Everyone made themselves at home, pouring their own drinks, finding a comfortable place to perch. They began digging into the enormous gift assortment from Michael, nibbling on cheese and crackers and other tiny treats. John and Kevin found football on television.
“So where’s Ben?” Casey asked.
Maggie shrugged. “He’s probably waiting to make a grand entrance.” They both laughed. Fifteen minutes later, Maggie’s door buzzed. “This had better be Ben,” she said into the intercom.
“You know it, bitches. Let us in,” Ben laughed.
Maggie buzzed him in and opened her front door, eager to finally meet Ben’s mysterious boyfriend. Ben arrived on the second floor landing alone, grinning ear to ear.
“And? The suspense is killing me,” she said, shaking her hands in frustration. A tall handsome African-American man joined Ben.
Maggie’s mouth dropped open. “Get! Outta! Town!” she shrieked as she recognized Nate Washington from downstairs at Murphy, Rannigan. “Tall, dark, and handsome indeed!” She hugged them both. “I don’t understand. I had no idea. When did you... How did you...”
“Go sit down before your hurt yourself, Flynn,” Ben said. “We met that day at Doc Watson’s. I didn’t want you to know until I knew whether or not it would last.”
“He insisted that we keep you in the dark,” Nate said. “I’d have told you a long time ago. I’m in love with this guy.”
Maggie smiled, shaking her head. “Never in a million years...I’m so happy for you both. You’re two of my favorite people in the entire world.” They entered the apartment to another round of introductions. Ben contributed a huge garden salad while Nate brought his mother’s famous red beans and rice.
“Maggie, is the turkey ready?” Casey asked.
Maggie checked the clock and shook her head. “No way, it has at least another hour, then it has to rest. We can put in the beans and the stuffing when it comes out. Nate, how do we reheat the red beans and rice?”
As Nate answered Maggie’s question, Ben wandered over to the window. The buzzer rang again. Ben glanced at Maggie in the kitchen. “Somebody’s buzzing downstairs, Flynn.”
Casey was helping Maggie turn the turkey around in the oven. “Well can you please buzz them in? I’m a little busy here.”
Ben pressed the buzzer but made no move to open the apartment door. About a minute later there was a knock. The others were engrossed in the football game. Ben stayed put. “Somebody’s at the door, Flynn.”
“Oh for God’s sake, I’ll just drop everything and get it myself,” said Maggie, tossing down pot holders in exasperation.
Maggie flung open the door to find Michael standing in the hallway. He grinned sheepishly. “Merry Christmas, Mags.”
She blinked, confused. “Michael, I...I mean, Merry Christmas. But what...Shouldn’t you be in St. Bart’s?”
“I got snowed in. My flight was cancelled. I have a charter later on, but I thought I’d stop by here. Do you have room for another orphan?”
A slow smile spread across her face. “Of course, there’s always room. Come on in.”
Maggie turned to find that everyone in the apartment was watching the two of them. “Everyone, this is Michael. Michael, everyone.”
“Hello, Merry Christmas,” he greeted the group. To Maggie, “I brought wine. I wasn’t sure...”
“Wine is perfect, thanks,” she told him. Waving toward the kitchen she said, “Help yourself to something to drink. We’ve been enjoying the munchies out of your gift basket. Dinner will probably be another hour or so.” She smiled at him. “I’m so glad you’re here. Shocked, but glad.”
After he dropped his coat and his suitcase in Maggie’s bedroom with the other coats, Michael got a beer for himself and settled in the living room, striking up a conversation with the guys watching football. Casey sidled up to Maggie in the kitchen. “You didn’t tell me Mr. Wonderful was coming.”
“I didn’t know Michael was coming. He’s supposed to be in the Caribbean. With someone, you understand, nobody goes to the Caribbean alone.”
“Maybe. But he’s here now.”
Michael relaxed on the couch and looked around appreciatively at all the activity. Maggie and Casey were in the kitchen along with a couple he didn’t know. There was an older woman chatting with Nate from the firm. Several others were watching football. Everyone seemed happy and at home.
