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Authors: Ginger Voight

Tags: #triangle, #series romance, #rubenesque romance, #rocker romance

BOOK: Mogul
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Graham had wormed his way into her heart when
she wasn’t looking. She had more than a reason to wake up every
morning, she had a reason to smile, to laugh… to enjoy life again.
She hadn’t felt this way since Mitchell died, and nothing scared
her more than to lose that feeling again.

Before, with Andy as a buffer, she had been
able to deny the feelings that had started to take root. It was
easy to defer to someone else as the objective third party, who
merely played a supporting role. It was only after she faced off
with Andy during Graham’s bout of pneumonia that she truly knew she
was in over her head.

The day Maggie had confided to Graham about
what had happened with Mitchell, he had taken her into his arms as
a gesture of comfort. It was the first time she had leaned on
anyone else for support in a long time. She noted how strong his
arms were, how steadfast his embrace. When he took her out on the
town afterwards, she truly felt like a woman for the first time in
a long time. She had indulged that feeling only to put Graham’s
health at risk. She had challenged his compromised immune system
with prolonged exposure to the outside world on his first real
outing. When he came down with pneumonia, Maggie was panic-stricken
that she had been the cause, not his shock over learning Andy had
been with Vanni in New York.

It was just easier to blame the younger
woman, who had bounced between the two men she loved like a ping
pong ball. It was also easy to blame her for being too stupid to
realize what kind of man she had in Graham. To Maggie there wasn’t
even a choice between the two men. Vanni was immature and selfish
and entitled. Graham had been devoted and selfless, to the point of
taking a bullet for her.

Andy totally didn’t see how lucky she was,
and that pissed Maggie off most of all.

It was then Maggie had the inkling that her
anger at Andy was more than just defending her patient. When Andy
returned, Maggie was relieved. Falling in love with a patient would
have been an unnecessary complication.

Now, as she helped him into his whirlpool
bath, she feared that ship had sailed. She averted her eyes from
the lower half of his body, reminded of the time she walked in on
his private moment pleasuring himself.

It had awakened something in her she thought
long buried, and those thoughts had no place in her job as his
nurse.

She didn’t say much as she left him to soak.
If Graham noticed he didn’t say anything. They hadn’t really talked
about things of a sexual nature since that day, even though she
knew he had resumed a fairly active love life when Andy had
returned to the house after the New York debacle. Andy had slept in
his bed almost exclusively until their last trip to New York, and
since Maggie had an adjoining bedroom she didn’t need to be a
psychic to figure out what sounds meant what.

He hadn’t said one way or the other if they
had been intimate, and it wasn’t really Maggie’s business anyway.
She knew he was curious about fathering children in his current
condition, but as far as she knew their efforts had not been
successful.

Maggie couldn’t even imagine how complicated
that would have made everything.

She headed for the kitchen to make herself a
snack as he soaked. She decided to make him a treat as well, just
to spoil him a little for all his hard work that morning. He was
making tremendous strides toward his goal – both literally and
figuratively – so she felt he deserved a little pampering. She
smiled to herself as she prepared him a plate of fruit and cheese.
It made her feel domestic and womanly to take care of the man she
loved. It was such an old fashioned notion when she took time to
think it through, but thanks to a ringing telephone she didn’t have
to dwell on it much.

“Graham Baxter’s residence.”

“Hi, Maggie. It’s Andy.”

Just the sound of the other woman’s voice
made Maggie’s smile evaporate. Her tone was stiff as she replied,
“Hello, Andy.”

The tension between them was palpable, even
over the phone. “May I speak to Graham?”

Maggie cleared her throat. “Graham’s busy in
therapy at the moment. Can I give him a message?”

“It’s kind of an emergency,” Andy said.

Isn’t it always?
Maggie thought to herself. “Fine. Hold
on.”

She went back to Graham’s private bath, and
knocked on the door. “Come in,” he responded from the other
side.

