by Elaine Fox
Marcy shook her head. “But she’s spent more time with you. You’re her home, Truman, I think you should have her.”
Folly still wound around Marcy’s legs, pressing her face against her thigh as Marcy looked down at her.
“Look at her,” Truman said, slight smile on his face. “Looks to me like she’s made her decision.”
Marcy paused and looked him in the eye. “I couldn’t, Truman. She’d be this happy to see anyone who’d pet her and you know it.”
They stood looking at each other for a long moment. “Maybe…” Truman began, then stopped, his face troubled.
“Maybe what?” she asked, heart pounding hard in anticipation.
“Maybe we could both keep her?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket.
“Both of us?” she repeated. “You mean like…like shared custody?”
One side of his mouth rose in a smile. “Well, maybe not something with so much paperwork involved.”
“But…you’d have to see me then,” Marcy said. “You know, when we swapped her off.”
“And you’d have to see me,” he said quietly.
She took a deep breath. “Truman, I want to see you.”
For a second she thought he’d misunderstood her. His expression became so open, so hopeful, that she wondered if he understood what she meant. That she wanted to see him, date him. Love him, if he’d let her.
“I want to see you, too, Marcy.”
She wasn’t sure what to say, how to elaborate, tell him what she meant.
He looked behind her at the door to her former building. “Do you think we could go inside and talk about this?”
Marcy glanced back at the door behind her, then, with a small laugh, she looked at Truman and said, “We can’t. I’ve moved out. I was just here today to clean up.”
He looked concerned. “Moved out? I thought you owned it. Where did you go?”
She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I was just renting. I’m at Trish’s, for now. My lease was up at the end of the month and I realized I didn’t want to sign up for another year of…this.” She gestured toward the building, then looked back at him. “I guess…I realized I wasn’t living the life I wanted. I was making too many decisions based on things that shouldn’t matter.”
“Marcy, I—”
“No, wait.” She held up a hand. Now that she’d gotten started she didn’t want to stop. “I want to tell you this. In fact, I was just on my way to your mother’s house to talk to you.”
He looked amazed. “You were?”
She nodded. “I wanted to tell you how wrong I was, and how right you were. I know you were—”
“Marcy, wait. Stop right there. I came here to apologize to you. First of all, I didn’t tell you the truth about myself, I let you believe I was this blue-collar guy who knew all about life on the seedy side.” He chuckled once, ruefully. “But you set me straight on that. And you were absolutely right.”
“I was an absolute bitch.”
“No.” He shook his head. “No, you were right. Second of all, I wrote you off as spoiled and money-driven and all those awful things I said that night when I didn’t know you well enough to make those assumptions. I had no right to criticize you, Marcy. And regardless of whether or not I had the right, I didn’t even have the facts.”
She felt a smile pressing to come forth. “But I could say the exact same thing to you, Tru. In fact, I planned on saying the exact same thing to you.”
He smiled and his eyes were so warm on her face she felt emotion well up in her breast.
“Then maybe we should start fresh,” he said, taking her hand.
She gripped it tightly, letting the smile burst onto her face. “Yes. Start over, without any preconceptions. No fears, and no doubts.”
“Well, I do have one preconception,” he said, looking down at their locked hands. “If you’ll allow me to keep it, I’d appreciate it.”
She took one step toward him, took his hand in both of hers. Folly stepped between them, licking alternately at Marcy’s shoes, then Truman’s.
“Of course,” she said. “Anything. What is it?”
“It’s that I love you, Marcy. And I know I’m not wrong about that.”
He stepped forward, placed his other hand against the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. Marcy felt the rough leather of the leash in his palm against her skin and smiled.
“I love you, too,” she said, the words husky with emotion. “So much more than you can know.”
He pulled her close, his arms encircling her. Marcy could feel the beating of his heart against hers as he bent to kiss her, and she put her arms around his neck, holding him close, thinking she’d never let go again.
After a moment he drew back. “I have another proposition for you, Paglinowski,” he said, gazing intently at her. “I’m thinking about opening up a private practice in a town called Windslip, North Carolina. It’s a small, seafaring town on the coast that needs a competent lawyer or two.”
She drew back a fraction, hands clutching his shoulders, and looked at him in fear. “You’re going away?”
He shook his head. “Not without you. Would you consider coming with me? Don’t answer me now. Just think about it.”
She tilted her head, and smiled, relief making her feel giddy. “I don’t need to think about it, Truman. I’d love to be your partner.”
He grinned. “Do you mean that?”
She nodded.
“Then perhaps you’d consider another partnership proposition,” he said, stepping away from her and bending down on one knee.
Marcy looked at him in shock, her heart in her throat.
Folly leapt on him, licking him in the face, on the ear, along the neck. He gently pushed her away.
“Marcy Paglinowski,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box. “Will you marry me?”
Marcy put her hands to her mouth, incapable of speech. Her heart thundered and her breath caught in her chest, but she could nod. And nod she did, tears streaming from her eyes, until Truman stood up and took her in his arms again, kissing her soundly until the tears nearly dried on her cheeks.
About the Author
ELAINE FOX grew up in Maryland in a family of avid readers and talented writers. After receiving her B.A. in English, she spent several years working in academic and corporate environments before deciding to pursue her dream of writing a book. Fox is now the USA Today bestselling author of twelve contemporary and historical romances and three anthologies. She lives in Virginia, where she is currently at work on her next book.
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Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
MAN AT WORK. Copyright © 2002 by Elaine McShulskis. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub © Edition JANUARY 2009 ISBN: 9780061974847
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