away.
“I can’t think when you kiss me.”
“Then don’t.”
He pushed her back gently, grasped both of her hands in his, stretched out her arms against the wall, and kissed her deeply.
“There now,” he said.
Before she could speak, he kissed her again, longer, and pressed himself against her. For a moment she imagined they were horizontal.
“You said you practice yoga to still your mind,” he said quietly.
“Somehow I don’t think this is what the yoga masters have in mind.”
He stepped back, took out a handkerchief, and wiped the smudge of lipstick from her face. Then he wiped his lips. He looked at the pink stain on the handkerchief.
“Now I’ll have you with me all day. Are you free this weekend?” he asked.
She looked at him pensively, in a quandary about how she could possibly keep her concentration in the office when he was present. Her insides were in an uproar.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll call you tonight,” he said.
She returned to the conference room and finished organizing the documents as prescribed by Jack before he had blown her concentration to smithereens.
Before I allowed him to,
she corrected herself. She heard him take a call and listened intently, just to hear the deep resonance of his voice. Rand Taylor was returning his call.
“Rand, I have good news.” Jack closed his door with a shove and she could hear no more. She collected her wits, boxed up the documents, and carried them to the paralegal office.
Simone looked up as Mercedes entered, acknowledged her with a nod, and kept dictating. Lindsay was on the phone, trying valiantly to be understood by a non-native English speaker. She repeated her phrases several times, each more slowly than the previous. Mercedes set the box of documents on her desk, sat down, put on fresh lipstick, and deciphered the notes she had scrawled. The drone of voices and Lindsay’s patience calmed her.
L ATER THAT EVENING, she listened to a mockingbird on the lamppost outside and noted that Jack had not called. It was actually a relief. He was a whirlpool, spinning her world, pulling her in, and she was tired of reacting to him.
If Jack were as sincere and smitten with her as he acted—a huge
if
—then the door might open to other possibilities. But if he wasn’t, it was pure lunacy to submit to all the turmoil and to certain heartbreak. She might as well put her head back on the chopping block where she’d put it for Eddy.
She was in her bathrobe, brushing her teeth when the phone rang. On the fourth ring she picked it up.
“Hi. Sorry about calling so late, but I was with clients and time got away from us.”
“It’s an odd time to be with clients.”
“It’s a family I’ve known for many years. The father died this week. I prepared the estate plan and there’s a lot of drama among the heirs over the will. Anyway, I did try calling before we got started, but the line was busy.”
“I guess you get pretty entangled with families in estate planning. I never really thought about it.”
“How was your day?”
“Germaine got the invitation of her lifetime, to Disneyland. She’s out of her mind with excitement.”
“That’s like winning the lottery for a kid. How did this come about?”
“One of her friends from school invited her to go with their family. I can’t believe their generosity.”
“You’d do it if your fortunes were reversed.”
“That’s true.”
“And Germaine is a special girl.”
“You haven’t even met her.”
“I’ve seen the evidence.” He was tired too and his voice was even deeper than usual.
“You see a lot of things.”
“May I see
you
this weekend?”
“Why don’t you come over for dinner on Saturday?”
“That’d be great. I don’t know when I last ate a real home-cooked meal.”
“Six o’clock Saturday then.”
A T 6:05 ON SATURDAY NIGHT, Jack stood on the front stoop of the pink palace in a black golf shirt and khakis, holding a bouquet of blue irises in
“I can’t think when you kiss me.”
“Then don’t.”
He pushed her back gently, grasped both of her hands in his, stretched out her arms against the wall, and kissed her deeply.
“There now,” he said.
Before she could speak, he kissed her again, longer, and pressed himself against her. For a moment she imagined they were horizontal.
“You said you practice yoga to still your mind,” he said quietly.
“Somehow I don’t think this is what the yoga masters have in mind.”
He stepped back, took out a handkerchief, and wiped the smudge of lipstick from her face. Then he wiped his lips. He looked at the pink stain on the handkerchief.
“Now I’ll have you with me all day. Are you free this weekend?” he asked.
She looked at him pensively, in a quandary about how she could possibly keep her concentration in the office when he was present. Her insides were in an uproar.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll call you tonight,” he said.
She returned to the conference room and finished organizing the documents as prescribed by Jack before he had blown her concentration to smithereens.
Before I allowed him to,
she corrected herself. She heard him take a call and listened intently, just to hear the deep resonance of his voice. Rand Taylor was returning his call.
“Rand, I have good news.” Jack closed his door with a shove and she could hear no more. She collected her wits, boxed up the documents, and carried them to the paralegal office.
Simone looked up as Mercedes entered, acknowledged her with a nod, and kept dictating. Lindsay was on the phone, trying valiantly to be understood by a non-native English speaker. She repeated her phrases several times, each more slowly than the previous. Mercedes set the box of documents on her desk, sat down, put on fresh lipstick, and deciphered the notes she had scrawled. The drone of voices and Lindsay’s patience calmed her.
L ATER THAT EVENING, she listened to a mockingbird on the lamppost outside and noted that Jack had not called. It was actually a relief. He was a whirlpool, spinning her world, pulling her in, and she was tired of reacting to him.
If Jack were as sincere and smitten with her as he acted—a huge
if
—then the door might open to other possibilities. But if he wasn’t, it was pure lunacy to submit to all the turmoil and to certain heartbreak. She might as well put her head back on the chopping block where she’d put it for Eddy.
She was in her bathrobe, brushing her teeth when the phone rang. On the fourth ring she picked it up.
“Hi. Sorry about calling so late, but I was with clients and time got away from us.”
“It’s an odd time to be with clients.”
“It’s a family I’ve known for many years. The father died this week. I prepared the estate plan and there’s a lot of drama among the heirs over the will. Anyway, I did try calling before we got started, but the line was busy.”
“I guess you get pretty entangled with families in estate planning. I never really thought about it.”
“How was your day?”
“Germaine got the invitation of her lifetime, to Disneyland. She’s out of her mind with excitement.”
“That’s like winning the lottery for a kid. How did this come about?”
“One of her friends from school invited her to go with their family. I can’t believe their generosity.”
“You’d do it if your fortunes were reversed.”
“That’s true.”
“And Germaine is a special girl.”
“You haven’t even met her.”
“I’ve seen the evidence.” He was tired too and his voice was even deeper than usual.
“You see a lot of things.”
“May I see
you
this weekend?”
“Why don’t you come over for dinner on Saturday?”
“That’d be great. I don’t know when I last ate a real home-cooked meal.”
“Six o’clock Saturday then.”
A T 6:05 ON SATURDAY NIGHT, Jack stood on the front stoop of the pink palace in a black golf shirt and khakis, holding a bouquet of blue irises in
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