercedes into the tiny courtyard half-hidden beneath the steel and glass Metro Tower on North Michigan Avenue.

  "It's not necessary to go all the way in," Maggie said. "I'll hop out right here, and when you come back, just ask the parking valet to call me and I'll come straight down. Thanks for the—"

  The Mercedes pulled up beside the valet stand. "And just how do you plan to get your briefcase upstairs?" Karr asked mildly.

  "Sling it over my shoulder, the way I always have."

  He looked at her quizzically. "I'd be worried the rest of the day that you'd toppled over in the elevator, dropped the briefcase, and killed someone."

  He got out before she could answer, leaving the door open for the valet, and came around the car to help Maggie.

  The moment she stepped into the magazine's headquarters, her co-workers came rushing to exclaim and sympathize. And to admire Karr, Maggie realized, noticing how many of the women who surrounded her were keeping one eye on him. Most of them were reasonably discreet in their appraisal; Carol, on the other hand, stared straight at Karr and said, "Maggie, who's the dishy guy?"

  When Maggie gave his name, Carol's eyes narrowed slightly. "Oh, now I get it. No wonder Maggie doesn't want to move—you're Elliot the Gr—"

  Maggie cut in neatly. "If you ever want to see that recommendation, Carol…"

  Carol blinked, and said weakly, "Elliot the landlord. That's right—that's what I meant."

  Karr smiled a little and said he'd come back in a couple of hours. True to his word, he was waiting when the meeting broke up. In fact, he was occupying Maggie's chair, his feet propped on the corner of her desk, drinking coffee.

  "No wonder you like working at home," he said, standing up as she came in. "This place is busier than a construction zone."

  "That's why I liked Eagle's Landing," Maggie pointed out. "Not just anywhere will do. Your mother's house is wonderful—set so far back from the other houses and with only the park across the street."

  "I might be able to find you something in the neighborhood."

  It was only a casual offer, Maggie knew, and she responded the same way. "Thanks, but I don't think I could mortgage my honor for the kind of money that would cost. And it's dead sure that nothing else I own is worth that much. I'm ready to go if you are, Karr, but my briefcase is still in the meeting room."

  Somehow he'd talked the valet into leaving the Mercedes right by the entrance of the parking garage, so they didn't have to stand and wait for it to be brought around. Maggie sank into the deep leather seat with a sigh, and Karr brushed a hand over her hair and smiled at her. "Crutches aren't much fun, are they? We'd better get you home so you can rest."

  "I didn't realize how much effort it takes just to be up and around. Karr, it was really lovely of you to go out of your way to take care of me."

  He reached across to her and cupped her chin in his palm, turning her face so he could study her. "Hey, you're different today."

  "Am I?" Maggie tried to keep her voice casual.

  "Yes. You're softer somehow." His hand came up to cup her cheek, and his mouth brushed hers. "Trust me, Maggie," he whispered. "Tell me whatever it is that's bothering you so."

  He sounded as if he really cared, and for a moment Maggie trembled on the edge of a chasm, trying to decide whether to leap into the unk
nown to see what was waiting for her, or draw back to something that looked like safety. She could seize the moment, show her feelings, and risk a hurt that would last a lifetime. Or she could take the path of least resistance, continue to treat him with the hands-off attitude she'd developed in the last few days—and never know whether they could have had something more.

  A horn blared, and slowly he released her. "Guess we'd better move out of the way." He put the Mercedes into gear.

  Trust me, Maggie…

  She realized abruptly that somewhere along the line she had let go of the last of her resentment over Eagle's Landing. Certainly she still regretted the loss; that fact would never change. But Karr had made a simple business decision in buying the property, tearing down the house, rebuilding. Even if Maggie couldn't entirely agree with his choices, she couldn't fault him for making them; property development was the way he made his living, after all. And if Karr hadn't seized the opportunity, chances were good someone else soon would have. Libby and Dan were right about that; Eagle's Landing was ripe for development.

  Trust me, Maggie. Tell me whatever it is that's bothering you so.

  Could she trust him? Could she tell him about her debt and her foolishness… and about Darien Parker?

  Karr seemed different today, too. There was no audience now to be impressed by how tenderly he'd cared for her. And if there was ever to be any hope of something between them…

  The Mercedes stopped at a traffic light, and suddenly Maggie was looking straight into his eyes—deep blue and questioning. Her world hung in the balance for a moment, then settled into a slightly different orbit.

  "Let's go home and call in an order for Chinese," she said. "Brenda's got a club meeting tonight, and we could build a fire… and really talk."

  "I'd like that," he said quietly. "My treat."

  The decision was made, and she wouldn't back out—but that didn't erase the disquieting sensation that she might have done the wrong thing. Maggie found herself almost chattering, filling time as they crossed the city.

  She was talking about Brenda's house as they came into Eagleton. "You know, I'm surprised you don't appreciate old buildings more. Growing up in that house must have been an education in architectural appreciation—it's a wonderful example of how an old house can grow in beauty and value over the years."

  "I didn't grow up there."

  "Didn't you? I just assumed… Well, maybe that explains it." The Mercedes flashed past the turnoff that led to Eagle's Landing, and she said hastily, "Karr, I just remembered—there's another book I need so I can finish the last article for the issue. Can we stop at Eagle's Landing and get it? I know it's a bother, but if you'd run up and get it for me…"

  He didn't slow down, and the atmosphere in the car seemed to harden. "Sorry." His voice was clipped and curt.

  Maggie felt as if she'd hit a concrete wall. "But why not? It'll only take a couple of minutes, and you said you had all evening free—"

  "Can't you borrow it from the library?"

