Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection

by Pandora Spocks

  “Hey Mags, are you okay?” He tenderly helped her sit up, lifting her chin to look in her eyes. Maggie could only cough.

  He realized her blouse was torn, exposing her navy lace bra, and immediately took off his suit coat and wrapped it around her. “Can you stand?” Maggie nodded. “Karen, take her to my office. No one, I mean no one, is to go in there until I come back,” he said.

  “Got it,” Karen said. “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you out of here,” she murmured to Maggie. She wrapped an arm around the shaken young woman and supported her as they left the library.

  Michael turned to John and Ellen, speaking in an impossibly calm voice. “Let me tell you how this is going to go. You two will resign, effective immediately. I already have the paperwork drawn up. All you have to do is sign. You will leave the building and never return.”

  John smirked at Michael. “What makes you think we’re going to sign anything? You have no idea what happened here. Your girl attacked me. Ellen can tell you.” He looked at Ellen, who seemed less sure of herself.

  “I know exactly what happened here. It’s all recorded on security video. Smile for the cameras, John.” He pointed to the corner.

  John looked momentarily surprised. Then he turned to Michael. “You recorded us without our knowledge? You know that’s not admissible in court.”

  “I have you on video threatening to rape your colleague. Do you think your wife will care if it’s admissible in court?” He addressed the security guards. “Keep them here. I’ll be right back.”

  Michael returned to his office to collect the waiting resignations from the Hermes tray on his desk. Glancing around he saw Maggie on the couch, knees drawn up to her chin, his suit coat wrapped around her like a blanket. She was turned toward the window. Karen was kneeling beside the couch speaking to her softly. She met his eyes and shrugged helplessly. “Hang on a second,” he told her with a grim smile.

  Back in the library, he placed the resignations on the table. Ellen and John signed without comment. He gave further instructions to security. “They can return to their offices and remove their personal belongings only. They should not touch the computers. Give them five minutes and escort them out of the building.”

  “Yes, Mr. Rannigan. Let’s move,” the guard said to John.

  The other guard gently took Ellen by the upper arm. “Michael,” she began. He turned on his heel and returned to his office, closing the door behind him.

  Karen met him at the door. “I don’t know what to do,” she said worriedly. “Maggie hasn’t said anything since we left the library.”

  “I’ll try to talk to her. You go call the police,” Michael answered.

  “No. No police.” Maggie’s voice was hoarse but firm. Michael frowned slightly, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “No police,” she repeated, her gaze intense.

  Michael nodded slowly. “No police,” he agreed.

  “But Michael,” Karen protested.

  He shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to her.” He looked at his watch. “It’s close enough to quitting time. Why don’t you tell everyone they can knock off now? You can go on, too. Have a good holiday.”

  “I don’t know,” she said doubtfully.

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “It’ll be okay. Besides, we should get everybody out of here.” He tilted his head in Maggie’s direction.

  Karen nodded, understanding his meaning. “Alright then.” She went to Maggie and hugged her gently. “You have a happy Thanksgiving, hon. Everything’s going to be alright.” As she went out the door, “See you Monday, Michael.”

  “Thanks for everything, Karen. Happy Thanksgiving.” He closed the door behind her, but not before he noticed the curious stares of the remaining 50th floor inhabitants. Karen will handle them. Now about Maggie...

  Except for having turned her head to speak, Maggie was in the same position in which she’d been when he’d come to get the resignations for John and Ellen. She was huddled at the end of the couch, her knees pulled up under her chin, his coat wrapped around her like a comforter.

  Michael sank onto the coffee table directly across from her. “So how ya doin’, Mags?” he asked gently. She slowly turned to face him and he could see the angry purple marks on her neck growing more visible by the moment. “Are you okay?”

  A single tear rolled down her right cheek and she swiped at it with her shoulder. “I was scared,” she said simply.

  Michael moved beside her on the couch and gently put his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He murmured soothing words as she wept almost silently for a few minutes.

  Then she sat up, clearing her throat. “I’m sorry,” she said, swiping at her face with the backs of her hands.

