With a steady influx of customers, Maggie was also kept busy that Tuesday. But at one point, she did notice Ian emerge from the sales building. He made a clearly exercise-motivated walk around the perimeter of the gardens and then strode back inside. Maggie congratulated herself. He was well-occupied and distracted.
Her last customer of the morning necessitated a long tour of the garden area, a detailed discussion of the pros and cons of English ivy—and no sale. Maggie waved him off with a smile, nonetheless. If a customer bought something he didn't like and ended unhappy, he'd never return. This one, however, might come back.
She looked around the deserted garden area. Since she now had a free moment, it wouldn't look odd if she checked on her two patients: Ian and the computer.
She found the former looking perfectly healthy, lounging in her desk chair, his ankles crossed and his heels resting on the desktop. An open seed catalog was in his hands.
For a moment Maggie's eyes rested on his hands, the long, tanned fingers spread over the seed catalog. She'd never noticed that Ian had very nice hands, as graceful as a musician's.
It took her a second to realize her computer had vanished.
Maggie blinked. What? No, surely it had to be here somewhere. She craned her neck, but saw no computer beneath the desk.
Meanwhile, Ian looked up from the seed catalog. "I thought you were never going to get rid of that old geezer."
"He just didn't want to make a serious mistake." Maggie continued looking around. Where on earth could the computer be? "Ivy can be hell to get rid of."
"He keeps dithering like that and he'll end up six feet under before he plants his garden."
"Not everybody is as decisive as you are," Maggie returned. "All right. What did you do with it?"
"With it? Oh, you mean the junk heap." Ian closed the seed catalog. "I guess you could say I got decisive."
Maggie looked blankly at him.
"I called some tech guys I know from the office. They took it away."
"What?"
Ian dropped his feet from the desktop. "You heard me."
"But—but—" Maggie was incredulous. He'd ordered someone to take her computer away? Just decided to have her personal computer hauled off? Not to mention he was supposed to have been fascinated by the project. As long as an object had a plug and buttons, a man was supposed to mess with it 'til the cows came home. "I can't believe you did that!" she gasped.
Ian raised his eyebrows, putting him in haughty and superior mode.
Maggie's ire spiked. "You—you had no right. That was my computer." If he thought he was going to start bossing her around, running her life...
Ian meanwhile tossed the seed catalog onto the desk. "I had every right."
"Excuse me."
He gazed up at her. "You asked me to fix it, didn't you?"
"I did not." But even as Maggie said these words, hotly and self-righteously, a tiny voice piped up inside, debating them.
Ian must have seen her wince. His expression turned satisfied. "No, you didn't ask me to fix it. You just..." Here he rolled the chair up to the desk where Maggie had earlier sat. He made a pantomime of turning on a nonexistent computer. "Oh, dear," he said, in a mocking falsetto. "What is this? My computer isn't working?" He put his hands to his cheeks. "What a—why, what a pure surprise!"
Maggie, watching this, crossed her arms. He was being utterly disrespectful, making fun of her on top of trying to take over her office. She tried to hang onto her indignation, but instead felt the corners of her lips twitch.
Ian shot her a glance. "And no, no, no," he continued, in the same falsetto. "I don't want you to touch it, Ian. Of course not. Because if I didn't act reluctant, you might not try to fix it!"
Maggie felt a laugh bubble forth. Oh, it was—too frustrating. He'd completely overstepped, and all she could do was laugh because...he was right. "Oh, come on, Ian. You know it's true. You wouldn't have given my poor computer the time of day if I hadn't...managed things a little."
Ian swiveled the chair to face her. "So you admit it? You did want me to try fixing it?"
Maggie wiggled her fingers where they lay on her forearms. "Mm." Of course, she was guilty as charged. But still... "You shouldn't have hauled my computer away without asking me first." The cost of fixing it wasn't something she'd budgeted, for one thing, but even more, he just shouldn't have.
Ian crossed his arms over his chest. "And if I'd asked, would you have said yes?"
"No."
He uncrossed his arms and lifted his palms as if to say, 'I told you so.'
