Chapter Eight

“Maggie.” He fought to keep his voice even. “Time is short. You know that, right? If we can save two or three days and the whole back-and-forth with couriers and e-mail comments, don’t you think we should do that? Especially since you’ll need to send me an estimate for an upfront payment of materials?”

She narrowed her eyes. Lord, I hate it when he’s reasonable. “I guess so.”

“OK,” he said, relieved. “So, I’ll drop by your studio on Friday morning. Does nine o’clock work for you?”

She shrugged. “Sure.” She turned to go.

“Wait. Maggie, wait. Please.”

“What?”

Joe struggled with his words. “Don’t you think – maybe we should – since we’re working together now, do you want to clear the air? Between us?”

Maggie crossed her arms. “I have nothing to say to you, except send me my damn money and I’ll see you on Friday at nine o’clock. If you have anything non-professional to get off your chest, go ahead.”

“Uh. OK.”

She stared up at him calmly.

“I – I just… oh, God, Maggie. I wanted to say I’m sorry. To finally apologize to you for what happened… that night.”

He dared to look at her. Her face was still and almost disinterested. There wasn’t even a hint of anger on it.

“I – what I did to you, the things I said to you, it was all unforgivable. I know that.” Joe took a deep breath. “You were – you were right to walk out on me. To break it off.”

Silence. He spoke again:

“But I’m different now, I swear it… I’d never treat anyone that way, not ever again. I was a fucking spoiled brat. An arrogant asshole. A womanizing dickhead.”

“And now you’re not?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Now I’m not. I’m – I’ve learned a lot in the past couple of years. I’ve been knocked around a bit by life, and I’m – I’m not the same man.”

“And you’re telling me this… why?”

“Because I know you hate me, and that’s fair enough. But we’re going to be spending lots of time together over the next few months and I was thinking, can we at least try to get along, get to know each other again? Maybe even be friends?”

“No.”

He paused. “Just – no?”

“Just no.” She turned again. “So, send me my damn money and I’ll see you on Friday at nine o’clock. Take care.”

She swept out of the restaurant, fighting to keep her anger in check. Friends? Holy fuck, was he serious? Nope, no way. Not ever. He was a commission that was going to save her mother’s life, and for that much, she could be grateful to him. Beyond that, it was all noise and distraction.

And I can’t afford noise or distraction. I need to meet every single term of my contract, hit every single deadline, get my full f*e. One slip-up, and he gets to withhold ten percent right off the top. And don’t kid yourself, girl, he’d withhold it in a heartbeat and with a smile on that gorgeous face. I can’t relax. Not for one minute.

Maggie jumped on the light rail to the hospital. She needed to sign the final financial agreement, and then she had to get her ass to the studio and start sketching. She had lots of work to do, and her Mom’s surgery was scheduled for first thing the next morning.

I’ll stay up and work all night, so I can be there all day tomorrow.

Maggie closed her eyes, gathered her strength.

I can do this. I can do all of this.