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She was so tired of this old argument. She found a dishcloth and wiped the coffee grounds from the counter. “I’d never ask you to quit being a lawyer, Greg.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“Being a lawyer means just as much to you as being an FBI agent means to me.”
“But being a lawyer doesn’t get me cut up and almost killed. It doesn’t have me stalking around my own house with a loaded gun and almost shooting my spouse.” He returned the broom, slamming it into the utility closet.
“Well, after today I guess it won’t be an issue,” she said quietly.
He stopped. His gray eyes met hers and for a brief moment he looked sad, almost apologetic. Then he looked away, snatching the dishcloth Maggie had set aside. He wiped the counter again in careful, deliberate swipes as though she had disappointed him even in this small task.
“So when are the guys from United getting here?” he wanted to know, as if it were a move they had pla
She glanced at the wall clock. “They’ll be here at eight. But I didn’t hire United.”
“Maggie, you have to be careful about movers. They’ll rip you off. You should know…” He stopped, as if reminding himself it was no longer any of his business. “Suit yourself.” He started filling the coffeemaker with level, precise scoops, pursing his lips to confine the scolding he normally would have unleashed on her.
Maggie watched him, predicting his movements, knowing he’d fill the pot to the three-cup line and that he’d squat to eye level to make certain it was exact. She recognized the familiar routine and wondered when they had become strangers. After almost ten years of marriage, they couldn’t even afford each other the courtesies of friendship. Instead, every conversation seemed to be through clenched teeth.
Maggie turned and went back to the spare room, waiting, but hoping he wouldn’t follow her. Not this time. She wouldn’t get through this day if he continued to scold and pout or worse, if he resorted to telling her he still loved her. Those words should have been a comfort; instead, they had come to feel like a sharp knife, especially when he followed them with, “And if you loved me you would quit your job.”
She returned to the liquor cabinet where she had left the glass of Scotch. The sun had barely risen and already she needed her daily dose of liquid bravery to get her through the day. Her mother would be proud. The two of them finally had something in common.
She glanced around the room while she sipped. How could this stack of cartons be the sum of her life? She rubbed a hand over her face, feeling the exhaustion as though it had taken up permanent residence in her bones. How long had it been since she had slept through an entire night? When was the last time she had felt safe? She was so tired of feeling as though she was trapped on a ledge, coming closer and closer to falling.
Assistant Director Cu
CHAPTER 2
Tess McGowan wished she had worn different shoes. These pinched and the heels were too tall. Every nerve ending in her body concentrated on not tripping as she walked up the winding sidewalk, all the while pretending not to notice the eyes that followed her. The movers had stopped unloading the truck as soon as her black Miata pulled into the drive. Sofa ends stayed in midair. Hand-trucks remained tipped. Boxes were ignored while the men in sweaty, blue uniforms stopped to watch her.
She hated the attention and cringed at the possibility of a wolf whistle. Especially in this well-manicured neighborhood where the sanctuary-like silence would make the whistles even more obscene.
This was ridiculous; her silk blouse stuck to her, and her skin crawled. She wasn’t close to being stu
It wasn’t the men’s fault. It wasn’t even their primal instinct to watch that bothered her as much as what seemed to be her involuntary reflex to put on a show for them. The a
But that had been a lifetime ago, certainly too many years ago to trip her up now. After all, she was on her way to becoming a successful businesswoman. So why the hell did the past have such a hold on her? And how could something as harmless as a few indiscreet stares, from men she didn’t know, dismantle her poise and make her question her hard-earned respectability? They made her feel like a fraud. As if, once again, she was masquerading as something she was not. By the time she reached the front entrance, she wanted to turn and run. Instead, she took a deep breath and knocked on the heavy oak door that had been left half-open.
“Come on in,” a woman’s voice called from behind the door.
Tess found Maggie O’Dell at the panel of buttons and blinking lights that made up the house’s newly installed security system.
“Oh, hi, Ms. McGowan. Did we forget to sign some papers?” Maggie only glanced at Tess while she punched the small keyboard and continued to program the device.
“Please, you really must call me Tess.” She hesitated in case Maggie wanted to say the same, but wasn’t surprised when there was no such invitation. Tess knew it wasn’t that Maggie was rude, just that she liked to keep her distance. It was something Tess could relate to, something she understood and respected. “No, there aren’t any more papers. I promise. I knew today was the big move. Just wanted to see how things were going.
“Take a look around, I’m almost finished with this.”
Tess walked from the foyer into the living room. The afternoon sunlight filled the room, but thankfully all the windows were open, a cool south breeze replacing the stale warm air. Tess wiped at her forehead, disappointed to find it damp. She examined her client out of the corner of her eyes.
Now, this was a woman who deserved to be ogled by men. Tess knew Maggie was close to her own age, somewhere in her early thirties. But without the usual power suit, Maggie could easily pass for a college student. Dressed in a ratty University of Virginia T-shirt and threadbare jeans, she failed to hide her shapely athletic figure. She had a natural beauty no one could manufacture. Her skin was smooth and creamy. Her short dark hair shone even though it was mussed and tangled. She possessed rich brown eyes and high cheekbones that Tess would kill for. Yet, Tess knew that the men who had stopped in their tracks just moments before to stare at her would not dare do the same to Maggie O’Dell, though they would definitely want to and it would take tremendous effort not to.
Yes, there was something about this woman. Something Tess had noticed the very first day they had met. She couldn’t quite describe it. It was the way Maggie carried herself, the way she appeared, at times, to be oblivious to the outside world. The way she seemed totally unaware of her effect on people. It was something that invoked—no, demanded, respect. Despite her designer suits and expensive car, Tess would never capture that ability, that power. Yet for all their differences, Tess had felt an immediate kinship with Maggie O’Dell. They both seemed so alone.