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“Not until you’re better.”

“I am sick of lying around.”

Mallory looked at her watch. “What’s it been, all of twelve hours?”

“Fourteen, but who’s counting?” He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. When he
swayed, she was there to support him.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. I’ve got you right where I want you.” He hooked an arm around her waist and gave her a kiss that still zinged down to her toes even though he was being careful.

“There. Was that so hard?” he asked, brushing his lips over hers again.

“I don’t want to break you,” she said.

“I’d die happy.”

“What’s with the sewing machines? Are you running a sweatshop?”

He winced. “Oh, I didn’t really want you to see that.”

“Why?”

“Well, my macho image has taken enough of a beating lately.”

“Rosie Greer used to knit.”

“I’m not as tough as he was.”

“You’re plenty tough, Max Spencer. So what are you working on?”

“Come on, I’ll show you my etchings.” He held her by the hand as they walked into the living room area. He moved slowly and carefully, and his eyes reflected pain.

The drafting table had some sketches of sportswear for women and men on it. He sat down gingerly and steadied himself before giving her a grin. Flipping through the sketch pad, he showed her his designs.

“Hey, I know that outfit. I wore it.” Mallory pointed to the blue and green workout outfit that Anya had given her.

“You didn’t know it was mine?” He looked at her in disbelief.

“No, Anya gave it to me to wear. She said it would wick away the sweat and make me look fabulous.”

“It worked.” He tugged her down so she was perched on his lap.

“You drew all of these? You are so talented.”

Max ducked his head. “I know it’s not the greatest, but it gets the point across.”

“I’m surprised you don’t use a tablet, like they do on TV.”

“I like the feel of the paper and the colored pencils. Blame my sister. She had fashion plates when we were kids. I let her play with my army guys and she let me design clothes for her Barbies.” He stopped and looked at her in surprise. Closing his eyes, a red flush crept over his cheeks. “I can’t believe I just told you that. I also had a Mighty Men and Monster Maker and I ran track. Does that help?”

“I’m not judging. I think it’s great. I was more culinary inclined. I had a Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine and an Easy Bake Oven.”

“So you can cook?”

Mallory shrugged. “I make a mean mac and cheese, but that’s about it. You parlayed your early childhood play into a better career, it seems.”

“Well, not yet. I still have to sew up the sample collection. I guess the forced time off from doing anything physical will give me some time to get that in order.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.” She pointed to the bed.

“I’m not tired,” he insisted, even as he yawned.

“I’d offer to help, but I sewed my Home Ec project to my pants one year,” she said.

“You can help me shop for fabric.”

“As long as it’s online, I’m in. I still haven’t found the guts to step out of Couture on my own,” Mallory said, though she was looking for an excuse to do so. Couture was a great fantasy, but reality kept rapping on her door.

“I feel I should do twenty knuckle push-ups or something else manly now.” He got up from his drafting table and flexed his arm muscles into a double bicep pose.

“Like burp the alphabet?”

“Would that impress you?” Max rubbed his chest and seemed to contemplate forcing air out of his mouth.

“Not really.”

“Good, because I’d need a lot more beer.”

“
More
beer?” Mallory gave him a fishy look. “You shouldn’t be having any.”

“Any beer. Although I suppose soda would work too. Birch beer is the best.”

“For what?”

“Burping.”

“This is a charming conversation.”

“You’re the one that brought it up.”

“So I did. Are you a
Project Runway
fan?” Mallory took his hand and led him to the couch, away from the computer and his sketches. She needed to get him to rest and recover so he could heal.

“Don’t let Colleen know. The next harebrained scheme she’ll have me involved in will have Tim Gunn telling me how much my draping stinks.”

“The fact that you know what draping is is very hot.”

“Why do you ask?”

“I figure we can do a marathon of last season. I missed it because I was working crazy hours. I’ll sit next to you on the couch so you can get some rest. It’s a win/win situation.” She pulled the ottoman over and lifted his feet up on it. Tossing a lap blanket over his legs, she grabbed the remote and cuddled up next to him.

