Chapter 10
ten
MAGS
Why couldn’t she be obsessed with a man like Eze? Strong, handsome, wealthy, caring, and a genius. He did come with one drawback. Listening wasn’t his strong suit. The ass took her to the hospital instead of her place. Even though she’d demanded it.
Traitor.
Eze left his evening math class at Trinity to rush to her aid, so she couldn’t, wouldn’t, be angry at him.
When he gently picked her up as though she were a fragile, cracked egg, she sobbed into his shoulder, embarrassing both of them.
He refused to take her to the gallery. In fact, he refused to speak to her until an emergency room doctor had looked her over head to toe, given her drugs, and a nurse had helped clean her face and arms.
When he told her he would return shortly, she’d assumed it had been to make arrangements for rescheduling his class, but he’d taken her keys from her tote and let himself into her work/living space.
When he walked back into the emergency room, where she was still being monitored, it was close to eight. He held the strap of one of her old school backpacks, pinched between his huge fingers, and had an unreadable expression on his face.
“The nurse just went to get paperwork for me to sign, so I can go home soon. I just need to be woken up every hour to check for a concussion, but I can set my alarm.” When he remained watching her without comment, she started to fidget.
She smoothed her hands over the hospital sheet, blanching when some of the residual grime from under her nails marred the crisp, white cotton.
“Where did you get that bag?” she asked, nodding toward the pack.
His jaw flexed, and his serious dark eyes did not look impressed with her question. She was about to ask what his problem was when the nurse returned.
Mags signed several discharge papers and listened to the nurse’s instructions. “You’ll need to have someone with you throughout the night. You were lucky that your ribs aren’t broken, as it is, you’ll be moving a bit more gingerly than normal, I imagine.”
Mags was prepared to lie about having someone for the night, when lo and behold, Eze found his voice.
“She will be staying with me. I will follow your guidelines.” As Mags opened her mouth to shoot down the lovely offer, he held up his hand, demanding silence. “A car is waiting at the entrance. I appreciate your help,” he nodded politely to the nurse.
Eze wasn’t happy, and she had a sinking suspicion she knew what it was about. He’d gone to the gallery. Bad luck, that. She would explain her long-term goals and that she had her life in hand. Her bare quarters were temporary.
Despite falling down stairwells. The further from the scene they’d traveled, Mags realized it was shock that must have made her believe she’d been pushed. It wasn’t the type of neighborhood where people feared random acts of aggression.
A slick-looking Mercedes with a man holding open the back door was waiting for them when the nurse wheeled her through the lobby doors. When the man walked toward her wheelchair, Eze stepped between them.
“No, Abeo. I have her.” Abeo gave a slight bow and went back to holding the door.
Eze gently placed her in the back seat and buckled her seatbelt. The evening became more surreal by the moment. Eze walked to the other side and slid into the backseat with her, his large frame taking up most of the space.
“Eze, I appreciate the offer of staying with me, but it isn’t necessary, I promise.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, perhaps trying to stave off a headache. “We have several things to discuss, Margaret. Your living conditions are only one of them.” Then, looking toward Abeo, who was weaving in and out of traffic like a pro, he asked, “Is everything ready for us?”
“Yes, Sir. Jol has seen to it.”
Mags had so many questions, but Eze didn’t appear to be in an accommodating mood, except that she did need one answered. “Where are we going?”
“Lansdowne Place. I have a flat there.”
She knew his family was wealthy, but damn. She was beginning to believe that Abeo and whoever Jol was worked for Eze.
“Are you hurting?”
His voice startled her as she’d been blindly watching the streetlamps blink past her window. “I feel pretty good, really. The meds are helping. It’s a wonder I didn’t break out all my teeth on those steps,” she chuckled. He didn’t. “My ribs hurt, but that’s to be expected.”
Nothing else was said. They parked in an underground garage, and what was becoming a habit, Eze held her against his chest from the garage to the elevator, and even after walking into his spectacular flat.
“Wow, Eze. It’s beautiful. You can let me down now.” She began to squirm from his hold but gasped in pain when she twisted her ribs.
“Stop, Margaret,” Eze demanded while a Nigerian woman, if her stunning clothes were anything to go by, appeared at his shoulder. Without a word, Eze followed her down a hallway.
They entered a bedroom done in stunning browns and muted reds. He didn’t stop until they stood in an en-suite bathroom with a giant tub, steam curling above its rim.
He set her gently on her feet but kept hold of her arm. “Margaret, this is Jol, Abeo’s wife. Jol, this is Margaret Morrow. Abeo is bringing your things. Jol will help you undress and soak before dinner.”
Mags was beginning to wonder if she might still be lying at the bottom of those stairs because this definitely didn’t feel real.
“Wait, Eze. Just wait a second.” She rubbed both hands over her cheeks, trying to center her bearings. “I appreciate you coming to my rescue. I do, but this is too much. How about this, I’ll gladly take a bath, which I don’t need any help with, thank you, though, Jol, and then you take me home.”
“No. Jol will assist you now.”
So much for compromise. Without another word, he spun on his heel and left, shutting the door behind him. Mags looked at Jol and shook her head. “Is he always like that?”
Jol grinned as she began to unbutton Mags’ blouse. When Mags tried to take over, she got a stern look for the trouble. “No, he isn’t usually like that. My husband said your call scared him, and then Abeo said you cried when Eze picked you up.
“Eze is a gentle man who feels deeply. I believe you are his first close friend. I’ve seen him lighter in spirit since you two met.”
