There had been a blur of activity. Rosalie made the necessary calls to the necessary parties. Attendants from the funeral home came and discreetly ushered his body away. Maggie had been disconsolate. Bobby had held her until she’d run out of tears.
By the time they left to pick up Savannah from school, the apartment had been restored to normal, the medical equipment packed up and hauled away. Maggie had sensed the emptiness of the place and insisted that they pack up their things and return to her apartment.
She forced a smile when Savannah came running up to the two of them in front of the school. “Hey there, June bug,” Bobby said. “How was your day?” Savannah had prattled on about school and the painting she’d done in art class.
Bobby and Maggie had decided they would take Savannah walking in the park while they told her about Michael. The little girl loved to feed the squirrels. They found an empty bench near a large stand of oak trees and they sat as Maggie fished a pack of peanuts out of her purse. “Here you go, sweetie.”
“Thank you, Mommy,” Savannah said as she took the nuts and wandered towards the trees. A pair of squirrels who were accustomed to being fed scampered down a nearby tree and cautiously retrieved nuts the little girl tossed their way.
Bobby put his arm around Maggie’s shoulders and hugged her to himself, lightly pressing his lips to her temple and sighing. “Savannah, we have some sad news.” He continued to hold Maggie as he looked toward his daughter. “Baby, Mr. Michael died today.”
“I know,” she responded cheerfully, her back to both of them.
“What do you mean, you know?”
“He told me,” she answered.
Maggie and Bobby turned to look at each other, frowning. “He told you?”
“Yeah.” She turned and walked back to them. “I was painting in art and he came and said goodbye. He said he had to go and that I shouldn’t be sad. He said Mommy is sad.” She turned her blue eyes toward Maggie. “Are you sad, Mommy?”
Large tears rolled down Maggie’s face. She cleared her throat and nodded. “I am sad, sweetie. Mr. Michael was my friend and I’m going to miss him.”
Savannah smiled and took Maggie’s hand. “Mr. Michael said don’t be sad because now he isn’t sick anymore.”
Maggie moved a shaky hand to her lips while Bobby hugged her to his side. “You’re right, June bug, he isn’t sick anymore.” He smiled proudly at his daughter.
Later that night, back in the tiny apartment with Savannah tucked away in her card table tent, they’d discussed the little girl’s words. “Do you suppose she really saw him?” Maggie had asked, gazing for maybe the hundredth time at the child’s painting from school that looked remarkably like Michael.
Bobby had shrugged. “I don’t know. I imagine stranger things have happened.”
Maggie’s thoughts returned to the present as Bobby once again hugged her to his side. He’d been a rock for her in these last few days. She lightly rested her head against his shoulder and glanced around at the mourners.
Several of Michael’s lovers had come. Maggie recognized Vivian and a couple of the others from Doc Watson’s. Jana was there with a large muscular guy Maggie supposed was her latest boyfriend. Veronica stood a bit apart from the gathering, her eyes hidden behind huge designer sunglasses. Maggie couldn’t bear to look at the woman after the way she’d abandoned Michael at the hospital.
Maggie was grateful for the comforting presence of Rance and Jason. Even Casey and John had come into town and she blinked at them appreciatively as they stood with Ben and Nate.
Rosalie had wrapped Maggie and Bobby in her huge embrace before standing with the other nurses who’d seen to Michael in those last days. Even Luther and Betsy were there, each of them hugging her to themselves as they murmured their condolences.
When the simple graveside service was over, Bobby led Maggie and Savannah back toward the black Range Rover. A tall man made his way toward the trio.
“Maggie?”
She turned to see Brian Murphy. “Oh my gosh, Brian! I didn’t see you.” Maggie reached up and hugged him.
Turning, she made the introductions. “Bobby, this is Brian Murphy, one of the founding partners of Murphy, Rannigan. Brian, this is my fiancé, Bobby Beaulieu.”
“Michael said you were engaged,” Brian said. The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries.
