High Stakes, Hard Sell Ch. 06

"I'll get a brisk run in first. Clear my head. Make some calls."

"I can pick up Nessa. I've got the car." She realized immediately she'd never be able to act on her offer. She couldn't even stand without assistance.

"It's okay. The doc says you should rest, so rest. I'll be back soon."

"I'm sorry, Mike. I didn't mean to..."

"Don't be sorry. I asked for the truth and you gave it to me. That's what I wanted, right?"

She didn't know what to say to make him stay. She struggled in agony to get up off the couch. She got her feet under her just as the door banged closed behind him.

**

He returned late with Nessa and an armload of groceries. Mike made the dinners while Nessa consumed Jane's attention with questions. Was Jane okay? Could Nessa see the bandage? Did they give her ice cream at the hospital?

Jane answered as patiently as she could, while keeping a surreptitious eye on Mike, trying to gauge his mood. He didn't seem angry. Distracted, maybe. Distant. That alarmed her. She needed him close, now more than ever.

Dinner was lively, with Nessa supplying the conversation as Mike and Jane took turns indulging her. Jane ate on the couch, and afterwards she watched a movie and read a picture book with Nessa as Mike did the dishes and cleaned up.

After he'd bathed Nessa and put her to bed, he returned to the living room and began picking up the toys and clothes that littered floor.

"So...you've been quiet," she said, deciding to ease into the conversation.

"Just trying to figure things out. Figure YOU out."

"Do you want me to leave? I'd understand."

He forced a smile. "You're fine where you are."

"Are you angry with me?"

He sat on the couch next to her, then surprised her by taking her hand in his.

"Confused. Conflicted, maybe. But not angry."

"I'm sorry. How do I make this better?"

"You've already made it better. It was good to hear your side of it, even if it was insane and stupid."

"You're the only one I've ever told. Even my sister doesn't know."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. He stroked the back of her hand idly with his thumb - the gesture seemed oddly intimate.

"What will you do when you beat the curse?"

She was grateful he'd said 'when' and not 'if'. She didn't share his confidence - she could still feel the weight of the curse upon her.

"To be honest I hadn't thought about it. Go back to work, I guess. I had three or four deals on the go when I took my leave. They might still be salvageable."

"Going to patch things up with Betty?"

"No."

"No? She's your sister."

"Bottom line, I can't trust her. She had no right to make decisions on my behalf or treat me like I was mentally incompetent. She didn't even apologize - she still thinks she's right."

He paused. "So you're pissed because she treated you the same way you treated me back then?"

"That's not the same thing at all," Jane said, though her voice lacked conviction.

"Look on the bright side. She broke your sisterly bond. Now you can punch her and it'll be her fault, according to your logic," he said.

"How is that the 'bright side'?"

He laughed. His thumb continued to caress her knuckles and the contact reassured her. She sighed heavily and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry for everything, Mike. And I'm not just saying that because of the curse. Making you hate me was the most painful thing I've ever done."

"And you didn't even succeed."

"What?"

"You failed. I never hated you."

"Come on. I saw the look in your eyes back then...when we fought."

"That was anger."

"It did a good impersonation of hate, then."

He shook his head. "Anger."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because it faded," he said, meeting her eyes. "And because most of my memories of those days are good ones. I don't think hate works like that."

They sat quietly for a while. He continued to hold her hand.

"Are we still friends?" Jane asked.

"Are you going to forgive your sister?" Mike countered.

"Doubtful. Well...perhaps. Maybe."

He smiled at her stubbornness. "We're friends."

"Thanks. My offer still stands, by the way. If you can think of anything I can do for you, name it."

There was a longer silence.

"I'm going to need someone to look after Nessa this Friday when I'm fighting. Probably all day Friday, maybe into Saturday morning. If I get injured, might be late Saturday or even Sunday before I get back. Do you think you'll feel up to it by Friday?"

"After what happened last time, maybe Gina would be a better choice," Jane said.

"I'll leave Nessa in the apartment all by herself before I let Gina look after her. Gina hit her."

"No!"

He nodded. "Nessa said so after the last time I left her there overnight."

"What did you do?"

