Free Fighting History (Fighting For Love Book 4) by Marysol James Page B

the tension in the room disappeared completely.
    “Oh, Maggie.” He shook his head. “You kill me, I swear.”
    “I’m sorry… it was dumb and childish and I was being a brat. But if it makes you feel any better, I was totally starving that day, and the smell of the fresh-baked pastry was torture.”
    “Well, good,” he said. “Serves you right.”
    “I know it.”
    They shared a grin.
    “So, the next time I come here in the morning, I should bring you some breakfast?”
    “Would you?” she said.
    “Of course I will.” Joe laughed again, thinking that she was adorable even when she was behaving like an insane person. “No problem at all.”

Chapter Eleven
     
    Almost two weeks later, Maggie opened the studio door, working hard to stay calm. She was almost dead on her feet and all she wanted to do was crumble. Joe’s stubborn insistence that he come tonight to see the completed first sculpture made her want to scream. He'd backed off quite a bit in the past couple of weeks, and she hadn't even seen him since the first day of Yates' trial, but she wasn't looking forward to having him around her when she was so tired and on-edge.
    Deep breaths. It’s OK. Just show him, get his feedback, get his ass out of here.
    Joe studied Maggie closely, taking her in. She had dark circles under her beautiful eyes and her cheeks had no color in them at all. Even her lips looked gray.
    Goddammit, I may have been pushing her too hard to get this done. Maybe it’s too much for her, with all this never-ending shit happening with Reena.
    “Come on in,” she said.
    He followed her past the tiny kitchen in to her main work area, and he stopped dead. There, in the middle of the room, stood the most stunning, amazing thing he’d ever seen. His breath caught as he took in the curve of the hips, the delicate bracelets surrounding her graceful wrists, her flashing eyes. She was the perfect dancing goddess: elegant but powerful, regal but sexy, airy but all woman. She was exactly how he had imagined her to be, and he felt emotion rising in his chest.
    Joe turned to Maggie. She was leaning against the far wall, watching him. Her arms were crossed and she looked shattered beyond belief. He paused.
    “Maggie? You OK?”
    “Yeah.” She gestured at the apsara. “So is this kind of what you had in mind?”
    He looked back at the sculpture. “Not ‘kind of’, Maggie. This is exactly what I had in mind. She’s fucking gorgeous. Perfect.”
    At his words, Maggie felt quite a bit of tension suddenly just seep out of her body. She’d been up for thirty-six straight hours now to finish the damn thing and she’d barely eaten, and she’d spent hour after hour worrying about her Mom, and about Reena. To make everything more exhausting, she’d spent the last four nights sleeping sitting up in the chair in Rita’s room, wanting to be there when Rita woke up frightened and in pain.
    By this point, she was shaky and close to tears, just from the sheer desire to lie down and sleep . If Joe had told her to start again from zero, she’d surely have fallen in to a weeping mess on the floor. Also – and she hated to admit this – she was happy that he liked it.
    Crap. I actually care what he thinks, separate from making him happy enough to get paid.
    “OK, good to hear.” It took a massive effort, but thank God her voice was cool and measured. “So I’ll carry on like this, shall I?” She pushed herself off the wall, then stopped as a dizzy spell hit her. She sagged back again, trying to ignore the spinning.
    “Yes, please.” He looked at her again. “Hey, you OK over there?”
    “Fine.”
    Joe wasn’t so sure. She looked incredibly unsteady on her feet, and her eyes were unfocused. He walked a bit closer. “Maggie?”
    “Yeah?” Her voice was weak, wavering.
    “Are you really alright?”
    “Joe…” Her eyes closed and he lunged forward.
    She went down so fast, he almost missed her. Maggie slid down the wall, limp and pale,