overlooking the river and Manhattan beyond, was four thousand a month. Michael rolled his friend into a crumpled king-sized bed, then stripped, found a towel and took a long, steaming shower. He dried himself off and stretched out on Mark’s sofa, looking out at the lights of New York. He was exhausted. He squinted at his watch, pushed a few buttons, and set the alarm. 5 o’clock. Even that would be pushing it. Was Toronto considered international? Would he need to be there even earlier? It didn’t matter. As drained as his body was, he was wide awake. After an hour of tossing, he got up, threw his rumpled clothes back on, and drove to the airport. He went through security, checked in, and sat, reading Gordon Prescott’s script, and thinking about Diane.
Diane spent the whole of Sunday working outside. It exhausted her, which is what she had hoped for. The large patch of ground where the azalea had been was going to be a rose garden, she had decided. Since the cutting down of the old maple last fall, she finally had an open, sunny spot in her yard. She cleared the smaller brush, transplanted the pachysandra, and worked bags of peat moss and compost into the soil. When Emily and Megan returned from their father’s at seven that evening, her muscles hurt and she felt she could fall asleep standing upright.
She had had trouble sleeping the night before. She kept thinking about Michael. There was not a thing about him she did not find desirable. He was bright. He made her laugh. He was thoughtful and sensitive. He was obviously crazy about his family. And when he kissed her, she wanted to tear all his clothes off. She hadn’t felt that strong a physical attraction in a long time. She kept feeling his mouth against her skin, and she finally closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers between her legs until she brought herself to a quick, hard climax. Only then could she sleep.
The girls obviously quarreled at their father’s, and it came home with them. Diane was not in the mood. She kept hearing them snipe at each other, and it set her teeth on edge. When Sue Griffen called and suggested a walk, she readily agreed, despite her aching legs. She shouted up to the girls where she was going, and walked outside. Sue was coming down the street, Sharon Ingoe beside her. Sharon was short and sturdy, with legs like tree trunks beneath her shorts, her gray hair cut short. She lived down the street from Diane and Sue, and had known them for years.
Sue waited until Diane got in step with them before she elbowed her friend.
“So? Did he call? Did you see him? Tell us. Sharon knows all about it. What happened?”
Diane gave them a sketchy version of the day before. She told them about Rachel. Her two friends listened without a word. When she was finished, they had walked several blocks, and were in the children’s playground. Sue stopped at a bench and sat down, looking at Diane in amazement.
“Holy shit. You met his family and everything? And you have another date? I can’t believe it.” Sue grabbed Sharon’s arm as the woman sat beside her. “And he’s a doll. I mean it. His face is beautiful. And he’s got the body of a little Greek god.”
Sharon was puffing. “I know what he looks like. My Jack plays those guys 24/7.”
Diane was walking back and forth in front of them.
“Diane, sit and speak.” Sharon patted the bench beside her. “I need details.” She turned at looked at Sue, saying excitedly, “This is just like Danielle Steele.”
Sue shook her head. “Not quite. If this was Danielle Steel, he’d be much taller and Diane would be an exiled Bulgarian princess. But it’s still pretty good.”
“What about Rachel?” Diane looked at her two friends. “She’s angry at me for some reason.”
Sharon waved her hand. “Of course she is. She’s been panting after the guy since she was what, fifteen? I remember the last time they gave a concert here. Rachel drove you crazy. She had Mickey Flynn posters
Diane spent the whole of Sunday working outside. It exhausted her, which is what she had hoped for. The large patch of ground where the azalea had been was going to be a rose garden, she had decided. Since the cutting down of the old maple last fall, she finally had an open, sunny spot in her yard. She cleared the smaller brush, transplanted the pachysandra, and worked bags of peat moss and compost into the soil. When Emily and Megan returned from their father’s at seven that evening, her muscles hurt and she felt she could fall asleep standing upright.
She had had trouble sleeping the night before. She kept thinking about Michael. There was not a thing about him she did not find desirable. He was bright. He made her laugh. He was thoughtful and sensitive. He was obviously crazy about his family. And when he kissed her, she wanted to tear all his clothes off. She hadn’t felt that strong a physical attraction in a long time. She kept feeling his mouth against her skin, and she finally closed her eyes and rubbed her fingers between her legs until she brought herself to a quick, hard climax. Only then could she sleep.
The girls obviously quarreled at their father’s, and it came home with them. Diane was not in the mood. She kept hearing them snipe at each other, and it set her teeth on edge. When Sue Griffen called and suggested a walk, she readily agreed, despite her aching legs. She shouted up to the girls where she was going, and walked outside. Sue was coming down the street, Sharon Ingoe beside her. Sharon was short and sturdy, with legs like tree trunks beneath her shorts, her gray hair cut short. She lived down the street from Diane and Sue, and had known them for years.
Sue waited until Diane got in step with them before she elbowed her friend.
“So? Did he call? Did you see him? Tell us. Sharon knows all about it. What happened?”
Diane gave them a sketchy version of the day before. She told them about Rachel. Her two friends listened without a word. When she was finished, they had walked several blocks, and were in the children’s playground. Sue stopped at a bench and sat down, looking at Diane in amazement.
“Holy shit. You met his family and everything? And you have another date? I can’t believe it.” Sue grabbed Sharon’s arm as the woman sat beside her. “And he’s a doll. I mean it. His face is beautiful. And he’s got the body of a little Greek god.”
Sharon was puffing. “I know what he looks like. My Jack plays those guys 24/7.”
Diane was walking back and forth in front of them.
“Diane, sit and speak.” Sharon patted the bench beside her. “I need details.” She turned at looked at Sue, saying excitedly, “This is just like Danielle Steele.”
Sue shook her head. “Not quite. If this was Danielle Steel, he’d be much taller and Diane would be an exiled Bulgarian princess. But it’s still pretty good.”
“What about Rachel?” Diane looked at her two friends. “She’s angry at me for some reason.”
Sharon waved her hand. “Of course she is. She’s been panting after the guy since she was what, fifteen? I remember the last time they gave a concert here. Rachel drove you crazy. She had Mickey Flynn posters
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