Maggie's amusement faded into a moment of supreme frustration. Why couldn't he understand? A person might want to order her own life and not have him manage it, wonderful and expert as his management might be. "Ian—"
"Maggie," he interrupted. He set his palms on his thighs. "You wanted me to fix the computer. You admit that. Well, I got as far as I could. Then I wasn't about to beat my head against a wall. I called someone who could actually do something."
"But I can't—"
"You're not listening, Maggie."
"As if you are!"
Ian leaned back in the chair. "All right. You have something to say? Go right ahead."
Maggie drew in a deep breath. "This is my place of business, my office, my garden...my computer. You don't just— Look, if I were a man, you wouldn't have considered sending my computer off without asking, would you?"
Ian tilted his head. "If you were a man," he murmured, then shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference."
Maggie snorted.
Something flared in Ian's eyes, and Maggie recognized the same frustration she'd been feeling. "I didn't send your broken computer away because you're a woman, Maggie. I did it because—because I couldn't think of anything else to do for you!"
That brought her up short.
Ian's gaze shifted away. "I finally discovered something you needed, and I wasn't about to take the chance you wouldn't let me take care of it."
Maggie was thunderstruck.
The desk chair squealed as Ian got out of it. He took a restless pace to one side, looking away. "You dropped everything to deal with me and the kids Friday. You took care of them all weekend, ferrying everybody back and forth from the hospital—without my even having to ask you. And today—?" He paused and flicked a glance at her. "And today, you really saved my butt with Andy."
All Maggie could do was stare at him. Slowly, uncomfortably, realization began to wind through her.
"I know you didn't expect anything in return," Ian went on. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you, to be able to do something for you." He chanced another glance at her. "Can you live with that?"
Could she? Maggie continued staring at Ian. This wasn't about him trying to run her life. It was about him trying to regain control of his own. He wanted to be able to do something. For her. Could she live with that? And what if the tables had been turned? What if she were the one who was helpless and had to put up with Ian suddenly taking care of her?
Maggie sucked in her lips. "Well, when you put it that way..."
"Yeah? So you'll live with it?"
She managed a weak half smile. "I guess I can manage."
"Good." He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Because that's not all."
"Uh oh."
Ian let out his breath. "It didn't make sense to repair the computer. It would cost more than a new one, and besides, it was obsolete. I doubt you could even access the Internet."
"I got email," Maggie returned weakly.
"Yeah. Well, I only asked the techies to retrieve the data from your hard drive. Then I called Fry's...and ordered you a new Gateway. Before you fly off the deep end, understand this whole business is on me and..." Ian chewed the inside of his cheek. "It's a favor in place of a favor you haven't done for me yet." His regard became deeply wary. "Actually, a favor I haven't had the guts to ask you for yet."
He'd bought her a new computer. A few minutes ago, such intrusive managing would have, indeed, sent Maggie over the edge, but now it only seemed to underline, once again, how profoundly Ian's life had been ripped apart. As much as Maggie was feeling the ground shifting under her, he had to be feeling it worse.
Begging favors of her, no less.
Maggie resisted the urge to clear her throat. "What's the favor?"
"You could probably guess. Not only do I need someone to drive, but also Andy wants this person to stay with me 24/7, just in case." His eyes fixed on hers. "I want you to do it, after all. Be the someone."
Maggie felt as though she'd been punched. She didn't know why she was surprised, though. He did need someone, and she knew he hadn't called an agency. Not to mention, yesterday she had offered.
"Me," she said, stunned nonetheless.
"I know it's asking a lot. Much more than the new computer is worth. But—oh hell, I need somebody." He turned to pace away from her. "The idea of calling in a nurse..." His voice amply expressed the disgust he felt.
"And you're under the impression I'd work out better?"
"I know you would."
Maggie had to laugh.
Ian laughed, too, but only briefly. "Come on, at least I know you, Maggie. And you're the kids' aunt. And I..." He paused, and his brief smile faded. "Look, I'm aware it's completely inconvenient for you. No upside. All I can do is ask you as a favor, out of the goodness of your heart—"
"But what's the upside for you?" Maggie interrupted.
"Excuse me?"
"What's the upside for you?"