“This is nice,” he commented to Ben. “It feels like a scene from Rent.”
Ben smirked. “Viva la vie Boheme!” he raised his beer.
Michael chuckled and raised his beer as well. “La vie Boheme.”
Dinner was served on three tables pushed together in the middle of the living room. Plates were filled buffet-style in the kitchen. Ben insisted that Maggie toast before they ate.
She raised her glass of wine. “I feel like the luckiest girl. I’m here celebrating the holiday with my most favorite people in the entire world. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Merry Christmas!”
After everyone ate as much as they could, the guys agreed to do all the clean-up. Maggie supervised returning the tables to their proper places then sank onto the sofa, resting her feet on the coffee table.
“What about the dessert, Flynn?” Ben asked when the leftovers were packed up.
“Let’s be informal. Grab some if you want some. I want to do presents,” Maggie said. Michael brought her a fresh glass of wine. She looked up at him, grinning in appreciation, and patted the space beside her.
“I’ll sit on the floor, I don’t mind,” he said, sliding to a spot beside her feet.
“Now the way this works is, everyone takes a number. We go in order starting at 1. Number 1 picks first. Number 2 can pick a new present or steal from Number 1. Everybody got it?” Ben asked. Maggie watched in amusement as some played shyly while others were cut-throat.
“What’s this?” Michael asked quietly. She looked down to see him holding an ornament from the tree. It was a small red glass ball held by a green paper cone. Her name was spelled out in glitter.
“I think I was about six when I made that,” she smiled. “The Christmas ornaments were some of the few things I took from my dad’s house.”
He grinned. “I like it.”
When the gifts were over, Maggie had a new hand-crocheted toilet-roll cover. Michael had a $10 gift card to Starbucks. “Guess somebody didn’t get the memo,” he quipped so that only Maggie heard, and she giggled softly.
He winked and leaned close. “Mags, I should be making my way to the airport.”
“Okay,” Maggie sighed. “I’ll walk you out.” She got her coat and hat while he said his goodbyes. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Casey as they headed out of the apartment. They walked down the stairs without chatting.
Once out on the sidewalk, Michael turned and faced her. “I had a great time, Mags. Thanks for inviting me.” He glanced up. “We have an audience, by the way.” He waved at the crowd gathered in Maggie’s front window.
She looked up at them, scowling. “Come on,” she said, turning right and heading down the sidewalk. She stopped just around the corner.
Michael smiled. “Thanks. I just wanted to say goodbye privately. I brought you a gift but I didn’t want to give it to you in there.” He pulled a small flat box from his pocket. It was light blue, tied with a white ribbon.
Maggie’s eyes widened. “Sean Michael Rannigan, you did not!”
“How did you know the S stands for Sean?
She shrugged. “Everyone knows it’s Sean. I can’t believe you went to Tiffany...” She stopped and looked up at him, smiling sadly. “This wasn’t for me. This is supposed to be for someone else.”
“No, Mags, this is for you,” he said earnestly. “I mean, to be honest, I went there yesterday looking for something for Jana.”
“What, Toys R Us and GapKids were closed?” Maggie quipped.
“Ah-hah-hah, you’re very funny. I found a little trinket to give to Jana, but
then I turned and saw this. All I could think was that you should have it. It’s for you, Mags.”
Curious, Maggie slowly pulled the white ribbon and lifted the lid. In the box resting on light blue velvet was a delicate silver bracelet. It had a vintage look to it with large rectangular milky white cabochons alternating with trios of small round diamonds surrounded by platinum filigree. She looked back up at Michael, eyes wide.
“Those are moonstones,” he said proudly. “This was in the vintage case. It was made in 1915.” He gazed at the bracelet. “It’s graceful and classy, just like you.”
“I don’t know what to say, Michael. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Will you help me put it on?”
He lifted the bracelet from the box and as Maggie held out her left hand he fastened it around her wrist. She held it out and watched it catch the natural light. As she did, she noticed a tiny platinum tag hanging from the clasp. Peering closer she saw that it was engraved. To Maggie, From Michael.
