When I didn’t respond, he looked up.
“Did I do something? I need to be sure I didn’t hurt you, or say something that hurt you.” He stood but didn’t approach. “Margo, I thought we had some sort of understanding. I would’ve never—”
“Nothing like that.” I found my bag and slung it over my shoulder. “I had fun. That’s what this was ... right? Fun. Letting off some steam.” I acted as if I did this all the time, when in fact, I felt like a soldier dropped into enemy territory.
Running his hand through his already messy hair, Mick frowned. “I don’t know. I was hoping it wouldn’t end this abruptly, but okay. I would never go against your wishes, you know that?”
Heading toward the door of his condo, I said, “See you around, Mick the fixer. Thanks for a great night.”
He padded over and pulled me close, brushing his lips over my cheek. “It’s been a pleasure, Margaret.”
His using my full name burned, but it had been my idea to get up and walk out in the middle of a glass of wine. I was having fun, no one was waiting for me, and when they were, it ended in pain.
I was leaving, though.
“’Bye,” I said quickly, and then got the hell out of there.
If I knew anything at all about myself, it was that I wasn’t capable of this type of thing. Wishing the elevator would make a speedy approach, I scolded myself for even meeting Mick tonight.
“You know better,” I whispered under my breath as the doors opened and I hurried to the ground floor to catch my Uber.
Mick
“Now boarding Platinum members and the first-class cabin,” the woman behind the podium said into the microphone.
With my briefcase tucked under my arm, I scanned my boarding pass and walked down the jetway. Exhaustion hit about twenty minutes ago. Rather than grabbing a coffee, I had a few fingers of Scotch at the airport bar. I’d worry tomorrow if it was a bad decision, but right now I wanted to catch some z’s on the plane and get home to catch up on my latest business interest.
Seated in first class, I closed my eyes until the airline attendant walked by, offering, “Water? Coffee? Champagne?”
Opening an eye, I asked for water, and she asked, “Still or sparkling?”
Instead of answering like the grown-up I was, I was transported to the night at the bar with Margo. Our bottle of sparkling water had sat there mostly untouched while we drank the real stuff and had even realer conversation. She was the first woman I’d connected with in a long while, and she was taken.
“Still or sparkling?” the attendant asked again, still waiting for my answer.
“Still, please.”
The flight attendant hustled off to attend to my needs, and I laughed to myself.
She couldn’t fulfill my needs if she tried. The caveman in me wanted the wild-haired blonde who breathed life into me with her love of writing and all things mysterious to me.
This version of me wanted to take Margaret up against a wall again, maybe a little slower. Then again, harder. The decent man in me wanted to rescue the broken woman and put her back together, maybe making her mine along the way. Neither was a good idea, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“Here you go,” the slight brunette said, handing me my water. She stood there a moment longer, batting her eyes at me.
I pretended not to notice. I drank my water and closed my eyes, hoping for some rest.
The Chicago project was mostly wrapped up. I’d bought a flailing app, a high-tech rating system for schools, and turned it around fairly quickly. It provided rankings for every school in the country, elementary through college, and offered a fee-for-service feature for those who wanted actual reviews on a school.
It was a fun project, but not a company I wanted to hold on to. Tech-type companies were best sold to techies who wanted to advance them. I repaired their corporate staffing and brought in a new designer, and that helped tremendously. It started seeing profits pretty quickly, and now I had a buyer, from Boston too.
Thank God, going over the paperwork in my head brought sleep easily. I dozed for the rest of the flight, waking up when we touched down in Boston.
“Plans for tonight?” the brunette asked as we taxied to the gate.
“Just home.” My answer was curt, but I wasn’t in the mood to lead her on.
“Oh, you’re from here? I thought I heard New York when you said water earlier.”
