Not that he’d allowed that claiming. In reality, Maggie had no real claim on the man. He was simply another resident. Another person she could take care of. And yes, Oliver needed a bit of caring too. He was big and tough and there was a strength in him that she recognized. But there was something else inside of him that was wounded. Just like the others, Oliver needed her. Now that Molly was sitting next to Mick and that green-eyed monster had moved away, Maggie could see that need in Oliver’s eyes.
Walking over to him, she offered the platter of cookies. “Louise makes the best butterscotch cookies around,” she explained. “Would you like to try one?”
Oliver stared into Maggie’s eyes as he took one of the cookies. “The best?” he asked, teasing her in the hopes of seeing another blush. Unfortunately, Maggie had her back to the fire, so he couldn’t really see her expression. Pity, he thought.
“Yes. She and Nora used to own a bakery down the street. They ran it for about forty years until they retired.”
“And now they make cookies for occasions like this?”
“Oh, no!” Maggie grinned. “They bake for just about any reason.” Maggie leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don’t stub your toe, or you’ll get a batch of something within a few hours.” She leaned back. “I swear, I’ve gained weight since taking on this job because of Nora and Louise’s baking.”
He took a bite and…holy cow! He blinked down at the cookie, stunned by the burst of flavors. “These are incredible!” he said, startled by how good they really were. He’d been expecting an old fashioned cookie with too much flour or maybe too sweet. But the cookie was rich and warm and bursting with butterscotch flavor, as well as a warm, gooey center. “Damn, these are amazing!”
Maggie laughed. “Told ya,” she replied, swinging her shoulders back and forth slightly. “So, are you going to take the job?”
Oliver swallowed and considered taking another cookie. Or maybe a dozen more! They were that good!
“I already have a job, but–”
“You can work part time. Eddie is a wonderful manager.”
“I’ll think about it,” he promised because he doubted that Maggie would accept no for an answer. She wanted to make sure he was financially set. So he could pay the rent? No, he suspected that her hopes ran deeper than simple financial security.
“Why is the rent so low here?” he asked, curious despite himself.
Maggie’s eyes glowed with pride as she glanced around at the fire-lit courtyard. “Because this is a special place. I made a deal with the owner, Drako Gataki. He agreed to keep the rent low and he even covered the cost of the renovations. In exchange, we all help out around the neighborhood.” She beamed, “It’s a massive tax write off for him. In the end, it’s a win-win situation for everyone. The residents get a decent place to live at a reasonable price. They don’t have to move further outside the city and they don’t have to deal with long commutes. In return, we all figure out ways to keep the operating costs low, so that Drako can at least turn a small profit.”
“That’s very generous of him,” Oliver commented, thinking that perhaps he’d have a chat with the guy. Oliver had seen Drako at the gala at the Kennedy Center last weekend, along with his very pregnant, incredibly beautiful wife. They’d both looked nauseatingly happy and Oliver remembered glancing at Desiree and…no, his relationship with Desiree was in the past. It was over and he’d moved on.
Coming back to the present, he looked down at Maggie. “An interesting business model,” Oliver replied. “I’ve read about Drako Gataki. He’s not a man who lets a good business deal get away.”
“Oh, he’s a very generous man. Very sweet too! I’m good friends with Lilly. In fact, Molly and I had lunch with her about two days ago.”
Ah! A personal friend of Drako’s wife. That made sense now.
“So he does all of this out of the goodness of his heart?”
Maggie laughed as if the idea was ridiculous. “No way! He wants a profit. We just figure out how to make that happen. I select the residents here, both for their needs as well as how their talents might benefit the community.” She looked at him triumphantly. “You’re a good addition.”
His eyebrows lifted at that announcement. “How am I supposed to help?”
Maggie poked his bicep playfully. “Eh, you’re the pretty boy who’s going to keep the bad guys at bay.”
That was startling news to him. She thought he could fight off bad guys? For some reason, his chest puffed up with that news. “I’ll do my best. But who are the bad guys? Do you have trouble with gangs around here?”
He didn’t like the idea of gangs causing problems with his development projects. So if there were a serious gang issue, he’d have to work with the local police to develop a plan.
“Oh, you’d be surprised at the problems that we have around here. But no, the gangs aren’t the big issue,” she told him. “And besides, sometimes it’s the people you don’t suspect who become the biggest worry.”
“Who are your bad guys?” he asked, his tone softening because he liked being her hero. He’d never been anyone’s hero before and it was a heady sensation.
The light in her eyes dimmed and Oliver wanted to kick himself for asking such a sad question.
“Sometimes, the bad guys are right next door,” she replied, and there was a sadness, a pain, to her words, that alerted him that she was telling a truth that was too deep for her to acknowledge. She forced her lips to smile. “And sometimes, it’s the rich guys that are a problem.” She leaned closer. “Rich guys can be absolute assholes!”
He was so startled by her words that he froze for a moment. Then he threw back his head, laughing. Yeah, the wealthy weren’t particularly merciful when it came to steam rolling over certain aspects of one’s life. Himself in particular, he knew.