  He looked at her incredulously. “Sorry for what?”

  Maggie shrugged. “For being all...I don’t know...freaked out,” she fumbled.

  “You were just assaulted by a co-worker. You should get checked over by a doctor. We need to file a police report,” he said.

  She shook her head vehemently. “No. No doctor. And I don’t want to call the police.”

  “Why the hell not?” Michael asked.

  “Because...I don’t,” she replied. “I just...I mean they’re going away, right? John and Ellen? They’ll never be back?”

  “True, but...”

  “I’m supposed to be at the airport in half an hour. I don’t want to miss this trip. And I don’t want to have to explain all...” she waved her hand, “this. My suitcase is in my office. I can just change my clothes and be on my way.”

  Michael considered her words, then sighed. “Alright, Mags. We’ll play it your way. But I’m not happy about it.” He gave her a serious look. “I’m worried about you.”

  Chapter 28

  Thanksgiving at Casey’s new house was a busy, cheerful affair. John and Casey had bought the three bedroom, two bath house a few months earlier and had finished furnishing it just in time for the holiday. She and John had invited Maggie and Ben, Kevin, and Des and Jacob to stay for the weekend.

  Sleeping arrangements had been studiously organized. Obviously Des and Jacob were in the guest bedroom. Ben and Kevin shared the living room, one on the sofa and one on the floor. Maggie was given an air mattress on the floor of the home office, but she didn’t mind. She was grateful that she had a private space; anyone seeing her neck would undoubtedly require information she didn’t feel like giving.

  Both Casey’s and John’s parents were invited for Thanksgiving dinner. Early that morning, Maggie heard Casey moving around in the kitchen and she smiled to herself. She knew her friend well enough to know she’d want this day to go perfectly. Maggie got up too, happy to pitch in with preparations. She carefully dressed, making sure the scarf she wore completely covered the angry marks John had left on her neck.

  The day before, when she’d left the office, Michael had insisted that she ride to the airport in the car from his service. His flight to the Bahamas would be later in the evening so his car was available.

  When Ben arrived at the airport, he’d had been too preoccupied with his own concerns to notice Maggie’s reticence. He’d prattled about work and his new boyfriend, who he still refused to name, throughout the entire flight.

  The Thanksgiving meal was a huge success. The turkey was perfectly done, and the stuffing made from an old family recipe was delicious, as were the yams, green beans, and cranberry sauce. Casey had made certain that the dining room had been tastefully furnished and decorated for the holiday and dinner was enjoyable, everyone talking about their experiences now that they were out in the real world.

  Snow began falling in late afternoon and by dark the ground was covered with a beautiful white blanket. After dinner, the men adjourned to John’s man cave. The women discussed Casey’s wedding plans as she showed them fabric swatches and photos of cakes, flowers, and wedding dresses. After John’s and Casey’s parents left, the women joined the men downstairs for a pool tournament.

 
Maggie, however, begged off. “I have a little headache. I think I’ll just go to bed,” she said. Alone in the office, she unwrapped her neck and checked it using a mirror from her purse. It really was ghastly.

  She put away the mirror and checked her phone. A notification indicated that she had a Snapchat message from Michael.

  “Hey, Mags,” he smiled ruefully into the camera. “I don’t want to interrupt your holiday. I was just thinking about you and hoping you’re okay.”

  Maggie smiled in spite of herself. He was thinking about me. She held her phone in front of her. “Hey back, Michael. You aren’t interrupting. I’m doing alright. You must be having fun in the Bahamas. Is it warm? We have snow here.”

  Moments later Michael replied. “It’s in the 80s in the Bahamas. Are you having fun? How’s your neck?”

  In the 80s. Maggie rolled her eyes. I’ve got to get my passport. She pressed record again. “Temps in the 80s sounds amazing. Send pictures of the water. My neck is okay, I guess.” She held the camera so that her neck showed in all its bruised glory. “I’ve been keeping it covered with scarves.”

