Fighting History (Fighting For Love Book 4) (9 page)

“You took me as a client to pay for the transplant, didn’t you?”

She was silent.

“Maggie? Didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“My God.” He stared at her. “You’ve been dealing with this insane deadline, and all this stuff with your Mom, and helping Reena… no wonder you’ve been so wrecked and exhausted.”

She bit her lip.

“What can I do, sweetness?”

“Please.” He started at the pain in her voice. “Please, Joe. Don’t call me that anymore.” She fought back her tears. “It just – it hurts me, OK? It reminds me of… of before. Of what happened. And I don’t want to go back to all of that.”

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “God, I really fucked it all up with you, huh?”

Maggie didn’t say anything for a minute. Then in a small voice she said, “Why did you?”

“What? Fuck it all up?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at her. “You sure you really want to talk about this now, with everything going on with your Mom?”

“Yes.”

“OK.” He drank some wine. “Truth? I fucked it all up because I could.”

Maggie stared. “That’s – that’s it? You cheated on me because you could?”

“Yeah. I wish there was more to it than that, but there’s not, really. I mean, I treated you like crap in so many ways, and the cheating was just one more way.” Joe cocked his head at her. “Can I ask
you
something now?”

“I guess so.”

“Why did you?”

“Why did I what?”

“Let me treat you like crap.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Why did you put up with it?”

She was stunned. “So – what? You’re saying the cheating was my fault?
I
didn’t stick your dick in those women, Joe.”

“No, that was all me. But I disrespected you long before you caught me that night. I was always late, I stood you up, I cancelled dates at the last possible second. I missed your first really big exhibition, for Christ sake, and my excuse was fucking lame. And whenever you so much as protested about anything, I shut you up with sex.” He met her eyes. “Why did you let me do all that to you, Maggie? You deserved better. Didn’t you know that?”

“I – I loved you.”

“So that was supposed to excuse everything I did? Make it all OK? Love conquers all, and all of that?”

“I…”

“No, Maggie.” Joe leaned forward, and she felt his blazing intensity from across the table. “
No
. I was an asshole, and a lousy boyfriend. I got away with whatever I could, and I was constantly trying to get away with more and more. I never really believed that I’d have a permanent, lasting relationship with anyone, so I saw no major harm when you ended it. I barely noticed for a few months, even.
That’s
what a fucking dickhead I was back then.”

Maggie thought about how totally devastated she’d been after she left Joe, and it killed her to know that he hadn’t even felt a pinprick of pain. Her chest felt tight and she was suddenly very sorry that she’d started this conversation.

Well, you asked, girl. You wanted to talk about this; you wanted to know. Suck it up.

“And now?” she said. “When I first took this job, you told me that some stuff had happened to you in the past couple of years. That you’re not the same person you were then. So who are you now?”

He grinned at her. “Oh, man. I got knocked down a few pegs, let me tell you.”

“How so?”

“One sec.” He went over to the stove and checked the food. “Yeah, this is good. I’ll stick it in the oven and then we’ll talk.”

“OK.”

He came back to the table now, poured a bit more wine for both of them. She watched him settle his large, muscular body in to the chair, and she felt a burst of longing to kiss him. No matter how angry and hurt she’d been over the past two years, she’d never, ever forgotten what it had felt like to have Joe against her, in her. The man was a dream to touch; always had been.

Maybe that was part of the problem? You were so amazed that a man this hot actually had anything to do with you, you were willing to put up with every and any humiliation just to keep him in your bed? Is that possible?

“So.” Joe’s blue eyes gazed at her. “Lots happened.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, first, my grandfather died.”

Maggie gasped. Steven Carlisle had been a great man: kind, smart, funny. She’d liked him very much, and she knew that Joe had adored his grandfather, that they’d been very close. That kind of loss would have destroyed him, she knew.

“Oh, Joe. I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

“Thanks. He died about three months after you broke things off with me, and that was when I finally started to understand that you were more to me than some random chick.”

“It was?”

“Yeah.” He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “When he died, I wanted to call you. I – I almost did, a hundred times. I wanted you to come and be with me. I felt like… like I needed you there to comfort me. Help me through it.”