Max stroked her hair as she fiddled with the channels to get the on-demand menus to
come up. “You don’t have to babysit me.”

“I want to,” she said. “Besides, this is decadent for me.”

“No, decadent is if you were naked and we had chocolate chip cookies.”

“And wine.”

He made a face. “Heathen. Milk. Maybe chocolate milk if you want to walk on the wild side. But if you took off your clothes, I could deal.”

“Not this week.”

Mallory stared at the runway without seeing the elegant women striding or strutting down the stage. She had just come from one of her therapy sessions with Dr. Strauss and was feeling like she was going to shatter apart into a thousand fragments. Dr. Strauss wanted her to call David and talk to him. He said that facing this fear would take its power away from her. It would be the next step in moving on. Right now, all she wanted to do was hide in the crowd. Flashbulbs popped around her and people gossiped catty nonsense.

The Japanese anime designer was long gone, so she felt safe that she wouldn’t run into Chrissie again. This was the student fashion show and Couture’s fashion side was living large. Bloggers mingled with reporters as each one tried to find the next new thing in fashion.

“Having a good time, Rocky?” Colleen said. She was dressed in a tailored black leather cat suit with a wide belt made of chain mail. “You haven’t slugged any other VIPs, have you?”

Pretending she didn’t hear that, Mallory countered, “What are you wearing? You look like Barbarella time-traveled to the Middle Ages.”

“It’s one of Anya’s designs for our Fierocity line. I could get one made in your size, but we’d have to alter it a bit.” Colleen gestured to her chest. “Take it in a bit.”

Mallory flipped her off.

They watched the women swirl and pose. Mallory recognized Nefertiti, who looked stunning in a white halter dress. Anya came out next, in a violet wrap dress.

She clapped for them, even if her heart wasn’t in it.

“What’s wrong, kid?”

“Don’t call me that.” Mallory tried to sound gruff, but her voice cracked.

“Let’s get out of here,” Colleen said.

Mallory followed her out and back into her office. “Between this place and Dr. Strauss’s office, I feel like I should be lying on a couch telling you about my mother.”

“Spare me. I’ve met your mother,” Colleen said. “How are your sessions with him going?”

“Two steps forward, one step back.”

“That’s progress.” Colleen offered the whiskey bottle, but Mallory shook her head. “Let me guess: today is a one-step-back day.”

Mallory’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh honey.” Colleen knelt next to her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Sobs gusted out of her. “All I want to do is cry.”

“It’s okay.” Colleen hugged her and rocked her back and forth. “It’s good to let it out.”

“I don’t even know what I’m crying about.”

“Do you want me to call Dr. Strauss?”

“I just left his office an hour ago.” Mallory sniffed. “I could use some tissues.”

Colleen passed her a box. “What did you two talk about?”

“About my next step. Getting my job back. Going back to my life.” Mallory waved her hands around. “It’s all so overwhelming.”

“You can stay here as long as you like,” Colleen assured her. “You don’t have to rush into anything.”

“I know. I want to be done with this fear. I want to go back to normal. But I’m too scared.”

“What can I do?”

Mallory shook her head. “It’s up to me now.”

Colleen held her hand as she pulled herself together. Couture was a beautiful place, but it wasn’t home. She wasn’t going to be a fashion model or a teacher. Stepping up during the MMA fight made her realize that she missed being a doctor. David had taken that away from her and she was going to get it back.

“I’m going to go up to my room and lie down,” Mallory said, getting up.

“You want company?”

“I’m good.” She hugged Colleen. “Thank you.” Her voice was weepy.

“You’re my baby sister and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Mallory took the box of tissues with her, staring down at them until she got into the elevator. When she got back to her room, she eyeballed her room phone as if it were going to get up and dance a jig. She hadn’t had the courage yet to recharge her cell phone. She was afraid it would start ringing as soon as she plugged it in. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed. She could deck a pro football player, but she couldn’t call her boss? She should probably go check on Max first. She was halfway out of her room before she stopped herself. She’d hidden for over two months. It was time to get back into the real world. Besides, her boss deserved to hear from her before she saw her on social media or television hitting Chase. Although it had been three days. If she hadn’t seen it by now, she probably wasn’t going to.