“Brian, I’m so glad you came. Michael would have been happy to know that you were here,” Maggie said. “He told you about the engagement? He never mentioned that you and he had spoken.”
Brian smiled kindly. “He came to see me a few months ago. He wanted help settling his affairs.”
“It’s so odd that he didn’t say anything,” Maggie mused.
“Well, the truth is, Michael named you executor of his estate. I was hoping you could stop by my office sometime next week. There are a lot of things we should go over.”
Maggie sighed deeply and Bobby instinctively put his arm around her. “I suppose we can do that.” She looked up at Bobby.
He nodded. “Sure. We can come by early next week.”
Brian hugged Maggie again and shook hands with Bobby. “Okay, Maggie, I’ll see you then. It was nice meeting you, Bobby.”
* * *
Late that night back at the tiny apartment in the east Village, Bobby checked on Savannah in her makeshift tent before he made his way to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He pulled his grey t-shirt over his head and tossed it onto a chair next to the bed.
Maggie was in the bathroom, fresh out of the shower and dressed in a black tank top and pale pink panties. She was brushing her hair when he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to plant kisses along her neck while his hands roamed up to fondle her breasts. He pressed his jeans-clad erection against her ass.
They hadn’t made love since Michael had died, and he didn’t want to press the issue. He knew she mourned Michael deeply. But Maggie in those silky pink panties was irresistible. She turned and faced him, brushing his lips with hers before placing her hands on his chest and shoving him backwards. Bobby stepped back and looked at her in confusion. “What’s wrong, cher?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she answered, pushing him again. Her eyes flashed with heat and desire. He took her arms in his hands and she pulled away sharply, pushing him a third time.
He shook his head. “What do you want, Maggie?”
“I want you to dominate me,” she quietly challenged, a defiant glint flashing in her green eyes.
Bobby felt his cock responding with renewed fervor. He reached for her again, this time not allowing her to pull free as he pushed her up against the wall, crushing her lips with his own. He slid his knee between her thighs and used the weight of his body to keep her pressed against the wall. With one hand he pushed her arms up over her head while he used the other to rip her panties, tossing the shreds to the floor.
He used his knee to force her legs further apart and unzipped his jeans to release his raging erection, spearing her sex with one swift stroke. “Is this what you need?” he growled as he pounded into her again and again.
“Oh, God, yes,” she breathed, feeling the wave of her release begin to pour over her. Bobby continued to pump the full length of his cock into her drenched core until they both came with stifled groans, and they stayed pressed against the wall gasping as their breathing began to return to normal.
Maggie leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. Bobby released her arms, and she gripped his muscular shoulders, wrapping her legs around his waist. He held her tightly as he walked them into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed, his cock still buried deep inside her.
He held himself over her, gazing down into her troubled green eyes. She smiled up at him sadly. “I just...” she closed her eyes. “I just needed to feel something other than grief.”
Bobby slowly withdrew nearly the full length of himself, then slowly pushed back in, keeping his eyes on hers. “I love you,
cher, love you so damn much.”
“I love you, Bobby,” she whispered as she moved her hips in rhythm with his gentle thrusts. They made love again, slowly, gently, deliberately, guiding each other over the edge of their pleasure.
Later, Bobby held Maggie in his arms, her head nestled on his shoulder as she slept peacefully. Not for the first time, he marveled at the fact that he’d found contentment he hadn’t thought existed.
Chapter 30
Brian smiled warmly as he welcomed Maggie and Bobby into his office. “I’m happy to have you here,” he said, “I only wish it were under different circumstances.”
Maggie nodded mutely as she took in her surroundings. The law offices of Brian Murphy & Associates occupied a converted three story building on W. 79th. The building had once been residential. The outer walls were exposed brick, and Maggie found that along with wood accents and details, everything worked together to create a comfortable, relaxed feel. Brian himself was casually dressed in khaki slacks and a white button-down shirt topped by a forest green V-neck cardigan. “This is a nice place,” she murmured thoughtfully.
