The fact that he’d even asked seemed strange. Didn’t he feel as out of sorts as she did? “What I most want out of life, I guess.”
“So are you back from Tahoe? Because if you are, we should meet up, have lunch together.”
And then what...go back to her place? He was acting so casual, as if nothing had changed. She couldn’t help bristling, especially after the avalanche of guilt that had nearly destroyed her this past week. “No, I’m not back yet. I’m—” She was about to tell him she’d very likely be spending the whole summer at the lake, but he cut her off.
“Oh, that’s right. Your flight isn’t until Friday. It was on the company calendar until Gary deleted it.”
“That was quick,” she said dryly.
“He sent an email to the whole company this morning, notifying everyone that you’d quit.”
“How nice of him.”
He didn’t respond to her sarcasm. “I hope it wasn’t because of me.”
She stopped pacing. Of course it was because of him! What other reason could there be?
But he didn’t sound too broken up by what they’d done—that he’d hurt his wife so deeply, if he even planned to tell her, or that Reagan wouldn’t be coming into the office each day. “We can’t continue to work together after...after what happened, Drew.”
“Give me a minute.”
Assuming he was closing his office door, she gripped the phone tighter as she waited for him to return.
“Listen, I’m afraid you’re taking what we did far too seriously,” he said when he came back on the line. “I was afraid of this.”
“Afraid of what?”
“That you’d freak out and turn it into a big deal. Don’t ruin your career over fifteen minutes of panting and one good climax, Reagan.”
Fifteen minutes of panting? One good climax? Was that how he characterized what they’d done together?
She’d thought he might try to minimize the incident, tell her they could forget about it so they could continue working together. But she’d imagined he’d do that because he cared about her and wanted to remain in close contact. The throwaway tone he’d just used made her wonder if she had meant anything to him at all. “We had sex on your desk,” she said.
“Believe me, I remember.”
The satisfaction in his voice irritated her. She couldn’t detect a hint of remorse. “You’re married!”
“You knew that before it happened.”
“I did. Which is why I feel so bad.”
“Don’t feel bad. I’ll always be there for Sally and the kids.”
What did he mean by that? “Isn’t having sex with another woman the opposite of being there for Sally and the kids?” she asked. “Doesn’t that strike a blow at the very structure of your family—I mean, if word were to get out?”
“Are you threatening to tell her?” This was the first thing that seemed to trigger an emotional response. She could tell it upset him.
“No! I’m pointing out how serious what we did is.”
“Look, you can beat yourself up over it all you want. But I’m not going to do the same.” Now that she’d said she wasn’t going to tell his wife, the tone of his voice had evened out, indicating that he’d relaxed again. “We’ve worked together for a long time, and you’re a beautiful, intelligent woman. Of course I’d want you. Any man would.”
“Even if he was married.”
“Sally is happy, Reagan. I work hard and bring home a lot of money. I help out around the house. I go to everything she and the kids ask me to. I grilled burgers for some people she wanted to have over for a barbecue just yesterday. I deserve to have a little fun on my own now and then.”
Reagan couldn’t believe her ears. “A little fun?”
“I won’t lie. You’re all I’ve been able to think about—for months. So I’m glad you quit. Now that we don’t work for the same firm anymore, it’ll be easier for us to see each other. We won’t have to worry about someone here telling Sally, because no one will have any idea. We could travel. Attend the theater or the opera. Go out to eat. As long as we don’t frequent the same places everyone else around here does, we could do a lot of fun things. And I’d make sure you were well taken care of.”
She felt as though he’d just slugged her. “You mean carry on a secret affair, where I’d be the other woman.”
“You’ve never mentioned wanting a family. So does it matter what our relationship is technically called as long as we both enjoy spending time together?”
Her legs suddenly didn’t seem capable of supporting her. “Oh, my God,” she whispered as she sank down on the bed.
“Wait. Hear me out. You have no idea how great it could be. And after the way you quit this job, you’re going to need some help getting another one. I can smooth the way with Gary, so he doesn’t sue if you sign on with someone else. I can even put in a good word for you with our competitors. I bet you’ll be able to land something in the next two weeks. And if you don’t? If it takes a while to find what you’re looking for and you need help?” He lowered his voice even further. “I can be there for you, pay a few of your bills, keep you on top on things.”
Fire seemed to be consuming her from the inside out. “You told me you loved me.”
“I do love you,” he whispered. “But I love Sally, too. And my kids. You know that. I can’t blow up everything I’ve established in my life because of your guilty conscience.”
He wasn’t making any sense to her. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. Where was the Drew who’d been sensitive and kind? Funny? The most congenial of the partners? Apparently, he’d only shown her what she’d wanted to see in order to gain her interest—and now she was getting a taste of the man behind the front. “You love me, your wife and your family.”
“I do.”
“Like you love the latest hit song, or a certain flavor of ice cream or sushi at Blue Fin.”
“What are you talking about?”
Feeling slightly dizzy, Reagan put her head between her knees so she wouldn’t pass out. “Loving something and being devoted to it are two different things,” she said dully.
“Devoted to it? Come on, Reagan. Lighten up. You’re a realist. I know you are. How much devotion does one fuck deserve? Granted, it was a good fuck. A great fuck. But still.”
And if she was pregnant?