“Do the right thing,” she told herself. Dialing the phone before she could change her mind, Mallory paced the room and hoped to get voice mail.

“Hello?”

Mallory closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Hi, Jen.”

“Mallory! I’m so glad to hear from you. How’s your mother?”

“My mother?” Mallory looked at the receiver in confusion—as if Jen could read her expression over the telephone line. “She’s fine.”

“David’s been keeping us updated, but I wanted to hear from you.”

“David?” Mallory sat down on the edge of the bed. “What did he tell you?”

“He said your mother was in a car accident and it didn’t look good.”

“When was this?” She put her hand over her heart. If he hurt her mother …

“Two months ago. We started the FMLA paperwork for you.”

“Oh.” Relief made her head spin, followed quickly by a pounding rage.
How dare he?

“Mallory, what’s going on?”

“Jen,” she sighed. It would be so easy to let her go on thinking the lie. The Family and Medical Leave Act would assure that she still had a job when she came back. “Jen, I’m sorry. David has been lying to you.”

“Why would he do that?” Jen’s voice became hard.

“He’s a sociopath. Here’s the real story. David …” Mallory searched for those words she’d practiced. “Hurt me.” She settled on being vague. “It’s been going on for a long time. I tried to hide it. I figured I could fix him or he’d just wake up one day and go back to being the man I fell in love with. But instead it got worse. He did something unforgivable and I ran for my life. I’ve been hiding from him ever since. I talked to my mom a few days ago and she was fine. I’m at my sister’s right now.”

“Jesus, Mallory. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t tell anyone. I’m just starting to get my head together.”

“Are you seeing someone?”

For a crazy moment, Mallory thought she was talking about Max, but then she realized she was asking if she was in therapy. “I’ve been talking to a psychiatrist that my sister has on staff. He’s helping. Being with friends is helping. Being away from David definitely is helping.”

“Did you call the police?”

“No.”

“Mallory, why not?”

Mallory winced at the censure in her boss’s voice. “I just couldn’t. I froze up inside. And now, too much time has gone by.”

“So are you going to wait until he does it again? I’ve got news for you. He’s been calling here every week and giving me a bullshit story about how you’re in Nevada with your folks. The impression I got is that he is waiting for his fiancée to come back home to him soon.”

“Well, he’s got a long wait.”

“You need to report his ass to the police.”

Mallory shook her head, but she realized her boss couldn’t see it. “I can’t. He’s got friends in the court. If I file for a restraining order, it’s going to get ugly.”

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” she admitted. “But I know I still want my job. I just need a few weeks.”

“I can’t put this through FMLA now. You don’t qualify.”

“I understand.”

“I need to put this under job abandonment. You’re going to lose your seniority.”

Mallory nodded. Her throat tightened, but she got out another “I understand.” Maybe she could ask Jen to give her a good recommendation and she could start over somewhere far away from David.

“Unless …”

A glimmer of hope shot through her. “Unless what?”

“Hold on, I’m typing. How many vacation days have you accrued?”

“Accrued? I thought if I don’t take them, they disappear at the end of the year.”

“Only your personal time. Aha! Well, lookie here. You, my dear, have seven weeks of vacation coming to you.”

“I’ve been gone longer than that.”

“You’ve got fifteen personal days for this year.”

Mallory did the math in her head. “So that means …”

“Get your ass in here tomorrow and not only will you still have a job, but you’ll get back pay for the two months you’ve been gone.”

A sob escaped her. She wanted to go back to work so badly, but she was afraid. Jen was sticking her neck out for her, though. Mallory couldn’t let her down. “What time do you want me?”

“Let’s go easy on you for your first week back. You can pull the day shift for the next two weeks.”

“I can do that,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

“Good. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Thank you,” Mallory said. “You don’t know what this means to me.”