Maggie pushed open the apartment door, kicked her Ferragamos unceremoniously under the hall table, and dropped her briefcase and purse on the table. She took off her coffee-stained coat and threw it on the chair as she closed and locked the door.
Stupid fucking jerk. Who brings an open coffee on the subway, anyway? Stupid fucking people in general.
She stopped to rub the back of her neck with a little groan. It had been one hell of a long day.
Ben came up behind her, gave her a little hug, and moved her long, mahogany hair to the side so he could rub her shoulders. Maggie’s first reaction was to pull away; at this particular moment, she wanted nothing to do with the human race. She stiffened at his initial touch but then relaxed. Ben – sweet, gentle Ben. He was not the problem. He was stalwart and patient with her. None of this was his fault. She sighed and stretched her neck appreciatively. After a minute, she turned to him, placed her arms around his waist, and smiled as she looked into his warm brown eyes. “Thanks, hun. You always have a knack for calming me down.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, smiled, and said, “I take it we are ordering in tonight?”
“Not until we break open a bottle of wine and my blood pressure drops a hundred points or so,” she replied, heading for the kitchen. “Red or white?”
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