"Not as much as I wanted to. Went over there. Greg got between Gina and me. I told Gina what I thought of her. Threatened to call the cops. Said a whole bunch of stuff I probably shouldn't have. Not too bright of me, I suppose, but I was pretty upset about it. Nessa has a hard enough time with trust as it is."

Jane couldn't suppress a smile. Nessa had changed him, matured him, but underneath it all there was the same reckless spontaneity that had first drawn her to him. Difficult to deal with sometimes, but never boring.

He caught her smile and flashed a sheepish grin. "Anyway, Nessa likes you and I trust you to look after her. If you'd rather not, I could always try to arrange a sitter."

"No...I mean, you don't need to find a sitter. The doctor says I should be almost pain-free by Friday. I'm happy to look after her, if you're sure you're comfortable with me doing it."

He shrugged. "At least we know your appendix won't be an issue this time, right?"

"Very unlikely."

"Okay, I'll count on you for the weekend, then," he said.

She smiled, pleased that he'd consider her an option. Any sign of his trust was welcome and desperately needed. "For tonight, I need your help. I haven't washed since the day you left for Calgary...and I'm beginning to notice," she said.

"Want me to take you out back and hose you off?"

"Or you could give me a hand in the bath tub," she said. It felt awkward to ask him for help with such an intimate function, but somehow not as embarrassing as she'd expected. "I'm not supposed to get the bandages or stitches wet, my stomach is really sore and maneuvering on the crutch is tricky."

"I'll go run the water."

He returned a few minutes later to assist her off the couch and into the steamy bathroom. He helped her off with her clothes and in moments she was naked in front of him, although the bandage on her abdomen and the fact she hadn't bathed - or shaved - in several days left her feeling more gross than sexy.

He eased her into the bathtub. It was only filled to a depth of a few inches but he'd made the water near-scalding to make up for the lack of immersion. He stripped to his underwear and sat on the edge of the tub facing her.

"You do the front, I'll do the back?" he said, squirting some shower gel onto a washcloth and handing it to her.

"It's a plan."

She washed her arms and underarms, then wiped her breasts and stomach, careful to avoid wetting the bandages. He dipped a second washcloth and stroked it slowly over her shoulders and neck. The heat and friction felt wonderful and she felt herself starting to relax.

"That feels beyond amazing," she said, her voice a low purr. He responded by wiping hot water over her shoulder blades, drawing a groan. "Forget mixed martial arts. This is your true calling."

"Washing hot, naked chicks? I'll take it. I'll work overtime." He doused her with more hot water, then began rubbing the rough washcloth between her shoulder blades and down her spine. She felt like melting. For several minutes she sat and enjoyed his hot, wet caresses.

"Hey," he said.

"Yes?" She looked up and found him gazing at her with serious eyes.

"I forgive you. For cheating with Rob, I mean. It was shitty and it hurt a lot, but it sounds like in some messed up way you did it because you loved me, so let's put it behind us. You're forgiven."

She was caught off guard by the sentimentality of the gesture and by the impact his words had on her. She felt something inside her unbind. "Mike...that means a lot. Really. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"And I apologize for hitting you. Regardless of what you say, it was cowardly and there was no excuse and I've regretted it ever since."

"I never blamed you for it, but I accept your apology."

He swiped the hot washcloth over her back again. She closed her eyes and sighed. She loved the contact, the heat. She loved the closeness. She loved the intimacy.

She loved...him?

The possibility surprised her. It had been five years since they'd parted ways. Long enough to have moved on, emotionally. She'd dated plenty of men since her breakup with Mike, enjoyed several lovers, traveled the world, built a career to die for. She hadn't spent her time pining for him, that was for sure.

And yet, there was no denying he heated her in a special way, brought her alive in a way that none of the others ever had. His eyes and his smile seemed to reach inside and affect her at the deepest levels of her being. Being close to him made her happy. He'd been her first and last true love, and she knew she'd never allow herself to love that way again. The risks were too great.

"And I trust you. Completely," he said.

"You don't have to say that. I know I still have work left to do. I'll keep trying until the very end."

"You don't believe it? Test me."

"What?"

"Test me. Ask me to do something I'd only do if I trusted you."

"Like what?"

"I dunno. You're the smart one. Think of something."

"Come on."

He held her eyes and his expression was determined. "I guarantee I'll pass any test you can think of. Anything."