The minute she entered she took note of how
youthful, strong and masculine he looked reclining in the bubbling
whirlpool. She felt her heart swell despite herself. She hated
having to disrupt their perfect little bubble with anything related
to Andy, but it was clear that as long as she was with the lead
singer of his biggest act, they’d never really be done with
her.

So
complicated
, she reminded herself
again.

“Andy’s on the phone,” she replied tersely.
“Says it’s an emergency.”

He nodded immediately and held a hand out for
the phone, so she handed him the cordless handset. “Yes, Andy?” he
said, and it tore at Maggie’s heart to hear the hopeful tone in his
voice.

He needed to be needed, and no one needed him
more than Andy.

Maggie watched as concern drew his face into
a scowl. “Maybe you should call the police,” he said. After a
pause, “No, of course you wouldn’t want to draw that kind of
attention… but if there’s something in that package that is
dangerous…”

Maggie sighed as she stood helplessly by and
waited.

“Okay, listen. I think I know who we can
call. Just stay inside, okay? And Andy,” he said quietly, “thanks
for calling.”

He disconnected the call and reached for a
towel. Maggie wanted to ask what the big emergency was, but she
quietly did what she always did best: her job.

She dried him off, got him into his robe and
then helped him get into his chair. He wheeled down the hallway and
into his office without another word.

Maggie’s spirit had deflated by the time she
returned to the kitchen and the colorful plate of food she had
prepared for him. She considered only briefly putting it away, but
then before she lost her nerve she grabbed the plate and headed for
his office.

He had just hung up one call and dialing
another when she entered. He held up his hand briefly while he
spoke into the phone. “Hi, Andy. It’s Graham. I called my director
of security at the office; he’s sending someone to your house right
now. His name is Terrance and he’ll call you with the details.” He
paused, and then smiled tenderly… lovingly. “No, it’s no trouble at
all. I told you I’d always be here for you. Haven’t I always meant
what I said?” He paused again. “Call me anytime.” He looked as
though he wanted to add something else, but thought wiser of it.
“Talk to you soon. Bye, Andy.”

He was still quiet as he disconnected the
call and placed the phone onto his desk. It was as if he had
forgotten Maggie was standing there, which – of course – he had.
She cleared her throat, and his head snapped back. “Oh, Maggie. I’m
sorry. I had to take care of something. It was…”

“An emergency,” she filled in. “Yes, I
heard.”

There was a sharpness in her tone that didn’t
escape his notice. His eyes searched her face. “Is something
wrong?”

She shook her head and placed the plate down
onto his desk. “Of course not.” She turned to leave but then curled
her fists into tiny balls at her side. She whipped back around.
“Actually, there kind of is. I thought Andy had made her
choice.”

Graham’s brow knit in confusion. “She did,
but this was something that couldn’t wait.”

“Apparently nothing in Andy’s world can
wait,” Maggie retorted, with more fire than she probably intended.
“I think it’s a bad idea – for your recovery – to ride to her
rescue every time she calls. You’re going to waste all your time
and valuable energy fixing all her problems when we have a full
plate right here. With – with you,” she stammered.

He leaned back in his chair, confused by her
rancor against Andy. The movement caused his robe to gape open,
which flustered Maggie even further. A flush crept around her neck
and up toward her cheeks. “Maggie, is there something you’re not
saying?” he wanted to know.

“I
am
saying it,” she clarified. “You’re
not listening. Andy’s a big girl. She can fix her own problems now.
And if she can’t, her boyfriend can. Retire the white
horse.”

He wheeled around the desk to face Maggie.
“It’s not that simple. There are some things a little more
important than wounded pride or a broken heart. Look at me,” he
instructed softly, and her eyes made an unwilling trek over his
body. His broken body was proof he’d risk anything for that girl,
and Maggie knew it. “This situation isn’t all black and white. If I
can help keep her safe – someone I love – then I’m going to do it.
Accept it. Because it’s not going to change.”

Her chin trembled slightly as she tipped her
head defiantly. “Fine. Then I quit.”