“You did?”

“Uh-huh. But then I remembered all the things I said to you when you caught me with that woman, the look on your face. And I just couldn’t call you. I knew you hated me.” Joe looked at her, his eyes open and honest, strangely vulnerable. “I knew it, and I deserved it.”

She was silent.

“Anyway.” He pulled himself together. “Grandpa died, and it blew a huge fucking hole in my life, you know? I was so… lonely, all of a sudden. Alone. My string of one-night-stands didn’t help at all. In fact, they made it worse, made me feel more and more small and sad. That was when it hit me, hard. I missed you.”

Maggie sighed. “God, Joe.”

“I know.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’m an idiot, huh?”

“Yeah.”

The shared a smile.

“So, that was a body blow. Then, Dad cut me off.”

Maggie started. “You mean, financially?”

“Yep. Said that he and Grandpa had supported me for years, and that the free ride was over. I already had one successful restaurant, you know, and when I went to Dad to give me the money for this one, he told me to do it myself.”

“Wow.”

“Uh-huh. Said that I could use my own business as collateral for a bank loan, use my established restaurant and its reputation to attract investors. Told me to start acting like a thirty-three-year-old businessman, not a trust-fund brat. He reminded me that Grandpa had come from nothing at all and worked his way up in the world, and that he’d made Dad finance his own way. He wanted to see some of that same grit and hard work in me.”

Maggie blinked. “Harsh. But not totally off-base.”

“I know. I mean, I know
now
. But two years ago? I was furious. I had this fucking entitled attitude and I was stunned that Dad didn’t hand over millions just ‘cause I wanted the money.”

She grinned. She’d always liked Amos, Joe’s Dad, and she adored him even more right now.

“Then what happened?” she said.

“I got my arrogant ass and monster ego kicked all over this state and two others.”

“What?”

“I set up a bunch of meetings with some business people who came to my restaurant, and I swaggered on in there like they should be
lucky
to give me money to do what I wanted. I just thought I was so hot and talented – and I thought that these money people would be on their knees with gratitude to invest in my restaurant. But man, was I wrong.”

Maggie was fascinated. This self-deprecating guy in front of her was funny and warm, and it surprised her that she actually liked him.

“So they didn’t kiss your ass?” she said.

“Nope. They hauled back and kicked it. With steel-toed boots.”

She laughed.

“It was one hell of a reality check, I tell you.” Joe shook his dark head. “They all thought I had cooking talent, no doubt about that. But they knew that all my money came from my family, that Dad and Grandpa were the safety net if something went wrong. The news that I was out on my own didn’t really inspire confidence.” He grinned. “They called me a shallow playboy, fooling around with Daddy’s money and screwing all the waitresses. Said I couldn’t be trusted with
their
money – that I wasn’t a man of my word. That I had no idea what it was to really take responsibility for anything.”

“They said that?”

“Yep. That and a whole lot more. They didn’t hold back, I promise you. Laid it out right in front of me, used small words to make sure I got the whole damn thing.”

“That must have hurt.”

“Not at first. At first, I got pissed. But then I heard the same thing over and over again – in Denver and New York and Dallas – and I realized that I was actually getting what was possibly the best and most honest feedback of my life.” He shrugged. “I stopped talking and started listening, you know? That was when things changed.”

“Changed how?”

“I found one man who was willing to take a chance on me, but only if I agreed to get a bank loan for a significant part of this place, using my first restaurant as collateral. He said that he needed to see that I was totally serious about this, and ready to risk and lose. He insisted that I invest in myself… show him that I had the belief and confidence that I could make this restaurant work.”

“And you did it?”

“I did it.” Joe exhaled. “It was terrifying, having to put my money where my mouth was, for the first time in my life. If
this
place fails, I lose
both
restaurants. That’s one hell of a motivator, I can tell you, but it’s also shown me what it’s like to really be all-in. You know? Like, totally committed and focused and accountable to something other than myself and my ego.”

Maggie stared at him, simply unable to believe that this was Joe talking.

“Anyway.” He took a sip of wine. “As soon as this man invested, others came on board, and before I knew it, I had more than I’d been looking for originally. I’m building my dream restaurant, Maggie, but it’s not easy.”

