Well, hey! I hope your life is a bit calmer than mine at the moment…. I’m home with two sick kids, and that has just wreaked havoc on my writing. Such is the life of an indie author with small children, though, right?
Since my schedule has been totally messed up, the planned release date for ‘Fighting History’ (November 4th) is like, total fiction. Oh, how I laugh at the thought of finishing the book by then 😉 I then planned to publish on November 10th, but even that’s looking a bit optimistic. I guess I’ll just have to cross my fingers and do my best and beg for your patience. I’ll let you know…
For now, I’ll share a short excerpt with you. I hope this will tease your interest a bit!
**
Maggie Branson clutched her mother’s hand, trying to stay calm. She knew her Mom was nervous and freaked out enough, and the last thing the woman needed was to know how anxious her daughter was.
Doctor Carrie Langston came in to her office now, and Maggie and Rita sat up straight. Carrie sat at her desk and opened the file she was holding.
“Rita,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
Maggie felt her mother’s shoulders slump.
“Really?” Rita said quietly. “No choice anymore?”
“I’m afraid not.” Carrie’s light blue eyes were kind. “Your diabetes has damaged your right kidney to the point where transplant is the only viable option. Dialysis has worked well for almost two years, but it’s not meant to be a permanent solution, as you know. Its whole purpose is to keep you alive and healthy long enough to find a donor kidney.”
“And is there one?” Maggie asked. “A donor?”
“Yes.” Carrie smiled. “We found a match on the national register. Your Mom’s name is at the top of the list, so she gets the privilege of first-refusal.”
The two women sighed in relief.
“Now.” Carrie looked serious. “We need to talk about the last part of this.”
“The money,” Rita said.
“Yes. Your insurance has covered your dialysis, but it won’t cover the transplant.”
They nodded. They’d known this for a long while, but they had avoided looking at the problem directly because dialysis had still been working. Now, though, they had no choice but to face facts. And the fact was that if they wanted that kidney, they had to come up with somewhere in the neighborhood of almost two hundred thousand dollars.
“How much time do we have?” Maggie asked. “When do we have to give an answer?”
“Now.”
She started. “Now? Right now?”
“Yes.” Carrie looked at their shocked faces. “The person is still on life support, but the plan is to remove them from it tomorrow. The organs will be harvested quickly, and must be sent on right away. I know it’s fast, and I’m sorry…. but if you want that kidney, Rita, I must accept on your behalf today. Within an hour.”
“Oh, God.” Maggie heard the despair in her mother’s voice. “But – but I don’t have anything close to what we need. We’ve been saving and fundraising, but we still need most of it.”
“You can work out a payment plan after, Rita. Get the surgery and worry about that all later.”
“No.” Rita shook her dark head. “I can’t do that… I can’t live the rest of my life with that kind of massive debt hanging over my head. And if something happens to me, it lands on Maggie and I won’t have that.”
Maggie was silent.
“Maggie?” Carrie said. “What do you think?”
“I think I can get the money,” she said slowly.
Rita and Carrie stared at her.
“You – what?” Rita demanded. “From where?”
“Never mind, Mom. That’s for me to worry about.”
“No it isn’t!” Rita said. “Where the hell can you get that kind of money on short notice? And if you can get it, why didn’t you say something before?”
“It’s a commission, Mom. One that’s been offered to me over and over again and I keep turning it down. But I can take it. It’ll cover quite a bit of the costs. Maybe all of them.”
“Why did you turn it down?” Rita said. “What’s wrong with the job?”
“Nothing’s wrong with the job. It’s the client.”
“Who’s the client?” her mother demanded. “Is he some criminal or something?”
“No.” Maggie sighed. “No, nothing like that.”
Carrie leaned forward. “So… you’re saying you can finance this, Maggie?”
“Yes.” She pushed her long brown hair back from her face. “Yes, I can and I will. Get that kidney here, Carrie. Mom will take it, and the hospital can bill me. I’ll handle everything.”
“Maggie,” Rita began. “I don’t think…”
“Mom.” Maggie’s voice was firm. “I’ll take care of it, OK? You need to focus on your health now. Let me worry about the cost.”
Rita bit her lip. “I don’t know… I don’t think…”
“Mom.” Her voice was softer now. “Really, it’s OK. It’s nothing illegal or unethical or anything that will land me in jail, I swear. It’s just that I don’t like this guy very much, and I won’t enjoy working with him. But he’s very rich and it’s a huge commission and he’s been begging me.” She smiled. “It’ll be OK. Just take the kidney, so you can be healthy. Alright?”
The two women stared at each other for a minute.
“OK,” Rita said finally. “OK, honey. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem, Mom.” Maggie hugged her mother. “Listen, I’d better get out of here and accept that job… can you handle all the paperwork and get yourself home?”
“Of course.”
Maggie stood up and shook Carrie’s hand. “Thanks,” she said. “We’ll stay in touch, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Rita and Carrie watched Maggie leave the office, then they looked at each other.
“That was – surprising,” Carrie said.