  Michael grimaced. Maggie’s neck looked bad, all black and blue and purple. “Scarves and turtlenecks seem the way to go,” he said into the camera. “Take an extra day, Mags. We don’t have to be in court until Wednesday. Come back on Tuesday, you’ll have plenty of time to get up to speed.”

  She considered this. “I don’t know, Michael. There’s so much to do,” she said. “You know, again, it would be easier to have this conversation over the phone.” She arched one eyebrow.

  On video, Michael laughed. “But I like doing it this way. You’re the only account I follow.” He smiled and nodded. “Take an extra day on Monday. Rest up and feel better. We’ll manage without you for a day.” Maggie reluctantly agreed and they said their goodnights.

  * * *

  Michael hadn’t actually lied to her. It was in the 80s in the Bahamas. He just happened to be in Manhattan. After he’d sent Maggie to the airport, he’d called Gretchen and cancelled. She’d been none too pleased, but he’d explained that there was an emergency at work that couldn’t wait.

  He’d called Murph and asked about bringing a new lawyer up from downstairs to replace Maggie. He needed someone else to do the grunt work. Maggie was moving up. He’d arranged for the designer who’d decorated his apartment to meet him at the office bright and early on Friday. John Hemphill’s office was going to be completely redone and would be Maggie’s new office. Putting her off until Tuesday would ensure that everything would be ready when she returned.

  Saturday morning, Michael carefully packed up Maggie’s things and left the boxes on his conference table until her office was ready. By that afternoon the office renovation was well under way, the walls freshly painted a pale lavender, the herringbone hardwood floor nearly completed. Furniture had been ordered and was guaranteed to arrive the first thing Monday morning. Michael interviewed Josh Miller from downstairs and decided he’d be right for the job of replacing Maggie.

  Michael leaned back in his chair and propped his feet on the desk as he listened to the sound of the power saw cutting floor boards down the hall. She’s going to be happy when she gets back. He smiled a satisfied smile.

  Chapter 29

  Maggie was happy to wake up in her own bed Monday morning. She was also glad that Michael had insisted that she take the extra day. Truthfully she was tired, and she was sick of having to cover up so carefully. She studied her neck in the bathroom mirror. The bruises had faded from deep purple to a pale yellow-green. Another couple of turtleneck days should do it.

  Maggie cleaned her immaculate kitchen, reorganized her shoes, and paid a few bills, but when she looked at the clock, only forty-five minutes had passed. She sighed and sank onto the couch, clicking on the television. A flip through the channels revealed talk-fests and game shows. I’m bored out of my mind. Maybe I’ll just go in and check email and that kind of thing. I probably won’t even see anyone.

  It was noon when Maggie exited the elevator on the 50th floor. She’d dressed in a purple turtleneck and charcoal slacks, a scarf with a purple paisley design accenting her neck. Karen wasn’t at her desk. Probably at lunch, Maggie thought, and she went directly to her office.

  Opening the door, she started to toss her bag on the desk when she realized someone was sitting there. Her arm stopped mid-swing, her eyes wide, and she looked back at the door, frowning. “May I help you?” she asked.

  The guy was about her age with brown hair and eyes. He looked startled. “Um, no, thanks. I’m okay for now.”

  Maggie raised an eyebrow. “You’re in my office.”

  “Oh, you must be Maggie,” he said. “Mr. Rannigan said you wouldn’t be in until tomorrow.”

  “And yet, here I stand today,” Maggie replied in an irritated tone. She turned and marched down the hall to Michael’s office. At his closed door she hesitated. He might be with a client, she considered. Fuck that! Some dude is in my office.

  She threw open the door with enough force to swing all the way open and it crashed into the wall behind it.

  Michael, seated at his desk and concentrating on his computer, jumped.

  “What the fuck, Michael?!” Maggie demanded.

  “And it’s nice to see you, too, Mags,” he replied with a grin. “Welcome back. We didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.” He met her at the door and ushered her into the reception area.

  “I can tell you didn’t expect me until tomorrow. I didn’t expect some guy to be in my office today,” Maggie ranted.