He spent a moment looking at her, confused and then thoughtful. "The upside of you, as opposed to some interfering, bossy stranger...?" His gaze rested on Maggie. "Maybe it's because you're the only person I know right now who doesn't think I'm about to break."
That knocked the breath out of her. But she got it. Yes, incredibly, she understood him. His identity was wrapped up in being the strong one. But now no one, not even his own son, saw him that way. Everyone saw him as breakable.
Everyone, he thought, but her.
"So, will you do it?" he asked softly.
Would she do it? After she'd already, officially, offered? And while understanding so bloody damn well? All the same... "We'll drive each other crazy."
"It's only a week."
"It could take less than that for us to want to murder each other."
Ian held up a hand. "I swear I'll let you leave, no recriminations, if you just can't take it any more."
"Oh, I'll be able to handle it. I'm worried about you."
Ian's mouth opened in surprise, and then he laughed. "No question about it," he chuckled. "I'll be completely at your mercy."
"Hm." With her arms crossed, Maggie leaned her weight on the high counter that separated them. There was really no question. She'd be a churl and a hypocrite to turn him down. Besides, it was arrogant to assume she might never need this kind of help herself some day.
But it couldn't hurt to establish a certain hierarchy here, identify who was going to be top dog.
"Just so I have this straight," she said. "You're buying me an inexpensive PC, not a fancy iMac."
Ian looked alarmed. "But I thought— A PC is what you had before—"
Maggie sighed.
"Ah." Understanding glinted in Ian's eyes. "You want more than the computer."
"As you said, there's a large downside for me."
"You want an iMac?"
"N-o-o-o," Maggie said, drawing it out.
"Then what?"
"Hm." Rubbing her chin, she pretended to think about it.
"Come on. You know what you want."
A slow smile curved Maggie's lips. Oh, there were so many things she could demand: the kids for that weekend in Tahoe, an increased deference and respect in Ian's behavior...The list went on and on.
She hugged herself. "I don't want to decide yet."
"Maggie."
She gave him a brilliant smile. "You can owe me one."
The flash of admiration she saw in his eyes told her she'd just made the best bargain possible. He leaned his back against the wall. "Now let me see if I have this straight. I retrieve whatever data was on that broken computer, taxes and significant things like that. I buy you a new computer—"
"And get it up and running," Maggie interjected.
"—and I still owe you one?"
"Uh huh. For putting up with you for a week. Yeah. That's about the size of it."
His dark eyes filled with humor. "It's a deal."
Thinking of that future favor, Maggie already knew she was getting the better end of the bargain, but Ian's wry smile made her triumph even sweeter.
"Oh, I just remembered," she said. "Do I need to pick up the kids from school?"
"Negative. It's public transportation in the afternoon, dear children. And once they get home—" Ian's face slashed into a wicked smile. "Mrs. Granby will be waiting for them."
"The babysitter," Maggie murmured.
"For Andy," Ian added, with definite relish.
Maggie couldn't help laughing. He could be wicked. And arrogant, and superior. But she could handle him for a week. She wasn't Sophia or her mother. She stood up for herself. What with an overbearing father and two strong-willed brothers, it hadn't always been easy, but she'd always managed it.
As Ian would find out very soon, if he didn't know perfectly well already.
~~~
By the time Ian and Maggie arrived back home, Mrs. Granby was on her way out. She made noises of concern and best wishes for Ian, then waved goodbye. Ian was very glad to see the back of her. She was okay for the kids, but her maternal fussiness would have driven him up the wall.
Fortunately, he'd found a substitute.
Ian knew he was grinning as he ushered Maggie ahead of him into the house. It hardly even bothered him that he had to let her lug her own suitcase in. For one thing, she looked like she could handle it. For another, he was just too tickled he'd maneuvered her into staying at all.
Who said he was helpless? Oh, if Howard Gesell only knew. Getting Maggie to stay with him had been ten times trickier than solving the thorniest problem on the Raleigh project. But Ian had done it.
Maggie was going to stay the week. He didn't have to hire some humorless, rule-oriented nurse.
He followed Maggie through the front door.
The kids, who'd both been sitting semi-catatonic in front of the living room TV, jumped up when they saw Maggie and Ian come in.