He laughed as he rose painstakingly from his
chair and walked the three feet that separated them. He took her
hands in his. “You can’t,” he said softly as he looked into her
eyes. “Because you’re just like me. White horse and all.” He pulled
her into hug, which confused her even more. “Face it, Mags,” he
said, using his affectionate nickname for his favorite nurse. “You
can’t deny someone who needs you anymore than I can.”

Her throat constricted as she closed her
eyes. It wasn’t a declaration of love by any stretch, but she knew
Graham had spoken nothing but truth. She could never leave someone
who needed her… especially when she needed him just as much. “I
just don’t want to see you hurt again,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly as he turned back toward
his chair. “Look at it this way. Whatever breaks, you can fix.
You’re my miracle worker, Maggie Fowler.” He gave her a wink.
“Don’t you ever forget it.”

He grabbed his snack and wheeled from the
room.

She said not another word about it, even
after Andy called back a bit later that afternoon. From what she
could ascertain from Graham’s end of the conversation, Maggie
deduced a package had been left on their doorstep and Andy had been
unwilling to open it. It turned out to be a care package from a
groupie trying to get closer to the playboy rock star, filled with
baked goodies and near pornographic photos, along with some
questionable underwear. Fairly tame, considering how much crazy
they’d faced already, but still obviously disconcerting that people
without any real concept of boundaries could find their way right
to their door.

Graham reminded her that this was the life of
a rock star, and sometimes these were the complications that
entailed. He didn’t offer an alternative, he knew better than that
by now. Instead he reiterated he’d be there for her if she ever
needed an ear, and ended the call mercifully before she could
change her mind once again which man was the better fit.

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief as she
retired to her room. She tried not to entertain any fantasies that
he’d show up in the door way, finally sure which woman was the
better fit for him.

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

Hollywood, California

February 1, 2011

 

 

The wail of an ambulance screaming down the
boulevard penetrated the paper thin walls of the no-name motel
where Holly and Julian Neal lay in wait, hatching the next step in
their con game. Actually Julian lay in bed, watching TV, while
Holly slumped next to the toilet, puking her guts up.

She could only hope that this pregnancy would
stick so that she could marry Vanni and be saved from a roach trap
of a motel and an ex-husband she could never quite ditch.

She struggled to her feet, washed out her
mouth and stumbled toward the sagging bed. She curled up in a
miserable little ball. “Julian, go get me a soda,” she
whimpered.

“I used the last of our money to buy you the
donuts you wanted. Remember?”

She nudged him with her foot. “Then find a
way to get me something. I’m sick.”

“Leo will be here any minute. He’s going to
float us a loan.”

“I don’t want to see anyone,” she whined. “Go
wait for him outside.”

“It’s cold and it’s raining. I’m not waiting
outside.” He punctuated his declaration by lighting up a
cigarette.

She gagged. “I told you not to smoke around
me or the baby,” she cried, before she scooted off the bed and
headed toward the bathroom. She just barely made it before acidic
bile burned her throat and nose as she vomited on an empty
stomach.

He took a long, defiant drag before he
snubbed out the cigarette in an ashtray. “I can’t wait till she’s
Vanni’s problem and not mine,” he mumbled.

A knock at the door drug him out of the bed.
It was Leo, who brushed past him after dropping a paper bag in his
arms. It was full of cheap food they could prepare in the rundown
motel room. Leo had paid a little extra so they could have a mini
fridge and microwave. Since they were living on his dime he didn’t
want to have to pay a fast food bill every time they got
hungry.

He shoved a wad of bills into Julian’s hands.
“Make it last this time, huh?” he growled as he plopped into one of
the chairs next to a shabby little table and lamp. “I’m not made
out of money, for crissakes. Not anymore,” he added for emphasis.
He was still bitter that Holly’s misstep in New York, putting that
cow Andy in Vanni’s path, had shot all their plans straight to
hell. Now thanks to that asshole Graham, he was blacklisted in
every legitimate music studio in town.

He wound up working sound for a couple of
pornos just to pay the bills, not to mention paying for Holly and
Julian to get back out to L.A. Now that she really was pregnant,
they had a shot again manipulating that empty-headed greaseball
into setting them all up for the rest of their lives.

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