  Michael put up both hands in defense. “Calm down, Mags, everything’s okay.”

  Maggie shook her finger in his face. “Don’t you tell me to motherfucking calm down! If you were going to fire me...”

  “Fire you?” he frowned.

  “You could at least have done it on Wednesday instead of waiting until I come in and find my office occupied by some...”

  Michael continued to guide her down the hall. “That’s Josh, we just brought him up from downstairs,” he explained calmly.

  “I don’t care where he came from, he can just take his skinny little ass right back...”

  “Mags...”

  “Because as far as I know I still have a contract...”

  “Maggie...”

  “You can’t just push me out, I’ve worked way too hard...”

  “Mary Margaret! Stop talking,” Michael interrupted. They’d stopped in front of the door to what used to be John Hemphill’s office. He pushed it open. “This is your new office.”

  Maggie stopped mid-sentence. She was looking into the most beautiful room she’d ever seen. It was a confection of lavender and cream and eggplant. On the far side of the room next to the floor to ceiling windows, there was a silver chandelier over a small ecru French desk. On the desk was a white and purple orchid in a shallow lavender bowl. Purple drapes and cream sheers framed the wall of glass. Nearer the door there was a seating area with a cream sofa accented with lavender and purple pillows fronted by a glass coffee table. On the other side of the room was a small glass conference table and four purple upholstered chairs. The new pale hardwood floor was arranged in a herringbone pattern.

  “It looks like an office in Paris,” Maggie breathed. She crossed the room to examine a pair of large framed photographs. Gasping, she looked back at Michael.

  He smiled at her. “Florence,” he said. “This is why I wanted you to wait until tomorrow. The furniture was delivered this morning. We literally just got it finished.”

  Maggie’s eyes were wide. “I don’t understand,” she said.

  “Let’s go to lunch. We’ll talk about everything,” Michael said.

  * * *

  They were seated at Sant Ambroeus on Madison. Maggie was too perplexed to pay attention to the menu. Michael ordered for both of them. He sipped his water. “With John and Ellen gone, I need someone I can trust to step in and fill that gap.” He regarded her seriously. “I tru
st you, Mags. You work hard, you’re smart, you’re honest, you’ve been bold enough to correct me from the beginning.” Maggie smiled, recalling her interview. “So we brought in Josh. He’s the new you. He’s in charge of coffee and lunch from now on. I need you to be my right hand.”

  Maggie leaned back in her chair, considering his words. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes. We’re wasting you on the grunt work.” He reached into his case on the floor beside his chair. “I have a new contract for you.” Michael passed it to her and watched as Maggie skimmed it.

  Her eyes widened and she looked up. “Are you serious?”

  “Yup,” he nodded.

  “But,” she began, shaking her head, “that’s a $100,000 raise. That’s a typo, right?”

  “No typo,” he said. “You’ll be earning it.”

  Maggie couldn’t stop the smile. This would mean that she could repay her loans in just a few years if she continued to live frugally. Then a jarring thought stopped her cold. “You’re afraid I’m going to sue you.”

  Michael shook his head. “You don’t need to sue. I’ll give you anything you want.”

  Maggie handed him the contract. “I don’t want anything. I especially don’t want a raise and a promotion. Not like this.”

  “Mags...I need you. I know I should have learned my lesson with John and Ellen. I should do my own research. But I hate that shit. You’re good at it, never miss a thing. And I trust you. That’s a big deal.”

  He looked at her imploringly. “Please accept the position. If it makes you feel better, John was making three times that amount.” Maggie’s eyes widened. “Yeah. And he was knifing me in the back. Please, Mags.” Maggie sighed as he handed her the contract again.

  “You’re moving me past people who’ve been there longer than I have,” she worried. “Stan, for instance. And Dan. What are people going to think?”

  “I don’t give a fuck what people think. And Stan has his own clients. He doesn’t need to work with me. I’m bringing Dan along, putting him in Ellen’s office. Can you work with him?”