“Well, I’ll see what I can do to protect you from the gangs as well as wealthy assholes,” he vowed. Oliver had used a teasing tone, but deep down inside, he was absolutely serious. Even if it meant protecting her from himself.
Her melodic laugh touched him deeply and, even in the dim light, he could see the sparkle in her eyes. “That’s a valiant offer, sir,” she said, then dipped into a small curtsy as if she were a fair maiden. He laughed as well, delighted with her casual teasing and light banter.
Oliver never realized how tired he was of the social scene in which he traveled. Speaking to people at the numerous events he attended was like maneuvering through a chess game. He was one of the best players, but standing here in the firelight, he realized how sick he was of the games and the pathetic innuendos he usually had to deal with. This was nice, he thought. Just mild flirting…okay serious flirting on his part…and casual conversation about nothing more important than the best way to bake a cookie or slay monsters. There were no undercurrents of animosity running through the low hum of conversation with these people. The only bursts were occasional laughter.
As the evening wore on, people drifted away, waving as they each made their way back to their homes.
Oliver stayed back, sitting on one of the benches since he hadn’t thought to bring a lawn chair. He’d remember next time. But right now, he was more interested in watching Maggie as she flitted around, picking up the remnants of their small party.
“What can I do to help?” he asked, standing up and moving towards her.
He watched, fascinated as she clutched the empty platter against her chest. “Oh. Um…nothing. I have everything under control.”
He looked around. Everyone had cleaned up the majority of the mess. There was just the folding table to put away and the bags of garbage that needed to be taken to the dumpster.
“I’ll get the table and break it down. Where does it go?”
Maggie bit her lip, and shook her head. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. It’s my job. I’ll take care of it.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Where does it go, Maggie?” he repeated in a firmer tone now.
She laughed, the so
und tinkling through the darkness. “Oh, you think you’re going to do your he-man role now?”
He leaned forward. “If doing a he-man thing involves putting away the plastic folding table, then yeah. I’m gonna do it.”
Her smile relaxed and he wanted to move closer. But there was something in her eyes and in the way she held the platter against her, like a shield, he thought, that warned him to back off. He thought about her comment about wounded souls. Was she one of those souls?
He didn’t like the idea of anyone hurting Maggie. She was so sweet and kind and, if he ever discovered whoever had hurt her, Oliver vowed that he’d destroy the person.
“What just happened, Oliver?” Maggie asked, stepping forward and abandoning the platter on the table beside her.
“What do you mean?” he asked, wanting to reach out and pull her closer, put his hands on her hips and feel her softness against his chest.
“You went somewhere,” she whispered, worry in her gaze. “Something bad just went through your mind, right? Are you okay?”
She lifted her hand, carefully touching his cheek and he could feel her fingers like a flame, bursting upon his brain. Immediately, he was on fire, wanting this tiny woman and all of her passionate concern. But he didn’t want her worried about him. No, Oliver knew he wanted her passion. Not her worries.
Decision made, he nodded, carefully keeping his hands at his sides. “I’m fine. I was just thinking about the person who had hurt you.”
Blinking, she stepped back. “I’m not hurt,” she told him, but her shoulders curled inward.
“You’re a very strong woman, Maggie. But someone hurt you. Who was it?”
She shook her head and turned away. “I’m fine, Oliver. Please, you don’t need to worry about me.” She bent down and lifted the cardboard box. “They drank all of your beer!”
He laughed and took the box, crushing it so it would fit into the recycling bin. “That’s why I brought it. I’m glad everyone enjoyed it.”
“But…” she hesitated, turning around to sift through the other items, stuffing serving spoons and platters into what appeared to be a storage bin for just that purpose. “You didn’t have a drink, did you?”
Oliver considered her question. Yeah, he should be offended that Maggie thought he was an alcoholic. But it felt actually pretty damn nice to have someone concerned about him. It felt good. Really good. Normally, he was the person with the weight of everyone’s lives on his shoulders. Having someone worry about him for a change was…incredible!
He carefully maintained his distance as he said, “I promise that, if I feel as if I’m losing control and will drink to excess, I’ll find you first, okay?”
Her shoulders relaxed and she sighed with relief. “Sounds like a deal.”
He helped her finish cleaning up. When she reached for the folding table, he shook his head. “I know that you’re strong enough to do this by yourself, Maggie. But while I’m here, I’m going to insist on doing it for you.”
She stepped back, rolling her eyes playfully. But there was a smile to her soft, full lips as well. “Thank you,” she replied.
“Tell me where to put it.”
She pointed towards the last apartment in the building. “I’ve taken over one of the un-renovated apartments as a temporary storage area. You can put it in there.”
He nodded, then carried it easily to the door. Once it was put away, he pulled the door closed, made sure the lock clicked, then turned around to find Maggie lifting the storage bin. Hurrying over, he grabbed it out of her hands and shook his head. “You’ll learn eventually,” he growled.
Maggie smiled, then led the way to her apartment. “This way.”
He followed, and waited while she unlocked the door. He stood there for a long moment, just watching her. She was nervous and he thought that was a good thing. Hell, it was the only indication that she was just as affected by this lust as he was. And boy did he like that!
