CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Margo

 

It took a few days for me to get used to walking. I did it slowly, and by Monday I was ready to leave the hospital. Jay was there every second he could be, and his presence made my days happy.

We talked so much in that time. There was so much to say. And sometimes we shared silence together, the way you can share silence with someone you love.

“Ready?” Lance said. Dear Lance! He had barely left the hospital since arriving the day of the accident. I felt bad. He looked tired. Now he walked with me, carrying the bag of things Alle had brought for me: nightgown, slippers, flowers.

“Ready,” I said.

“Let’s go.”

He walked beside me, patient as I negotiated my way to the car. We got me into the passenger seat with some hilarity.

“Okay. So,” Lance grinned. “I have to admit I’m officially the world’s absolute nightmare nurse.”

I kissed his forehead where he bent to move my coat out of the wide-open door. “No, you’re fine.”

He made a face. “I don’t know about that. But, thanks. Are you in?”

“Mm.” I felt strangely sleepy, strangely peaceful now I was with him. Safe and cared for, like everything would be okay now: a feeling I liked a lot. He made me feel safe.

We sped off to my home.

While we drove, we talked. There was still one problem on the horizon.

“What can I do?”

Lance made a face. “I dunno. Mims, would you go to court?”

I stared. “I don’t think I…” It was a bad plan. How could I prove Durrell was pressuring me? I guess I had some texts, but there was no explicit reference in them. He always played just shy of actually asking me for sexual favors.

“I guess you’re right,” Lance sighed, “but what can we do? I mean, the guy has to be stopped.”

“I’m scared, Lance,” I admitted. “I don’t want to hurt my career.”

“It wouldn’t hurt your career,” Lance said, though even he sounded uncertain of that.

We looked at each other.

“I guess I could resign,” I said softly. My heart sank. This contract meant so much to me. How could I leave now?

“No,” Lance said softly. “No, there has to be an answer.”

I gripped his hand. “You’re encouraging, Lance.”

He chuckled. “Well, I wish I could be more than that.”

He helped me into my apartment and put the bag in my room. I thanked him.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” he said, pulling a face. “I wanted to stay longer…” he trailed off tiredly.

“I know. You can’t take more time off.” I nodded.

“Yeah.”

He made sure I had stuff to eat in the pantry, then hugged me and headed downstairs. I sighed.

I was making coffee when my phone rang.

“Jay?”

“Hi!” he sounded happy. “Are you at home? Listen—my flight’s not until later. Can I visit?”

I felt my tummy flutter with excitement. “Sure.”

He kissed me when he came in through the door. I felt my body lean against his and I kissed him hungrily. I sighed. We were both aroused and we walked slowly to the bedroom, supporting each other carefully.

We collapsed on the bed. He undressed me slowly, his hands caressing my body. I was wearing a skirt that he worked down over my legs and then he was kneeling between my thighs.

His mouth descended on my wet folds and I shivered as he pleasured me, his tongue licking at my clit, fingers stroking me in places I didn’t know could feel that good. I shivered and shuddered and yelled.

When I had come, he knelt up and slowly, carefully, entered me. His expression was gentle as he pushed into me and then out again. I changed the way I was lying so that I could feel him rub on all my good places. I started to shake again, amazed by the tickling throbbing sensation that was building up in me, making me come again.

He cried out an instant before me. We collapsed together.

“Man,” he whispered. “No one does what you do to me.”

I giggled. “Thank you. No one has ever done to me what you do.”

He smiled. I couldn’t see him, but I heard the damp sound of lips moving. He kissed my brow.

Later we talked. We dressed—he helped me, being more used to dressing when one could only stand lopsided—and we had tea.

“I don’t know what I can do,” I confessed. I’d just told him the story of Durrell.

“I have an idea…” he said.

“Jay, don’t do anything rash,” I said quickly. He had that brooding look that suggested to me that there was going to be trouble for someone soon.

“I won’t,” he said.

That was all he said. I sighed.

“Just…promise me you won’t hurt yourself now,” I said when the silence had endured awhile.

He nodded. “I won’t.”

He stayed until two hours before his flight. Then he kissed me and left.

“I’ll be back before you can miss me,” he promised.

I sighed. “Well, you can’t be. I miss you now.”

He laughed.

I went to sleep that night more peacefully than I had for weeks. I had a feeling that my troubles would soon be over. I trusted Jay.

On Thursday, three days after returning home, I walked into work.

“Oh my word…Margo!”

The secretary, Mrs. Reynolds, stared at me.

