Truth being she could and without guilt. She and David were divorced. No. No. Her brain and her body both needed to rein it in.

“You really are preoccupied. Goodness, Lanie. I don’t know if coffee is the answer. Maybe a good stiff shot is the correct therapy.” He grinned at her after placing the cup on the table and took the seat across from her. She noted how his left eye crinkled when he smiled. And she studied the slight lift in his corresponding eyebrow.

Damn she needed to stop appraising him and imprinting it to her memory. Can anyone say, ‘hopeless and pathetic’? “You mentioned you are a bartender. Not that I get out to bars much, but where do you work?” she prompted. Put him in the hot seat. Guide the conversation onto him.

Lifting his head, he eyed her and twisted his lips. “You assume I’m employed at the equivalent of a popular weekend or college bar. I started out at both. I currently manage the restaurant bar at Raphael’s. In The Summit.”

Ouch. She shoved her foot in her mouth sideways on that assumption. Of course, he didn’t work at a dive bar or a dance club. The Summit happened to be the most luxurious and prestigious hotel in the city. The notorious penthouses hosted high-profile parties. She and David had dinner at Raphael’s on one of their anniversaries.

“I’m sure it is satisfying work. Raphael’s certainly is fine dining and provides a flawless atmosphere,” she remarked in a convincing tone hoping he overlooked her previously faux pas.

He chuckled. “It pays the bills and I’ve been doing it long enough now that I swear I could do it in my sleep and even under substantial anesthesia.” He took a swallow of his coffee and she concentrated on his mouth. Besides his straight, white teeth, he had full lips for a man. She thought about how warm and soft and dominating they would be on her smaller, thinner mouth. “And what is it you do, Lanie?” he said interrupting her musings. Yep, musings—not fantasies.

Hmm. What did she do? No matter how she answered, she would sound boring and indulged. “I put my career on hold when I had my son.” She shrugged. “He is a sophomore in college now and I guess I haven’t found myself again.” She doubted she ever would. It’s not as if she could go back to work in her career field after a twenty-year absence. Technology had changed. The world had changed. She couldn’t compete with the recent graduates.

“That’s admirable. My mother did the same for me. And I thank her for it often. While other parents had to juggle their schedules to attend games and events, I could depend on her. It never caused arguments between my parents that my friends often complained did occur in their two income or two career households.”

She appreciated his rationalization of her past choices, but it failed to alleviate her current unease over it. Besides Hunter, she had nothing interesting to talk about. In the last twenty years, she had carpooled field trips, enrolled Hunter in any activity he expressed any interest in, never missed a single game, and didn’t regret it. He grew up to be a self-assured, ambitious, kind, and well-rounded young man. “I am a very proud mother,” she stated.

“And he is a lucky son. Again, I’m trying to not be intrusive, but you aren’t wearing a wedding ring. I apologize if you lost your —”

Interrupting him by laughing unexpectedly, she quickly clarified, “No…no. I lost him but not by death.” Damn if she didn’t sound bitter and pitiful. “Actually, he and I divorced amicably. It had been a long time coming. And it forces him to maintain a relationship with our son on his own. He can no longer depend on me to stand-in for both of us and make excuses for him.”

From there her and Gavin’s conversation came easy. They discussed travel, movies, music, and whatever topic launched from those subjects. He traveled rather extensively, as had she, and both agreed Tuscany achieved a spot on each of their list of top three favorite destinations. Hearing about his love of snowboarding and scuba diving reminded her of the gap in their ages. Other than his enjoyment of what she labeled bolder adrenaline-charged activities, it felt comfortable sitting with him and talking and laughing.

His cell phone rang and stalled their animated and cordial debate over the best ‘James Bond’ actor. Pulling it from his back jeans pocket, he read the screen. “Oh shit. I have to take this,” he said. She listened to him apologize to someone and advise he would be there soon. Digging her phone out of her purse, she saw the time. They had been talking for over an hour.

She also had several text messages and a missed call from Beverly. Beverly happened to be her closest and longest friend. They met eighteen years ago at the first company party she attended with David when they moved into the area. Odd though that Beverly contacted her so many times that day. They just spoke earlier.

Long, tanned fingers veiled hers, snatching her attention from her phone. “I have to go. I seriously lost track of the time and I have an appointment with a vendor,” Gavin explained.

As if he owed her an explanation. She counted herself as lucky to have met him and have a coffee together. “Yes. Go. You said you had an appointment.” She waved him off.

Placing his elbows on the table and leaning across it, he tilted his head slightly and prompted, “So, no husband. Your delectable purchase is intended for a fortunate boyfriend?”

His touch stunted her brain. She couldn’t form a coherent thought. She couldn’t speak a word. Her thighs clenched. And she liked it. A warmth spread through her igniting sensations forgotten and unfamiliar. Their entire interaction was unnerving. Beyond the norm. Seriously questionable. And she didn’t have to answer his probing line of questioning. Nope. None of his business.

“Again, out of line.” He tapped on his phone and urged, “Give me your number. I’d like to text you. Call you. Maybe even see you again. And this way…it will be up to you if you respond. No pressure.”

Of course, she rattled off her number. Possibly a tad bit eagerly. The situation didn’t force her to commit to anything. So…she had nothing to lose—at the moment. “Now, go on to your meeting. It was nice meeting you.”

So, he had her number. Not as if she expected he would ever contact her. Not as if she imagined what would transpire if he did. Okay, she did. But reality and fantasy rarely match up. Someone said. Not her.

* * *

Circling awayfrom the filling tub to put the foaming bath back in the basket with her dozens of other products, her phone screen illuminated. She received more calls and texts that day than she had in the last month. Reaching for the device, she saw a text from a local number, but not one of her contacts. So, she set it back on the counter and went to climb into a hot bath with a glass of wine.

She had the urge to celebrate.Small victories.

Not that she isolated herself, watched silly chick flicks, and binged on ice cream since David moved out six months prior. She had however avoided certain situations and establishments. Specifically, any in which she could encounter David, or David and Denise. But she bought herself some items to boost her self-esteem, met a great guy, and had fun that day. And it felt good. Really good.

In ten days, Tom and Martha, joint friends of her and David, were marrying in a small, private ceremony. After, their intimate nuptials, they planned a huge reception at the country club. The same country club they all were members of. The same country club she continued to meet up with her gal pals and sucked at tennis weekly. The same country club that had been a huge part of her life for eighteen years.

Sinking deeper into the tub, she savored the soothing aroma of the bubbles and their gentle swathing of her shoulders, her neck, and fizzing at her ears. She dreaded attending the reception. Oh, did she. At least she had friends going. Knowing them, they would emphasize the awkwardness of the ‘reunion’ of her, David, and Denise and smother her with over-attentiveness and their adopted mama hen roles during the evening.

Ick. Sucking down some wine, she closed her eyes and tried to relax. She would attend with her head held high. Be bigger than others. In grace and in confidence.

Hence the buying of a garter, hose, bra, and panties. She would enter the festive gala poised. Dolled up hair and makeup. A classic, flattering little black dress. Along with her daring, lurid undergarments. It would be her little secret. Lifting her glass of wine to her lips, she regretted never having a ‘little secret’. She had always been simply—Elaine… Lanie. Always the loyal friend. The loudest cheerleader. The dutiful wife. The doting mother.

Tags: Sheri Lynn Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net