“I’ll take it from here,” she told him, reaching for the box.
“Just tell me where to put it, Maggie,” he repeated, lifting it out of her reach.
She sighed, shook her head, then stepped back. “Just put it in the first bedroom,” she told him, pointing.
Oliver moved quickly through the apartment, barely looking around. He got the impression that Maggie didn’t want him in here for some reason. So he was going to respect that wish. But his curiosity burned.
He set the box down in the room and barely glanced at the stacks of other boxes surrounding a desk. This was obviously her office. He backed out and headed for the front door.
“All set,” he told her, stepping outside.
“Thank you, Oliver,” she told him, toying with her keys nervously.
“I’ll let you get some sleep,” he said. A moment later, he walked away and forced himself to walk into his apartment, without looking back at her. It was one of the hardest, longest walks of his entire life!
Chapter 3
“When are you going to forgive me, Oliver?”
Oliver sighed and fought the urge to roll his eyes. It had been two days since he’d seen or spoken to Maggie, so this interruption by his former lover only made his temper simmer even hotter.
Still, Desiree was good at her job, even if he didn’t want to continue an affair. In retrospect, he hadn’t wanted the affair to begin with. Desiree had sort of…well, he wasn’t sure how the relationship had started. Giving Desiree Milken any sort of encouragement was tantamount to flaming her own bizarre belief that their relationship was just on pause.
“Do you have the latest progress reports for me?” he asked, not bothering to look up from the contract he was reviewing.
She sighed dramatically and came around to his side of the desk, leaning gracefully back in a pose that Oliver knew showed off her figure to the best advantage.
“Oliver, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”
He shook his head and scribbled notes in the margins of the document. “You’ve apologized several times already. I’ve accepted your apology. Now, it’s time to move on.”
She huffed a bit and he knew the sound was his cue to look up at her. Instead, he kept his attention on the document and wondered how long until she would take the hint and get out.
“Oliver, seriously! This has gone on long enough! I’ve apologized. You say that you’ve accepted my apology. So let’s just…get back to where we were before!”
Irritated, Oliver tossed the contract down onto his desk, trying to hide his disgust. “Desiree, you were having sex with my landscaping guy,” he replied, not even angry about it anymore. And suddenly, he realized that he’d never really been angry about her infidelity. In fact, he’d almost anticipated it. Bed hopping was pretty much an accepted practice in their world. He didn’t like it and, until this past weekend, he hadn’t realized that he’d almost expected it of his future wife.
“It was just the one time!” she asserted, even though he suspected that was a lie. He wasn’t sure how long the affair had been going on, but it had been more than just the one time.
“In my bed,” he continued, barely glancing at her.
She shrugged. “Yeah, well, you weren’t using it,” she came right back.
Oliver’s only reply was a sarcastic lifting of his dark eyebrow.
Desiree huffed again, pushing away from the desk and stomped dramatically around the office. Again, he knew that her movements were perfectly choreographed to best show off her figure. Oliver agreed, her figure was truly extraordinary. Desiree spent hours in the gym honing her body. She also spent a great deal of money at the spa getting her nails manicured and pedicured, facials and massages. He knew because, up until several weeks ago, he’d paid for all of it.
After he’d found her in his bed with another man, he’d cut up the credit cards he’d given her, taken back the engagement ring, and ordered her out of his house. Oliver gave the woman credit, she knew how to play this so it sounded like he was the u
nreasonable one. But he wasn’t buying it.
She’d even left a bunch of stuff around his house. Small things, but items he knew that she’d want back, giving her the opportunity to enter his house and continue pleading her case. But Oliver had lived with the woman. He recognized her games and had circumvented her return by going through every room and gathering up those small items, then had his assistant mail them back. He hadn’t even brought them here to the office to return to her. That would have required that he enter her office and, just having her work here was annoying enough.
Granted, she was extremely good at her job. As a publicist and marketing expert, Desiree knew how to make the most out of any phrase or picture. So as long as she did her job, he would respect her in the office. Outside of the office though, he didn’t want to have anything to do with her.
“Oliver, seriously, you can’t be that upset about this. It isn’t as if we were having sex all that often anyway.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “So, you took it upon yourself to find an additional lover?” he offered. “Is that really where you’re going with this?”
She stopped and frowned at him. “Well, it wasn’t like that. I mean, it’s not as if I went out and looked for someone to have sex with since you were too busy to come home.”
He leaned back in his chair, eyeing her curiously. “How did we even get to that point?”
She blinked and stopped her fidgeting for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“How did it come to pass that you moved in and we were engaged?”
Desiree laughed, her mahogany hair sparkling in the sunshine streaming into his office. She truly was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Fortunately, he wasn’t even slightly attracted to her. Not anymore. Had he ever been?
“You asked me out. I agreed,” she explained with a wave of her hand and her eyes lifted to look off to the right slightly, as if the memory was a dreamy one. “The rest is history.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “If my memory is correct, you asked me out.”
Whispered Secrets (Rose Garden Apartments Book 2) Page 3