I greeted her. “Morning, Mrs. Reynolds. I did mention I had some issues…”

“I didn’t realize your leg was broken! You poor thing. Come in. Come inside…”

She gestured me into her office and I sat down comfortably behind the desk. There was meant to be a shoot in their studio at ten, or I wouldn’t have come in, but that gave me good half hour before I needed to go and get ready. I was pleased to be in the relative safety of her office—there was less chance of Burne finding me here.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” I confessed. “I hope nothing went wrong in my absence…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” the secretary said kindly. “You know this is the first shoot. And you’re on time for that.”

“Mm.” I nodded. I wanted to ask her if Mr. Burne was in, but I didn’t quite have the courage to ask. I didn’t want to know if he was, and I also didn’t want her to get the idea he mattered to me. As it was, though, she was being really gentle—maternal and caring. I wondered why. Probably just my injuries.

We chatted about everyday things, and then the esthetician appeared.

“Margo! There you are. Are you going to come down now? Only…”

“I’m coming,” I said.

I followed her down the hallway.

Again, she seemed subdued and attentive. I wondered why.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” she said as she sat me in the chair.

“Sorry? Why?” I frowned.

“We should have known that Burne was an ass…”

I frowned. “You heard? But…”

“I think it was so great he was exposed,” she said firmly. “I’m so glad. I never liked him.”

I frowned more. “Exposed? But what…”

“Yeah. And in the Sentinel. Good stuff.” She looked happy.

I was really confused now. The makeup was being done, though, and it was necessary to get it finished—the first shoot was in half an hour.

After the shoot—which luckily worked seamlessly round my injuries—I finally had a chance to check the news.

“Scandalous boss exposed.”

I stared. The picture of me was there again, but this time the heading was different.

“Source accuses longtime harassment suspect of preying on employees.”

I read the article. Somehow—and I had no idea how—someone had managed to find two other women from former companies where the guy had worked. I was amazed by how quickly it had all been done.

Was it Jay?

I shook my head. How could it have been? I told him about this three days ago! But it had his name on it. Quick, solid and firm.

“Jay…”

My heart was warm with love. I felt so safe. If the guy resigned or not, it didn’t matter. There was no way he was going to come near me, or harm me. If he fired me, with this kind of suspicion hanging over him, there would certainly be grounds for a case. Whether or not I had proof was immaterial now. Those pictures existed. And the testimony of two other people, whose stories were similar to mine.

I was free.

I left work shortly afterward and went to the park. I found a bench and my phone.

“You did that, didn’t you?” I said warmly.

“Margo! Did what?” He sounded confused.

“Jay! You know! The article.”

“Oh. That. Well,” he paused. “As you can see, I didn’t do it alone.”

“But Jay! What…how?” I shook my head. How had he possibly done all this so fast?

“I have a friend at the Sentinel,” he said. “Sports writer. I asked him if he knew anyone who was interested in Burne. As it happened, someone had already put together some evidence. It would have been printed sometime anyway. I just, well, hurried it up.”

I laughed. “Jay, you’re wonderful.”

“No, I’m not,” he said gently. “You are, though.”

I chuckled. “You’re more wonderful then.”

“Well, I could just say you’re most wonderful.”

I pulled a face even though he couldn’t see it. “Do you have to always win every argument?”

He chuckled. “Sometimes.”

We chatted a while longer and then hung up. I was so happy.

That night, I talked to Lance. He was as happy as I was that things were finally settled. I could enjoy my work.

“You love him, don’t you, Mimi…”

I laughed. “I love him.”

Just saying it made my heart soar. I loved the way it sounded. I love Jay. I wanted to tell everyone. I knew it was silly. But somehow, even though I felt like I was being like a teen, I knew it made no difference how old you are. It always felt as good.

“Well.” He sighed. “Houghton’s quite far.”

“It is,” I said, frowning. That was the one tricky thing about our relationship. I was tied down here for work for at least five years. I had no idea how his work looked, but I could imagine he had a similar situation.

“Never mind,” I said confidently. “We’ll fix it.”

I felt sure we could.

As it happened, the solution came up by chance.

“Margo,” Jay said as we talked on the phone. “You know…I’ve been thinking.”

“Mm?” I asked.

“When I chatted to Rudi at the newspaper, he had an idea.”

“Oh?”

“Well, he asked me if I didn’t maybe want to join their team. As sportswriter. I said…”

He trailed off as I interrupted him with a shout. “Jay! That’s brilliant.”

“I dunno about brilliant,” he said shyly. I laughed.

“Well, it could be amazing. It could work out perfectly. Oh, Jay. That’s such good news.”

“Margo, I love your enthusiasm.”

I chuckled. “I love you, Jay. All of you.”

“I love you too.”