"You're going to stay, Aunt Maggie?" Kathy gave a little girl squeal. "All right!"
Andy didn't say anything, but Ian could see the relief in his face. He'd probably anticipated a tussle with his father over the nurse issue.
Ian's mouth twisted. He'd probably been right. But, fortunately, they wouldn't have to get into that.
"I'll just put my bag up in the guest bedroom," Maggie said to Kathy. "Then I'll come down and see about making dinner."
"Mrs. Granby made dinner." Kathy started to lead Maggie up the stairs. "Our only job is to do the dishes afterward." She paused to shoot Andy a dirty look. "And it's his turn."
"Hey. I know," Andy shot back.
"No," Ian put in. "It's my turn."
Both kids turned to stare at him. "But—you don't take a turn," Andy argued.
"Not when I'm working," Ian allowed. "But I'm on vacation now, so it's only fair I do my part."
For some reason, Andy frowned at this.
Ian didn't get it. Wasn't the kid glad to get out of the dishes tonight?
"Does Aunt Maggie have to take a turn?" Kathy wanted to know.
"No," Ian said, at the same time Maggie declared, "Yes." Their gazes collided.
"You're doing enough," Ian explained.
"For which you will certainly owe me," she replied, saccharine. "Meanwhile, I'll do my share."
He opened his mouth to continue the debate, then thought better of it. With his brain zipping—something it did a lot around Maggie—he decided to grin instead. "Fell right into that one," he claimed.
"I fell...?" Maggie looked confused for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. "Why, you—"
"I'm sure you'll find a suitable means of paying me back," Ian assured her. "Now, go, go. Put your things upstairs. Andy and I will set the table."
"Fertilizer," Maggie said. "You'll be hand-spreading around the orange trees tomorrow."
Ian laughed. "Go. I'm getting hungry."
He was still chuckling as he put one hand on Andy's shoulder to direct them both into the kitchen.
Andy kept his gaze fixed on the stairs as they walked toward the kitchen door. "Maggie's smiling," he reported. "She doesn't look mad at you."
"Nah." Ian didn't glance around as he pushed through the kitchen door. "Your Aunt Maggie and I understand each other."
"You do?" Andy's head swiveled toward Ian.
Since when? Ian heard the words Andy hadn't added. His smile dimmed as he drew his hand from Andy's shoulder. The truth was he'd always understood Maggie. She was independent, fiercely so. He actually respected that about her. It was when she tried to infringe on his independence that they'd had problems.
But right now, Ian had no independence on which to infringe.
Or rather, and most incredibly, Maggie was giving him as much independence as she could. She'd even sent him on a walk to the bank that afternoon. Seems she'd got a big check in the mail and was anxious to deposit it. Or at least she'd acted anxious in order to give Ian the impression he was actually helping out. Yes, Maggie had concerned herself with making sure Ian felt useful.
And so the jousting they were engaged in now was...just for fun.
Ian paused as he came to this realization. It had been fun. He'd walked into the house this evening in an almost cheerful frame of mind. Who'd have thought that could happen?
"Come on," he told Andy, with a shake of his head. "The sooner we get through dinner, the sooner you can get to your homework."
Andy was taking forks out of the silverware drawer. "I already finished my homework."
Ian nearly fell over. "Oh. Ah. You did?" Andy never did his homework before dinner. They were lucky if he got it done before breakfast the next morning. "I, uh, that's great, Andy. Really responsible. You got it all taken care of."
"No big deal." Andy sounded sullen. He slammed shut the silverware drawer.
Ian stared at him. Teenagers. Christ. Andy had done something praiseworthy, Ian had given him praise, and the kid answered in a tone of voice that said, 'bug off.'
Sighing, Ian reached up into the cabinet holding Sophia's flower-checked dishes. Matters were pretty sad when he got along better with Maggie than he did with his own son.
Ian paused, the dinner plates in his hands. Well, he didn't know if he'd go so far as to call it 'getting along' with Maggie. He finished lowering the plates from the shelf with a chuckle. No, not exactly getting along, but whatever it was, he looked forward to more of it tomorrow.