Rita nodded. “Yeah. And I don’t like it.”
“Honestly?” Carrie said. “Me neither. You have any idea what it might be?”
“None.” Rita stared at the closed door, worry still hard and tight in her chest. “Not a clue.”
**
Joe Carlisle glared around his restaurant. Six months until the planned opening, and nothing was fucking coming together. It was still a goddamned construction site, he was having trouble finding staff, he was struggling to finalize the menu and worst of all, he had nobody competent to handle the sculptures he so desperately wanted. In his original vision of the restaurant, he’d imagined the massive sculptures being a talking-point of his place; a highlight that would set his restaurant apart from any other in Denver.
Of course, that plan had assumed a lot of things. Mostly, it had assumed that she’d accept the commission. Without her, the whole fucking thing had fallen apart pretty fast, and despite almost a year of asking her to reconsider, the stubborn woman just refused to do the job.
Joe had tried everything he could think of. The year before, he’d gone to a conference he knew she’d be at – though he had no earthly reason to be there, since he was a chef and the conference was for artists – and he’d begged her in person. When that failed dismally, he’d started sending her e-mails and texts, which she’d pointedly ignored. Flowers and gifts were returned without comment. In desperation, Joe had started calling her friends, asking them to please get her to call him back, but even that hadn’t panned out.
Goddammit, Maggie. Why can’t you just let all that shit between us go, and come and do the job?
He ran his large hands through his dark hair and sighed heavily. Time was running out, and he was at the point where he had to face facts: she wasn’t going to get on board. No matter how much money he threw at her, she was sticking to her guns. There had been a time when he’d admired her guts, but now, not so much.
Fuck. I guess I’ll have to work with that Angela woman… not even close to my first choice, but she’ll do.
Joe reached in to his pocket and pulled out his cell. He scrolled through the phone book, looking for Angela’s number. Her portfolio wasn’t bad, after all, it just wasn’t what he wanted. Her work didn’t have Maggie’s grace combined with power, that amazing talent she had for making her female sculptures seem both delicate and strong.
Just like Maggie.
And there they were again, those thoughts. The ones that kept Joe up at night, long after his woman-of-that-moment had gone to sleep. The ones that, as time had passed, more and more resembled regret.
I should never have let her go. It was a mistake. I was stupid. I should have tried harder with her. I should have been different.
Forcing his mind away from the memory of Maggie moaning under him, her curvy thighs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in tight, he focused on his phone again. That was when the restaurant door opened and Joe blinked in total shock. Maggie was standing there.
She was wearing jeans, those brown boots that he knew she loved, and an oversized white shirt with three-quarter sleeves. Her dark brown hair was loose and shining, tumbling down her back, and she was wearing no makeup at all. She was simply the most beautiful, breathtaking thing he’d ever seen, and he stared at her, wondering if he was just imagining her.
Maggie saw Joe across the room and she closed her eyes for a second. He was in a suit, and she’d always found him sexiest when he wore one. Yeah, the man looked great in jeans and tight t-shirts; God, he even made his chef’s whites look hot as hell. But Joe in a suit was a whole other breed of animal: tough, in control, uncompromising.
She was suddenly totally terrified of being here. If he’d been in jeans, she’d have been able to handle this whole thing, she thought. But Joe in a suit, looking so gorgeous and commanding? She wasn’t so sure anymore.
They stared at each other. Joe put his cell back in his jacket pocket and walked over to Maggie. She steeled herself and walked down the steps to meet him.
“Maggie,” he said in that husky voice. “You’re here.”
“I am,” she said, trying to stay calm. “I was wondering if we could talk.”
“Yeah, of course.” He glanced around at the workmen. “The kitchen is the quietest place.”
“OK.”
He led her through the massive space and despite herself, she looked around with curiosity. Her friend Mia Ferris had told her that the budget for Joe’s new restaurant was in the tens of millions, and now she believed it. The space was huge, the ceilings were high and the entire roof was glass. She looked up at the clear blue May sky above and took a deep breath.
He opened the kitchen door for her and she entered. It was the largest kitchen she’d ever seen, and again she saw where the money must have gone. It did indeed appear that Joe wasn’t hurting for investment on this project, and she stiffened her resolve in asking for a high fee.
OK, Maggie. This is for Mom. Get as much cold, hard cash as you can out of this cheating asshole, and get the hell out of here and get to work.
She turned to see Joe leaning against one of the stainless-steel counters, examining her. His arms were crossed loosely across his large upper body and despite herself, she remembered what it had been like to have those arms around her. She looked away.
“So.” Joe was fighting to stay calm. “What did you want to talk about?”
Those amazing green eyes met his. They were cool and distant, and he ached when he remembered how they used to look at him. There was a time when they’d sparkled at him in laughter, and when he’d seen animal lust and hunger in them, and when they’d gazed up at him, warm and sated, from his bed. This cold appraisal hurt him, but he hid it well.
Your fault, man. You made her look at you like a stranger.
Marysol James 