His tone made it sound like a challenge and she considered the idea. How to test for trust? It couldn't be something trivial like 'lend me money' or 'loan me your car' - especially because he didn't have money or a car. Anyway, he'd already entrusted her with the safety of his daughter, so any test of his trust would have to start with something of similar magnitude.

"This will take some thinking," she said.

"Take your time."

"You may regret your guarantee."

"Nope." He seemed sure of his feelings, and Jane almost dared believe they were true.

He continued to bathe her until the water started to cool, then he helped her out of the tub and dried her carefully. She brushed her teeth while he prepared the couch for her. Jane's own clothes were filthy so he gave her a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts and got her settled on the couch. The emotion and stress of the day had left her feeling worn out, and the hot bath made her sleepy.

He brought her some water so she could take her pain meds, then left the remaining drink on a nearby chair within easy reach.

"Do I get a kiss goodnight?" she asked. She expected a smart-ass response, something sarcastic or maybe goofy.

Instead, he knelt next to the couch and kissed her. It was a slow, warm, gentle kiss and she returned it eagerly. When it was over he caressed her cheek with his palm then stood and went in to bunk with Nessa without another word.

She closed her eyes. Maybe things weren't as bleak as they seemed. Maybe, somehow, there was still a chance.

**

Jane woke early Tuesday morning facing a conundrum - she was a salesperson with no product to sell but a desperate need to close the deal. The first day of spring was six days away.

She felt a little stronger; the pain had diminished overnight and she could stand and even hobble slowly without too much discomfort, but that was all she had to offer. Sex was out of the question. So was housework - lifting, bending and scrubbing would be impossible - even getting into and out of her car unaided would be challenging and perhaps painful. She needed so much from Mike, and had so little to offer in exchange.

But there was hope.

He'd let her stay with him in the apartment. He'd forgiven her for her betrayal. He still trusted her with Nessa. And there was a growing warmth in Jane's relationship with him, a playfulness, even a tenderness. He'd told her he trusted her completely, though that likely had been to make Jane feel better. Regardless, it was progress. Late in coming, perhaps, but significant. She was determined to make whatever contribution she could in her final days. Jane Willow would go down fighting!

It didn't take her long to realize that looking after Nessa would be the best way to help Mike. His fight was Friday evening and preparations were consuming most of his time and attention. Babysitting the well-behaved girl wouldn't be physically taxing. The pieces all fit.

He seemed genuinely grateful when Jane offered to look after Nessa in the evenings, freeing him up for five or six extra hours per day. Quite a change from his earlier reluctance to accept her help. Even Nessa seemed pleased by the development, wondering out loud whether it would mean another trip to the Disney store at the mall. The kid was too cute. Jane vowed to take her on Friday when she felt a little stronger.

Jane had never been maternal - the time demands of her job kept her on the move and minimized any contact with children. She wasn't a mother or even an aunt and her relationship with her own mother had gone south when Jane was fourteen so there wasn't much experience for her to draw on.

But if these were going to be her final days, she decided to go all in and give Nessa everything she could offer. Maybe she'd never be 'mom', but she wanted to be remembered as more than the nice lady who did the housework!

So on Tuesday night, Jane took a page out of Mike's book and made the little girl her cause. When Nessa talked, Jane listened. When Nessa looked up, Jane was paying attention to her. It was hard at first, and required a conscious effort to maintain her focus. But as the evening went on it became a little easier to immerse herself in the child's world, to see things from a child's perspective.

As she was helping the kid pick out pajamas it suddenly occurred to Jane that parenting and sales used similar skill sets. Nessa had needs and wants, had her own agenda - sometimes a rational one but more often based on emotion and impulse. Jane had an agenda too - she had to feed the child, keep her safe and happy, get her bathed, send her off to sleep. The trick was in negotiating an arrangement that satisfied both parties. Jane could do that. Jane was amazing at that!

Mike returned late Tuesday night to find Nessa sleeping soundly. Good thing, too - he was so fatigued by his training he was asleep within minutes of getting home.

Wednesday followed the same pattern.