“See? I told you it was for you.” She looked back up at him, eyes shining, and as she did, a gust of wind caught some stray hair, blowing it across her face. Michael gently moved the errant strands, tucking them behind her ear. Without planning it at all, he planted a tender kiss on her lips.
He moved back slightly as Maggie looked up at him, eyes shining with desire. He leaned into her again, the kiss this time all heat and passion. She brought her left hand up to cradle his right cheek, her desire matching his. When he stopped kissing her, he pulled her close, tucking her under his chin and they stood like that for a moment.
Finally, he gently set her back from him. She looked up, the sad glint once again in her eyes. After all, he was leaving her to go to someone else. “Merry Christmas, Mags.”
“Merry Christmas, Michael.”
Chapter 33
His charter from the city had taken him to Norfolk, Virginia, where he’d caught a commercial flight to St. Bart’s. He’d arrived more than a day later than he’d expected and Jana had been none too pleased that he didn’t landed in St. Bart’s until 9:00 Christmas night. She’d been there since Christmas Eve and had spent most of the day alone. At least as far as he knew. Maybe she’d hooked up with some guy before he arrived. She’d been somewhat mollified by his Christmas gift to her.
They’d enjoyed a late locally-sourced seafood dinner from room service and he’d given her the earrings. She’d thanked him, but hadn’t seemed that thrilled with them. On the other hand, her gift to him had been a blow job.
“Just what I’ve always wanted,” he’d joked.
He loved it when Jana went down on him. It was, perhaps, her one true talent. She had a way of working him with her tongue and she could take all of him without gagging. Michael watched as her blonde head bobbed over his erect cock then closed his eyes, the better to savor the moment. She gave great head, but it also meant that she stopped talking for a few minutes.
Michael could feel his release building. He put his hand on her head and pulled her off him. “I want to come on your tits, baby,” he said. She gave his cock another sensuous swipe with her tongue and, looking up at him with a seductive smile, she gripped his shaft with her right hand, sliding it slowly along his length. The sight of her huge tits bouncing up and down did the trick and he grunted as thick ropes of cum shot across her chest and between her breasts, dripping from her luscious hard pink nubs.
They spent the next morning relaxing in a cabana on the beach. In Michael’s opinion, there was no better way to spend the holidays than lazing about in a tropical paradise. He thought about all the poor schlubs still snowed in back up north. Sure, the snow had been pretty but it had wreaked havoc on everyone trying to travel.
Still, he hadn’t minded being stuck in the city on Christmas day. Spending part of the day at Maggie’s had been great. Michael smiled at the memory of Maggie’s face when she saw the bracelet. If he had to name one thing about her that intrigued him, it was that she didn’t play emotional games. If she felt something, it showed clearly, at least to him as an experienced observer of people.
“What’s so funny?” Jana interrupted his thoughts.
“What? Oh, I was thinking about your face when you saw your earrings,” he said, hedging his private thoughts. He pictured the pair of square cushion-cut amethyst earrings from Tiffany. They hadn’t been a third of the cost of Maggie’s bracelet, something Jana didn’t need to know.
For now, what he wanted was to enjoy his chaise on the beach with a view of the crystal-blue Caribbean water and the feeling of the sun on his skin. And the privacy of his thoughts. Why do women have to talk all the time?
* * *
Michael sported a tan when he returned to the office the following week and hit the ground running. The New Year in the offices of Murphy, Rannigan, and Metheny was busy with new clients and cases. They had two court cases in the first three weeks. The team picked up where they left off before the holidays, prepping for various cases, conducting interviews and depositions, going over documentation, and considering jury profiles.
If Maggie was Michael’s right hand, Dan was his left. Together, the trio made an effective team. Sometimes Maggie worried about Michael depending on them so much, but she knew that at least they were trustworthy, unlike the recently departed John Hemphill and Ellen Standifer.
