"That's how he stayed sharp."

At last Parker met my gaze.

"Is that true?" He sounded shocked.

"I went with him Monday night. I saw it."

Something in his face lifted. After a moment he said slowly, "I've been wondering what to do about his school. I couldn't imagine taking over for him. But maybe " "Maybe," I put in, "you're the best man for the job." Then I added, "You're probably the best man to take over the IAMA as well. You already know everyone. They all respect you. And you had the courage to oppose your own sensei when he went crazy. Right now you've got enough 'face' to start your own hall of fame. If anyone can keep the IAMA going, you can."

The challenge suited him. As he considered it, his eyes lost their tarnish. For the first time, I got a chance to see what he looked like when he wasn't dying of boredom. As he left, I thought he might burst into song.

Aside from the usual parade of nurses, aides, and technicians, plus the occasional doctor, Ginny was my only other visitor. She came to my room twice, once in the afternoon after the doctors let her go, and again late the next morning. The first time, we concentrated on practical matters who did what to whom, in which order. Other than that, we left each other alone. I didn't even try to tell her how I felt about being rescued. The subject was too complicated for morphine.

Her second visit was different. Behind her bruises, she had something heavy in her eyes. She looked like a woman who'd spent the night in surgery having the features of her life rearranged.

I owed her more than I could ever hope to repay, so I went first.

"I have a problem," I admitted as she sat down in a chair against the far wall.

"I can't find the words to tell you how much your help means to me.

"Just in the past few days, you found the real connection between Sternway and Hardshorn for me, you put me on the right track about the chops," by suggesting that Hong evaluate them, "and you saved my life for the umpteenth time.

"I owe you a desperate apology."

She studied me sharply.

"For what?"

"Well" I faltered momentarily "for being such an asshole in general."

Then I rallied.

"But specifically for the way I reacted when you came to The Luxury."

Meeting her gaze was tough, but I did it.

"When you decided to end our partnership, I felt so betrayed and angry that I couldn't think. First I lost you as a lover. Then I lost you as a partner. It never occurred to me that I hadn't lost you as a friend."

Ginny shook her head.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. God knows I gave you plenty of reason to think that way."

Then she stood up and came to the side of the bed so that I could see her swollen face more clearly. The contusion along her jaw made her look like a victim of domestic violence.

"The truth is " To my amazement, she faltered as well. But she didn't back down.

"The truth is," she began again, "I thought we stopped being friends months ago. After I lost my hand. I felt so damn dependent, and I loathed I decided we weren't friends because I didn't deserve to have any. But I couldn't admit I felt that way. Even to myself. I couldn't face it.

"Even after I started to function again, I still couldn't face it, so I took it out on you. I decided you were a drunk by nature, even if you never had another drink. Your weakness was permanent. You weren't worth trusting."

She paused to gather her courage, then said, "But it wasn't permanent.

Ever since Estobal put you in the hospital, you've been trying to prove yourself to me, earn back my respect. Only you couldn't. I wasn't paying attention."

I swallowed roughly.

"What changed?" I wanted to know what she'd seen in me. But she didn't answer that.

Instead she told me, "Marshal." The edge in her voice sounded like anger or regret. Or both.

"Ever since you two met, we've been arguing about you.

"Knowing you, you probably think he's too successful to be honest. But let me tell you, he's pretty damn perceptive. And you impressed him. I mean, except for your manners. He is impressed. He's been telling me for days that I was wrong about you." Her eyes flared.

"He called me a coward. He said I was blaming you for things I didn't have the courage to face in myself."

She glared through me hard enough to crack the wall behind the bed.

"He isn't easy to argue with. And when I made myself look, I started to see what he was talking about."

That explained the shift in her attitude when I got home from the fight club Monday night.

"Hearing from your girlfriend clinched it." Once she'd finished demolishing the wall, her gaze softened.

"You needed help, but you couldn't ask for it, no matter how much trouble you were in, because I'd made you think I'd sneer at you if you did. When your girlfriend called, she told me almost nothing. I assumed you hadn't explained anything to her because you didn't want her to pass it on."

"Actually," I put in uncomfortably, "I didn't explain it because I didn't have time. And I hadn't figured it all out. I was just reacting on instinct."

Ginny dismissed my objection.

"That's not the point. The point is, I believed you couldn't ask me for help because I've been so unfair to you."

She studied me briefly, then asked, "If you hadn't been in such a hurry, would you have called me to back you up?"

I shook my head. She was telling me the truth. She deserved the truth in return.

"Brew " Her throat closed. She had to look away for a moment before she could speak again.

"I want us to be friends.

This" she indicated her jaw "is a small price to pay if it means I can ask you for a second chance."

Not as a lover. I understood that.

Or as a partner. Not yet.

But as a friend ?

Yes. In fact, hell, yes. No question about it.

"Ginny." I reached out with my good hand, took hold of hers.