Brian gave her a curious look and smiled again. “Well, it’s not Murphy, Rannigan, but I think I actually like it better. We don’t stand on formality around here. We’re a small firm, and we like to think of ourselves as the friendly neighborhood lawyers. You know, when the average guy needs legal help, we’re the ones to call.”
Maggie smiled wanly and clutched Bobby’s hand. Brian noticed her apprehension and waved them toward the small oak conference table at the opposite end of the room. “Please, sit, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you some coffee? Water? Anything?”
Bobby and Maggie shook their heads as they sank into a pair of brown leather club chairs at one side of the table. Brian sat across from them with his laptop and a large file of documents in front of him.
“Okay, let’s get started.” He peered up at Maggie. “Like I told you at the funeral, Michael named you executor of his estate. It shouldn’t be too much of a burden, though, because he was very specific about the distribution of his assets.” Brian paused for a moment. “Michael was a very wealthy man. He earned a great deal of money but he also invested shrewdly. Now, I have a break-down of how he wanted everything disbursed, but...” he indicated the sheaf of papers on the table, “well, he wanted to tell you himself.”
Maggie blinked uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand.” She felt the knot in her stomach tighten.
“Michael left a video message. I’m meant to play it now.” Brian watched Maggie’s face carefully.
She glanced to Bobby who smiled reassuringly. “He told me he made a video. While we were on our trip to Texas. He said that there were a few things he wanted to tell you.”
“Well, why didn’t he tell me before? Why make me have to go through watching a video after the fact?” Maggie shook her head. “What the fuck?” she murmured.
Brian breathed out sharply. “So, I’ll just play it now.” He clicked his computer and Michael’s image filled the blank wall at the end of the table. He looked healthier, his hair was short, but his color was good and his face was fuller than when she’d last seen him.
“When was this made?” Maggie’s voice was tight.
“The video was done in late December, between Christmas and New Year’s,” Brian answered.
“We were busy moving you into my place,” she mused quietly, grasping Bobby’s hand.
On video, Michael smiled wryly. “Howdy, Mags. If you’re seeing this then I guess I’ve gone the way of all men. I look pretty good for a dead guy, don’t you think?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Maggie muttered.
Video Michael looked around himself. He was seated on his sofa and the view behind him showed the dining room of his apartment. He looked back at the camera. “This kind of reminds me of those times we talked on Snapchat instead of on the phone.” He grinned mischievously. “Good times!”
Maggie shook her head and suppressed a smile.
“So, Mags, and Beau, I hope Beau’s there too,” he continued, “I need to tell you how I want my estate handled. Murph has all the paperwork, but I wanted to tell you myself. First of all, I want to leave a million dollars to cancer research and I want it in honor of Luther Robinson...”
“Who’s Luther Robinson?” Bobby wondered.
“Michael met him at chemotherapy. He and his wife are really nice people,” Maggie answered. “They were at the funeral.”
“And I want to leave a million to Make a Wish in honor of you, Beau. What you do for sick kids...it’s damn heroic.” Michael grinned wryly at the camera. “I’m not the asshole everybody thinks,” he chuckled. Maggie shook her head and grinned in spite of herself.
“That’s really nice,” Bobby murmured.
“Well, I have been an asshole.” Michael looked down pensively. “I haven’t been able to get your words out of my head, Mags. The need for redemption you talked about. I figure, if I’ve been a shit in life, I should try to make a difference in my death.” He looked back up.
“So, anyway, I’ve had Murph set up a scholarship fund for law students at NYU and I’d like you to help administrate that, Mags. I remember how you graduated with a mountain of student loan debt...”
She sighed. “That’s the truth.”
“And I’d like for you to find deserving kids who could use a hand up. Murph has the details, I won’t bore you with all that now.”
Maggie smiled again. “This is such a good thing he’s doing.”