Mags let Jol do her thing, her cheeks only burning a bit warmer when she stood naked in front of the other woman. She helped her into the tub and adjusted a warm towel behind her neck.
“You will soak for thirty minutes. I will wait for you in your room.” She turned at the door and added, “Comforting you comforts him, Miss Morrow.”
Mags was curled up on one of Eze’s living room sofas, a plush robe wrapped around her body, while she sipped on a delicious warm tea that Jol handed to her.
It was late, and her eyes were beginning to droop, but with everything Eze had done for her tonight, the least she could do was stay awake for what she assumed would be a lecture.
“I want you to hear me out without interruption. Can you do that?” he started.
“Of course.” At Eze’s disbelieving look, Mags tacked on, “I’ll do my best.”
Eze sat forward on his chair and steepled his fingers. “We haven’t worked together long, but—”
“I knew you weren’t destitute, but come on, Eze. All this,” she said, and waved her hands around the room. At his pointed look, she realized she had interrupted. “Whoops.”
“In that time, I’ve come to know how close you are to your friends. How much you love them, and they love you. I know how much you love Art History at Trinity. I know your mother has cancer and is still out of the country, and that your parents asked you to keep it to yourself.
“I know you miss your parents. You miss the closeness with your friends because your deceit, whether well-intentioned or not, has been slowly building a chasm between all of you.
“I know you work three jobs, four if you include cleaning the gallery.”
“Light cleaning,” she couldn’t help but interject, which he ignored.
“I know you dropped out of school because you couldn’t afford it, and you didn’t tell anyone. I know you live in an attic with no heat, air, or plumbing because you felt you didn’t deserve to stay in your friend’s townhouse if you weren’t in school, and you were too embarrassed to tell them.
“If they are half the friends you say they are, you should have trusted them with the truth, despite what your parents asked of you.
“You called me tonight because you didn’t want to bring them anywhere close to your truth, but what you didn’t account for, Margaret, is that I am a good friend, too, and I won’t let you continue on the way you have been.”
Mags felt her heart pounding a frightened rhythm with every word Eze spoke. “Can I speak now?”
“Yes.”
“I can appreciate that you know so much about me, that you’re as invested in our friendship as I am. And I won’t deny that you’re fairly accurate in most areas of my life, though I can’t imagine how you figured out I’m not in school and why I moved.”
“I teach at Trinity, and I happened to speak to one of your professors weeks ago, and I asked after you. As far as your reasons for moving, when we first met, you told me that your friend’s father bought the townhouses for his family and their friends to live in while they were in school.”
She really needed to get a handle on oversharing. It was truly coming back to bite her in the ass.
“Fine, but what you haven’t considered is that I have a roof over my head.”
“Barely.”
Ignoring him, she continued. “I do have access to a restroom, and my gym has a shower. I work more than one job because fabric and embroidery thread aren’t cheap, and to make money, you have to spend money.
I believe in myself and know I will succeed.
My living arrangements are temporary. I have food to eat—”
“Debatable.”
“If there were ever a true emergency, I do have friends to call. I proved that tonight, and thank you profusely. I would sacrifice just about anything to not burden my parents. You don’t know them, but they are everything that is love and security to me.
“You let the attic situation freak you out, but I promise that this is only a season in my journey. I put money in my account tonight for the first time in forever. I bought a gorgeous dress for tomorrow night, which you aren’t going to get out of taking me to, because I so want a night out, and that isn’t solely because of Jonathan.
“I’ll let you buy me the most expensive rum and Coke the bar can provide. I did find out that the guests are supposed to pay a thousand pounds per plate, but I already worked that out. I kept enough money out from my check to make us dinner before we go.
“I already let Bébhinn know that they could sit us at the bar or out of the way of the dinner tables. We’ll still have so much fun, and I swear I’m not a bad cook.”
Eze let silence fill the room for several moments. “I already called and purchased our spots. I called the elder facility and let them know you wouldn’t be in tomorrow morning. I will cover your shift at the chippers.
“You will rest and recuperate and let Jol pamper you tomorrow. You will move into the extra room here until you’ve saved enough to find a place of your own. With running water and a bed,” he stressed.
“No. No way. You are my friend, Eze, but I’m not your responsibility. I refuse.” She felt destined to surround herself with men whose overflowing testosterone was deadly.
“We are friends. I knew your finances were strained, but not to the extent they are now. That is easily remedied. You can keep the gallery space for your work. Living here will afford you a level of comfort and safety. And food.
“Either do what I ask of you and keep your life private, or I will tell your parents and friends.”
Mags watched in horror as he crossed his behemoth arms over his chest, reminding her so much of Gray’s father in that moment it felt like déjà vu. Stubborn men. Soft-spoken Eze was railroading her, giving her nothing but granite eyes and stonewall expressions.
She sat up and tugged the lapels of her robe tight, regretting the tug against her ribs immediately, but damned if she would let even the smallest whimper pass her lips. “You’re being unreasonable.”
“You’ll still be running yourself ragged. You’ll still be working an unseemly amount of hours. Your goal of becoming famous for your embroidery is still in place. The only difference is that you’ll have a place to lay your head at night.”
If she argued further, which she wanted to, it would seem petty and childish. Worse, it would be foolish. “Fine. I accept…gratefully.” Eze’s lips tilted into almost a smile at that.
“But I’m going to the gallery to work tomorrow. I have a few adjustments to make to my dress as well. Also, if I’m staying here for a short while, I will help cook and clean.”
Jol, who happened to be quietly moving through the living room at the time, said “No,” before retiring to the back.