Jane knew from her time with Mike that his focus narrowed as the fight grew nearer and she was happy to be able to take Nessa off his mind, at least for the week. And truth be told she enjoyed the evenings with Nessa - focusing on the little girl relieved Jane's mind of the oppressive weight and stress of the curse - if only for a few hours.

Wednesday night Mike had a bit more energy when he returned and the two of them sat together on the couch. Mike ate almonds and tuna from a can while Jane enjoyed some popcorn.

"That girl of yours is a treasure. She didn't give me a moment of trouble," Jane said.

"She's an angel now, but she used to be a real handful."

"I can't imagine that."

"Oh, the first few weeks alone with her were a nightmare. Brynn's death really affected her, caused all sorts of problems. She'd wail if I left her alone for even a moment. I couldn't be out of her sight. I couldn't train, couldn't leave her at daycare or with a sitter. She had nightmares, wet the bed. It was awful for both of us."

"Her mom had just died. Nessa would have felt vulnerable and confused."

"That's an understatement."

"Did you ever second-guess your decision to take her?" Jane said. "I mean, there must have been doubts, right?"

He pondered the question as he chewed a couple of almonds.

"I'd be lying if I said there were no doubts. I was in way over my head. What did I know about raising a kid, anyway?"

"I admire you for sticking with her."

"Other than her mom, I was the only adult Nessa trusted. She'd known me for a couple of years at that point and she knew I'd be kind to her. When things were really bad, Greg and Gina thought I should give her up to a foster home, but how could I? To betray her trust like that would have been awful."

"I can see how you would have been sensitive to betrayal."

He shook his head. "Betraying a kid's trust is a thousand times worse than betraying an adult. A million times worse. Adults can forgive, forget, get over it. But a kid? When a parent betrays a kid it sticks with them forever, changes them. It damages them in ways that don't heal."

Jane could hear how adamantly he believed it. She found herself nodding in agreement as he spoke.

"It took Nessa a long time - months - to get her feet under her and start trusting people again. But if I'd given her up to a foster home? Betrayed her trust when it was already so badly shaken? She'd never trust anyone again."

**

Jane had never seen Mike fight. Ever. She found even the idea of mixed martial arts repugnant and savage, and the idea that someone she cared about would be on the receiving end of a brutal beating filled her with nervousness bordering on fear.

He'd left Friday morning to get ready for his evening match, and Jane had given him a kiss and a tight hug, wished him luck and uttered a silent prayer that he'd escape injury. The fight was scheduled to start at eight o'clock and the result would be known shortly afterwards.

To distract herself and to amuse Nessa, Jane took the kid to the Disney store in the early evening. As the doctor had said, the pain from the appendectomy had almost disappeared; even her wrist and ankle felt a bit stronger. The going was slow and a little awkward, but she could function.

There was no sing-along this time, but Nessa had a great time trying on princess dresses and she looked so cute as Belle that Jane was compelled to purchase the ensemble. If nothing else, it would make a great Halloween costume down the road.

It was late evening, after Nessa had been fed, given her story time and put to bed, that Jane got around to checking the fight results on her phone.

Mike had lost.

He'd gone the full three rounds but lost a unanimous decision - all three judges gave the fight to the other guy.

Jane's feelings were mixed. Mike was still standing at the end of the fight, which likely meant no serious injuries and that was by far her biggest concern. He'd be coming home in one piece, body and mind intact.

She knew from experience he'd be a little bummed about the loss, and in a bit of a funk for a couple of days as he processed it and got himself re-focused for the next battle. She'd gone through it with him before and knew how to help him get back on his feet again. A big, greasy, bad-for-you brunch on Saturday morning would help; a rare and decadent departure from his normally strict eating routine to mark the end of one training cycle and the start of another.

A bit of sexy flirting would help his mood too, so she washed as well as she could without wetting the stitches or bandages. She had an appointment the next day to get them removed and she couldn't wait. She decided to greet him wearing one of his own t-shirts...and nothing else.

Mike returned shortly after eleven.

Jane met him at the door and embraced him eagerly, but the hug and kiss she received in returned seemed unenthusiastic. His heart wasn't in it.

His face was swollen and welted in places and a small cut on his left cheekbone had already stopped bleeding and was on its way to scabbing over. Considering he'd just gone three full rounds with one of the best fighters in the country, he looked pretty good.