She pulled the pillow from under her head and hugged it to her. “I won’t remember. I won’t.” She pressed her face into the softness, and even as she vowed she would forget, she saw his face vividly. Tears managed to eke out of the squeezed lids as she saw him wave to her as he disappeared into the fuselage of the airplane.
“Erik, Erik,” she sobbed. “Why did you do that to me? Why?”
Did he ever think of her? What was he doing this very moment? Was he sleeping? Making love to his pretty wife? Was he stroking her with those treacherous hands and lying to her with his persuasive lips?
Did he make love to his wife as ardently as he had to Kathleen? Was she perhaps cool to his fervor? Was that why he sought lovers? Obliging ones. Like herself. Kathleen buried her shame-scalded face in the pillow.
As jealous as Kathleen was of that blonde woman who rightfully claimed Erik’s love and name, she felt a great wave of pity for her. Did she know of his unfaithfulness? Was Kathleen his first extramarital dalliance? No, of course not. He couldn’t have seduced her so smoothly, without the least shred of guilt, had he not been adept at it.
She wanted to hate him. She did hate him! But as she turned to her side and raised her knees to her chest in a position of self-protection, she ached to feel his hard, lean body next to her. She was chilled without the warmth of his embrace. One night in his bed had spoiled her to needing his strength during the night, to awakening periodically in the security of his arms, to hearing the rich, steady cadence of his breathing.
And this night, like all the others, she felt a pain, more cruel than death, eating at her, squeezing her heart, destroying her spirit.
* * *
The next morning, she got up early, ate a piece of dry toast and drank two cups of coffee as she put on her makeup. Determinedly, she shed the shroud of despair that blanketed her each night, and looked forward to her new job with renewed enthusiasm. This would save her. It must.
She chose her dress carefully. It was essential to create a good first impression with both her new employers and her subordinates. The tailored navy dress had a designer label, but she had bought it as a sample on a buying trip to New York and had paid barely a fourth of the retail cost.
It had a round, collarless neck and buttoned down the left side, over her bosom to her knee. The long sleeves were slim. It hung as a chemise, but she belted it with a copper leather belt that matched her shoes and bag. It wasn’t a coincidence that the leather was almost the exact color of her hair. A gold pin held a paisley scarf around her neck. It was a rainbow of navy, copper and green. Small gold loops were in her ears, and her hair was pulled back into a functional, professional-looking bun.
In the full-length mirror on the back of the door, she critically surveyed the results of her half-hour in the bathroom and decided that she was the best that she could be.
Having familiarized herself with the streets of San Francisco, she negotiated rush-hour traffic with only a modicum of trepidation. If she could survive Atlanta’s famous traffic jams, she could survive anything.
Arriving at the skyscraper building where the corporate headquarters was located, she identified herself to the garage attendant. He smiled at her and said, “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Kirchoff said to give you this. Stick it on the fender of your car and you can park here anytime.”
“Thank you,” she said as she drove into the dim cave of the garage.
She arrived at the twentieth floor and went into Seth’s office. As she expected, Claire Larchmont was already busy at her desk. She waved merrily, though she was speaking into the telephone cradled between her shoulder and chin.
“Right. Mr. Kirchoff said those proposals must be ready by the end of the day and subject to his approval.” She hung up. “Kathleen! This is your big day. Are you excited? Did you get moved in all right? Is there anything you need?”
Kathleen grinned. “ ‘Yes’ to the first question. ‘Yes’ to the second. And ‘I’ll let you know’ to the last.”
“I’m sorry.” Claire laughed good-naturedly. “Seth tells me all the time that I’m a motor mouth.”
“Seth? I thought it was strictly Mr. Kirchoff.”
Claire winked. “I only do that to irritate him.”
Kathleen laughed. “Is he in?”
“Not yet. This is his morning for physical therapy. He and George exercise in his pool on Mondays and Thursdays, so they’re always an hour later. Ms. Kirchoff is in there. His sister. You might as well meet her now, I suppose.”
Kathleen looked closely at Claire’s face, which had lost some of its animation.
“Oh?” Kathleen asked leadingly.
“Find out for yourself,” Claire said guardedly, and Kathleen had to respect the secretary’s reticence in talking about her employers.
“I’ll bring in some coffee,” Claire said as Kathleen’s hand closed around the doorknob.
She pushed the door open and went into the room, seeing immediately the straight back of the woman standing at the window. Kathleen closed the door behind her so that the latch clicked audibly to alert Ms. Kirchoff that she wasn’t alone.
“Claire?” she asked, and turned around on the heels of her pumps. “Oh,” was her only comment when she saw that she had made a mistake.