Another change was that the Friday after-work gathering at Doc Watson’s became standard, whether or not there was a court victory. The dark cloud had lifted and everyone found that they enjoyed getting together for pints before they all went their separate ways for the weekend.
Most of the time, Michael had his dates meet him at the pub. It saved him from having to hurry off to pick up a date and left him time to socialize with his team from the office. He genuinely liked hanging out with his co-workers in a more casual setting.
He found that this was especially true of Maggie. At work she was diligent and focused. Outside of work, she was fun. He wondered if he was some kind of sadist, almost enjoying that hurt look in her eyes when his date showed up. He convinced himself that it wasn’t her pain he enjoyed, but the knowledge that she was still attracted to him.
Speaking of Maggie, had she changed her clothes? She must have, he thought, brow furrowed as he watched her across the table at Doc’s one Friday after work. Earlier today she was wearing a suit. Of course she was, she always does. Now she’s wearing jeans with a purple sequined top and a blazer. Michael blinked in thought.
He glanced around the table as tales were told and jokes were made. Everyone was having a great time. Maggie caught his eye and she grinned. He sighed inwardly, glancing at his watch. Vivian would be coming by any minute now. She was a pharmaceutical sales rep. He’d met her a few weeks ago when he was out with Jana.
Why is it that everyone in pharmaceutical sales is beautiful, blonde, and has huge breasts? So they can sell more pills to doctors, of course. He grinned at his private thoughts. Vivian had replaced Veronica, who’d gotten married on New Year’s. Michael grimaced at that thought. Veronica had been a great piece of ass; he missed her tremendously.
He sipped his pint as he noticed Maggie looking across the room toward the door and his mouth formed a firm line. She’d probably spotted his date. He didn’t bother to turn around. He didn’t want to appear anxious. Maggie had, no doubt, figured out his taste in women.
Then Maggie smiled and waved. Frowning, Michael turned to look in that direction. A guy was walking toward their table, huge grin on his face. He was tall, about his own height, with sort of shaggy dark hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He was dressed in skinny blue jeans and an oatmeal colored fisherman’s sweater, dark coat folded over his arm. The guy seemed familiar but Michael couldn’t place him.
Maggie stood to greet him. “Everyone, this is Joe. Joe, everyone.” She smiled in Michael’s direction. “And you’ve met Michael.”
Son of a bitch! It’s that teacher with the law club. Michael half rose and nodded.
“Do we have time for a
quick drink?” Maggie asked the new arrival.
Joe nodded. “Sure, we’re not in a rush.”
Joe pulled up a seat next to Maggie and ordered a pint. “Michael spoke at Kennedy High School a few weeks ago. Joe is a teacher there and he runs a pre-law club,” Maggie told the group by way of introduction.
“I thought you didn’t do those kinds of speaking engagements,” Stan commented.
“Yeah, well,” Michael responded, “Mags set it up. It seemed like a good thing to do.” He aimed for nonchalance, but the truth was, he was annoyed.
What the hell is this guy doing here? Maggie was grinning like a school girl at Joe. Was this some kind of ‘turnabout is fair play’ kind of thing? Because if it was, he wasn’t biting. She could do as she pleased. Why should he care? Except that he did.
He watched as over their pints, Maggie and the teacher chatted with each other and everyone else at the table. Frowning, he checked his watch again. Where was Vivian, anyway?
Minutes later he heard a breathless voice in his ear. “Finally! I’m sorry to be late. I gave the driver the wrong address.” Vivian was sultry in a Bohemian mini-dress with a plunging v-neckline. Michael felt better immediately. He turned to almost apologetically introduce her to the others when he realized that they were all engrossed in conversation with Maggie and Joe.
“Alright, team. Happy weekend. Vivian and I have to run,” Michael said, a little louder than necessary.
Maggie looked up and smiled. “Have a great weekend, Michael. See you Monday.”
He’d swear that she looked a little smug. He guided Vivian out into the night, the sound of laughter ringing in his ears.
Chapter 34
One afternoon in late January, Maggie’s office phone rang. “Maggie Flynn,” she answered.
Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection Page 15