She studied him, taking in the shadows around his eyes. “It’s not going well?”

“Some things are, lots of things aren’t.” He sighed heavily. “I’m not an experienced businessman, you know, and Dad handled most everything except the menu when I started the other restaurant, so it’s been one hell of a learning curve. Dealing with the workmen, and budgets, and shareholders. It’s all new.”

“And the menu here?” she asked softly.

“Not great.” His handsome face was tense. “I’m so wrapped up in all the other stuff, I feel like what I’m really good at – creating dishes, combining flavors – is hard to get to. I just don’t have the time to do what I really love.”

“But you can now, right?” Maggie said. “I mean, the construction is coming together at last, you have one apsara, and with the extension of four weeks, I can easily finish the last three before the hard opening. I know you’ve hired some staff, I see the kitchen’s ready to go.” She cocked her head at him, and he watched as her long hair fell over one shoulder in warm waves. “Can’t you take some time for the menu?”

“I hope so. That’s what today was all about… playing and experimenting.”

“Well, I’m happy to be a guinea pig,” she said. “I’ll be a taste-tester.”

He laughed. “Yeah, OK. Speaking of which, let me get our dinner.”

“Sure.”

Maggie watched Joe take the food out of the oven, taste it, add something, taste again. He nodded to himself and she smiled at the look on his face. It was one that she remembered well; it was pure happiness, and she’d only ever seen him look this way when he was cooking.

As he plated up the food, her mind started to wander over their conversation, and she thought about his question to her: why she had allowed him to treat her badly. It hadn’t been an accusation, she saw now, or an excuse for anything that he’d done. No, quite the opposite, actually – tonight, Joe had taken full responsibility for his own behavior and decisions while they had been together. But she hadn’t.

“Joe?”

He heard something in her voice and turned. “Yeah?”

“I want – I’d like to answer your question now.”

Joe gazed at her. “OK.”

“But first, I want to call the hospital… check in.”

“You do that.” He sprinkled something on the dishes. “Give this a minute to cool down.”

Maggie didn’t even bother to put a few symbolic or token feet between them, didn’t turn her back to make a point. She just picked up her cell and called the nurse’s station. Joe watched and listened, leaning his huge frame against the counter.

“Hi, it’s Maggie Branson again. How is she?” She paused. “Oh. What did the doctor say?” She looked over at Joe, and he took a step forward when he saw her turn pale. “What does that mean?” She listened and he saw a muscle in her cheek jump. “Is that an extraordinary measure? You know Mom requested that none of those be taken.”

Oh, shit. Oh, no. It sounds like Rita’s crashing…

Maggie relaxed now, and so Joe did too. “OK,” she said. “I’ll be there soon. Tell Mom I’ll be with her in an hour or so, I hope.” She disconnected and stared blankly down at the table.

“Maggie?” Joe said. “What’s going on?”

She sighed. “Nothing unusual. Her temperature spiked, so they had to change drugs.”

“And?”

“And it’s working. She’s conscious and lucid.” Her hands were twisting around again. “But she wants me there. She’s asking for me.”

“Thank God.” Joe breathed more easily. “What was that about extraordinary measures?”

“Yeah, they had to put her on some kind of respirator for a little while, but she doesn’t want to be kept alive by machines. So anything that can help her is fine, and machines that monitor her vitals are OK, but anything that does all the work isn’t.”

“She’s – she’ll die before letting any machine keep her alive? Not even for a little while, to see if she may come back?”

“Yes and no.” Maggie blinked as tears filled her eyes again. “If she’s brain dead and her body can’t function on its own, she wants to have the machines keep her organs healthy enough for transplant purposes. But she wants to just – let go. She wants me to let her go.”

“Oh, baby,” he said softly. “I am so, so sorry.”

She nodded, trying to stay in control, but it was hard. She was horrified when a sob burst out of her throat; she was even more horrified when Joe knelt down in front of her and pulled her to him. His strong arms wrapped around her and he pulled Maggie forward in her chair until her forehead was resting against his thickly-muscled shoulder.