“I’ve also had Murph set up a college fund for Savannah, and for any other children that you and Beau have. You’ll never have to worry about how they’ll get through school.”
Bobby shook his head. “That’s beyond generous. I never imagined...”
“And then there’s your wedding.” Michael paused, smiling. “Much as I’d like to, I don’t see me making it until June. I’ll give you my wedding gift now. I’ve arranged a two-week honeymoon in Italy. Rome, the Amalfi coast...Florence, obviously. Murph has the paperwork. If it’s not what you want, you can switch it for anything else you like. I like thinking of you two seeing Florence together. But you go where you want.”
“Oh, Michael,” Maggie sighed.
“After all the bills are paid,” Michael continued, “the rest of the money goes to you, Mags. It should be in the neighborhood of around eight million, give or take.” Maggie’s mouth fell open. “I know, you’re marrying a rich guy, but I want you to have money of your own.”
She shook her head vehemently. “I don’t want his money. That’s just...ludicrous, is what it is.”
Brian paused the video. “This is what he wanted, Maggie. He was very insistent on making sure that you were taken care of. We’ll help you manage the money and you can always donate to the causes he’s given money to, but the bulk of it is for you. He knew the sacrifices you made taking care of him the way you did. He meant it as a show of gratitude.”
Maggie looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I didn’t do it for money,” she said quietly.
Brian smiled. “He knew that. He also knew you’d balk at taking it. Keep watching.” He unpaused the video.
“Now Mags, don’t give Murph a hard time about this. I’ll feel better knowing that you’re able to make choices based on what you want to do, not on what you can afford to do. Besides, you’re really going to hate this next part.” He grinned mischievously.
“Oh boy,” Maggie breathed.
“I’m leaving you my apartment,” Michael said.
“I hate your apartment, I don’t want your apartment,” Maggie said to the Michael on the screen.
“I know you hate the place,” he said, “but you can move in and not worry about finding a place with Beau until you find what you like. He proposed the other night, but seriously Mags, you can’t expect him to stay in your dinky little place for any length of time, right?”
Michael laughed and shook his head. “Anyway, as
far as the apartment goes, if you don’t want it you can sell it. I already have a buyer lined up and it’s going to go for about six million, furnished.” He held up a hand. “But...I want you to take anything out of here that you want.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t want your shit.”
“At least take the bourbon,” Michael said reasonably.
Maggie smiled reluctantly. “I can take the bourbon. Who’s the buyer, anyway?”
Brian looked down at his paperwork. “A...Veronica Chase. An old friend of Michael’s, apparently.” He looked across to Maggie.
“Veronica,” she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips
“Now Mags,” Michael continued, “once you sell the apartment, that should leave you with plenty of money to furnish your townhouse.”
Maggie frowned. “What townhouse?”
Michael arched his eyebrow mischievously. “Remember that townhouse you bought from me? It was Christmas Eve?”
“Motherfucker!” Maggie exclaimed. Both Bobby and Brian glanced at her sharply.
“You know how I pestered you for some money?” Michael’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
Maggie shook her head. “He kept asking me for money to buy a newspaper. I gave him five bucks.”
“You got the bargain of the century. When we looked at the place, I’d already bought it. You seemed to like it so when money exchanged hands and you signed the paper, it became yours. The realtor witnessed the transaction.”
“Motherfucker,” she muttered again.
“Murph has the deed and the keys. The place is yours, you can move in today if you want.” For the first time, Michael looked serious. “I have to know that you’re alright, Mags. I have to know that you’ll be okay when I’m gone.” He looked down for a moment and paused.
“Just a couple of things left to talk about,” he looked back up at the camera. “Murph is looking for a good litigator for his firm. I told him I knew just the one.” Maggie’s gaze moved to Brian, who smiled in a satisfied way. “I know you’ve been less than happy at the prosecutor’s office. How’d you like to work in a nice, comfortable office uptown? Try cases for people who really need guidance through the legal system rather than thugs who’d knife you if they had half a chance.”
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