  "I doubt I could get it in time. I can tell you exactly which shelf it's on, Karr. It's no big deal."

  Karr sighed. "Yes, it is. With the best will in the world, I can't get your book, Maggie, because it's not on that shelf any more."

  Her voice was low, level, and dangerous. "Where is it?"

  He took a deep breath. "In storage. Everything's packed up in crates, in the moving company's warehouse, till you decide where you're going. Finding any one item would be next to impossible."

  "You shipped everything off without even asking me?" She was almost shrieking.

  "You aren't going to need your pots and pans and chairs for a month or so."

  "That is entirely beside the point!"

  "As for the other stuff, you had your chance to get anything you needed."

  "Oh, right." Maggie's voice oozed sarcasm. "Even though you didn't think to mention what you were up to—"

  "All you had to do was tell Libby."

  "I had no idea it was a last-chance situation! You said you'd wait."

  "What?" Karr sounded honestly puzzled. "I said what?"

  "You said if I hadn't come back from my trip before the deadline, you'd have waited before you did anything."

  "I may have said that, when we were still talking about an able-bodied tenant who somehow managed to miss the legal notice. But it made no sense to leave your things there once you were physically out of the apartment. You knew I was going to tear the place down—"

  "You said you were going to salvage all the treasures. What's the big deal about leaving the roof on my apartment for a few more weeks?"

  The Mercedes pulled up to the curb in front of Brenda's house, and Karr turned the engine off. "I'm not going to hold up my plans so you can have a fancy storeroom for your belongings, if that's what you expected."

  She opened the door of the Mercedes. "And you had the gall to ask me to trust you, when you didn't even bother to tell me you'd put everything I own into limbo?" Her voice was soft; she was almost choking on the lump in her throat. "Under the circumstances, I think we'll cancel the Chinese food and the fire, so please don't bother to come in."

  Karr pulled the keys from the ignition switch with a snap. "Oh, cut out the grand lady nonsense. Just how do you think you're going to manage without a favor when your crutches are in the trunk?"

  She couldn't hide the way she flinched at the sharp edge in his voice, but Karr had already gone around to the back of the Mercedes, and by the time he got her crutches Maggie had herself under control once more.

  Silently, he carried her briefcase to the house and unlocked the door while Maggie was still fumbling to find her own key. He set the briefcase down and ignored Tripp's ecstatic greeting for the first time all week. "Maggie—"

  "Thank you for the ride," she repeated tautly. "It was kind of you to bother."

  He said something under his breath; she didn't hear the words, but the fierce tone was enough to tell her she didn't want to know precisely what it was.

  He didn't slam the door. She'd have felt better if he had; in fact, she thought about doing it herself, just to release a little strain. If it had been her own instead of Brenda's, she might have done it.

  Tripp was standing stock-still in the hall, staring at the front door as if he couldn't believe he'd been ignored by the man he'd come to worship. Then he sat down as if he intended never to move again and began to whine, a low, keening cry that acted like sandpaper on Maggie's nerves.

  "You'd better get used to it," she recommended. She limped into the living room.

  "You won't be seeing much of your hero any more."

  But she couldn't help but wonder if she was really talking to the dog, or to herself.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The only thing that consoled Maggie was work. For the next two days she buried herself in the special section for as many hours as she could; only stopping to take a break when the eyestrain became too much to bear. She hardly came out of her room except for meals; at least that way, when Karr came to see his mother, Maggie was less likely to encounter him.

  But he didn't come.

  Maggie could almost see the questions in Brenda's mind, but they remained unasked. Maggie was silently grateful, for how could she possibly explain to Karr's mother that the imaginary romance had been real after all—at least on Maggie's side? She couldn't, that was all, and have any shred of pride or dignity left.

  By Friday afternoon, she'd finished reading every unsolicited manuscript and story she'd brought home. Her briefcase was almost empty, but the pile of envelopes waiting to be returned to their authors took up half the surface of her desk. Once she was rid of those, she could cover the desktop with layout sheets and start arranging the stories in order and planning illustrations and headlines. There was still one last story to write, and a good bit of polishing remained to be done to be certain all her work was as professional as possible. But it looked as if she'd be finished at least a week before the deadline.


  At least something good had come out of all the pain, she thought, and went in search of Brenda to ask a favor.

  Brenda was in the front hall, polishing the elaborately-turned spindles which supported the stair rail. Tripp was sitting on a rug just inside the door, his chin propped against the beveled glass sidelight, staring down the walk. He turned his head when Maggie came in, but he didn't get up. He just thumped his tail twice against the marble floor in half-hearted greeting and returned to his melancholy survey of the landscape.

  Maggie's heart wrenched at the sight. None of this was Tripp's fault, but he was being punished most of all. If only there was some way to make him understand, she thought.

  "Brenda, I wondered if you might be going to the post office in the next few days," she said hesitantly. "I've got a lot of things to be mailed. There's nothing urgent—"

  "I'll be happy to take them." Brenda ran her polishing cloth around another baluster. "I have some errands to run, anyway."

  "I'll get you some money, just in case the postage isn't right." Maggie started to hobble away, but Brenda stopped her.

  "What's wrong, dear? It's plain how unhappy you are. I know you and Karr have quarreled, and you've been avoiding me for a couple of days. If there's anything I've done—"

  "No," Maggie gasped. "No, it's not you, it's me. Brenda, I'm going to look for another place to live."

  In fact, she'd already started reading the ads—without much success. Her needs had been difficult enough to meet before the accident, but with the cast it would be even tougher to find a place she could manage. Right now, though, she'd take almost anything, just to stop causing Brenda pain.

  Brenda's eyes were shadowed. "Aren't you happy here?"

 

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