Chapter 18

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 Macy walked into Twain's office, feeling like she was entering the lion's den. 
'I will accompany you,' Macy dragged out.  'Separate bedrooms,' she demanded.

 'Of course,' he grinned devilishly, retrieving a box of expensive chocolates from his drawer.  He popped one into his mouth.

 Macy's eyes widened.  That was exactly the same type of box, on Parker's bedside table.

 'Want one?' He offered her the box, seeing her jaw drop.

 'It's nine thirty in the morning!'

  Twain placed the box on his desk.  It may be nine thirty.  Macy only came on duty at eight every morning.  She would not know that he'd been up since five; that he'd spent two hours in theatre before he'd gone down to her surgery to greet her this morning.  He needed an energy boost.  Swiss chocolates did it for him.  He looked up, she was still staring.  He tentatively offered her the box again.

 'I can't believe you ___ like chocolates,' she murmured.

 'What, are men not supposed to indulge in a ___ secret vice?' he laughed softly.

 They have so much in common.

 She shook her head in amazement.  'I just ___ find it hard to believe.'

 'Why?'  He grinned, getting up and walking to where she stood.

 'I guess you've figured out that Parker shares your vice.'  Macy suspected he liked having this sinful indulgence with his son.

 'It was a haunch,' he grinned smugly, casually placing his arms at her waist.

 'You better not be sneaking chocolate bars to Parker, behind my back' she warned.  'He does not know when to stop.'

 'May I have your permission to ___ moderately, exploit our joint indulgence,' he grinned mischievously.

 'Macy laughed softly.  'I think he spends half his allowance on chocolates.'

 She felt Twain's muscles tense and only then realized, her arms were circled around his waist.

 'Twain?' 

 He shifted out of her arms, turned his back on her, moved away to stare out the huge bay window in his office.  Macy followed him.

 'Twain, what's wrong?'  She whispered, gently placing her palm on his shoulder.

 He turned around, his eyes searching hers.  'All these years___ that should have been my responsibility.'

 'What are you talking about?'

 'Parker's allowance.  His school fees.  His wardrobe.  His every need.'  Twain was angry, but not at her, she knew that.

 'I managed,' she murmured.  'You did help, by getting me into Crawford,' she smiled.

 'I should buy him his own computer, I think.'

 'There's no need,' Macy shook her head.  'We do have a new one at home now.'

 'But he's my kid.  I should buy him stuff, only ___ I don't want Parker to feel, I'm buying his love, by showering him with material possessions.'

 Her affection for him grew a thousand fold right there.  'Oh Twain,' she groaned softly.   'Thank you for being that insightful.'

 He wrapped his arms around Macy again.  'I want to do right by my son,' he murmured huskily, 'but I never want to step on your toes, in the process.  I have the healthiest respect for you Macy Skye.'

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