Swimming Naked

by Laura Branchflower

  “You’re two hours late,” he snarled.

  “I was in a meeting.” She pressed her hand against the wall as she slipped off her shoes. “I could make it up to you if you’d like.”

  “Don’t play with me.”

  “I’m not playing,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You can take me right here.”

  “Next time you tell me you’re going to be home at a certain time, you better fucking be home,” he warned before slamming out of her apartment.

  “Phil?” Lina’s sleep-filled voice greeted him when he stepped into the kitchen from the mudroom.

  He crossed to the family room, where she was lying on the couch under a comforter. “What are you doing down here?”

  “I fell asleep.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Where’s your shirt?”

  He looked down at his undershirt. “It got wet when I was rinsing applesauce off of him.”

  “You took it off in her apartment.”

  “Yes.”

  “And then you left it there?”

  “Not intentionally. I was in a hurry to get out of there.”

  “She saw you like that?”

  “I was drenched. Would you prefer I spend the evening in a wet shirt?”

  “Yes. I think I would.” She got up from the couch and headed for the front of the house.

  “Lina?” He jogged to catch up with her. “Come on.” He caught her arm as they reached the stairs. “Don’t be like this.”

  “Like what?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Upset that you took your shirt off at another woman’s house or that you left your shirt at another woman’s house?”

  “Do you really think if I took off my shirt to fuck her, I’d leave it there?” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. The pain in her eyes was like a knife in his heart. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t follow me,” she said before fleeing up the stairs.

  He gripped the banister, staring down at the floor as he mentally berated himself for his insensitivity. “Fuck.”

  “Dad?”

  He lifted his eyes to find Logan, looking half asleep, standing at the top of the staircase. “What are you doing up?”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why was Mom upset?”

  “We just had a misunderstanding. It’s nothing for you to worry about.” He began to ascend the stairs. “It’s late,” he said when he reached the top. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”

  “She told you not to follow her,” Logan said, shifting slightly so he blocked his path.

  “Go to bed, Logan.”

  Logan shook his head, a blush staining his cheeks. “She said—”

  “This is between me and your mother,” Phil interrupted, trying to keep a rein on his temper. “Get out of my way. I’m not going to tell you again.”

  “It’s okay, Logan,” Lina called out from down the hall. “I’m fine.”

  Phil waited for her to go back into their bedroom before returning his attention to Logan. “I know you mean well,” he said, “but don’t ever try to block my path again. Is that clear?” His eyes widened as he stared into Logan’s eyes. “Is it?”

  “Yeah,” Logan answered, dropping his gaze.

  Lina was in their bed, curled onto her side facing away from the door, when Phil entered their bedroom. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive and thoughtless.”

  “I just want to go to sleep.”

  “Baby—”

  “It’s one o’clock in the morning. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

  When he stretched out beside her ten minutes later, he knew she was still awake. She was holding her body too stiffly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said as he curved his body into the back of hers. “The thought of her—of being with her—repulses me. I forget that you aren’t in my head, knowing how I feel. Forgive me.” He felt her body relax back into his.

  “It’s just—the way you said it. It made me think about the times you were with her and then you got dressed and came home to me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I hate that you have to see her—that you talk to her.”

  “I know.” He tightened his hold around her. “I don’t like seeing her either. You know that, right?”

  “Yes.”

  ***

  By the time Lina got herself out of bed and into the shower the following morning it was almost eleven, so she took the day off, deciding to catch up on errands before the long holiday weekend. She was in Phil’s wardrobe, gathering his suits to take to the dry cleaner, when she felt a slip of paper in the interior pocket of one of his jackets. Her heart began to pound when she realized it was a receipt from Victoria’s Secret. She let the jacket fall to the floor as she left his wardrobe, her eyes glued to the paper in her hand. He’d spent three hundred and eighty dollars at a women’s lingerie store.

  She sat down on the end of the bed, her hand shaking slightly as she continued to stare at the receipt. It was a memento from his time with Kim. There was no other explanation. A wave of nausea hit her at the thought of him choosing sexy lingerie for his mistress. She crinkled the paper up in her hand. It was over. She wasn’t going to let her mind go back there. Forward. Phil had said they would move forward together. She would throw it away and not give it another moment of her energy.

  The receipt was still clenched in her fist when she stepped out into the garage. Her mind became her enemy, suddenly desiring to know what Phil had bought Kim. She opened her hand, staring at the crumpled ball of paper in her palm. Instead of tossing it into the trash can, she carefully opened the receipt.

  He’d bought her three items, but Lina couldn’t make out what they were from the abbreviations. The receipt was from the Victoria’s Secret in the Inner Harbor. It was walking distance from his office. The time stamp on the receipt was twelve thirty in the afternoon. He’d left his office and gone to a lingerie store in the middle of a workday. Anger bubbled in her chest at the thought of him carrying a bag of gifts for Kim into his law office. The purchases had been made in April. A little more than a year ago. No. She caught her breath when her eyes zeroed in on the date. The receipt wasn’t a year old. It was a month old.

  Chapter Ten

  He’d bought the lingerie a month earlier. He’d been living with her at the time. Her mind searched for an explanation. A lump formed in her throat. Maybe it was for her. But if that were the case, why hadn’t he given it to her yet? Her mind spun with endless possibilities. Anxiety clawed at her insides. No. He wasn’t having an affair. She knew it, and yet the unease wouldn’t let up. She recalled the look of concern in his eyes that morning when he asked her if they were okay. They were okay. She knew that with every fiber of her being. Their connection was strong.

  She took the receipt back into the house, did her best to flatten out the wrinkles, and took a picture of it with her cell phone. Seconds later she was sending a copy of it to Phil.

  What is this?

  She stared at her phone, gripping it between her hands. After ten minutes with no response she called his office. “Hi, Anne. It’s Lina Hunter. Is he in?” Her heart was beating so hard she felt like it could burst through her chest.

  “Hi, Mrs. Hunter. He is, but he’s in a meeting with a client.”

  “Would you give him a message for me please? It’s—it’s urgent.”

  “Oh, if it’s urgent I can interrupt—”

  “No. I don’t need to talk to him. Just tell him to read the message I sent him and that I’m waiting for his reply. Thanks.”

  ***

  Phil was in the conference room, going through the terms of a real-estate contract with one of the firm’s largest clients, when his secretary poked her head into the room. “Can it wait thirty minutes?” he asked, annoyed at the interruption. She knew better than to disturb him when he was with a client.

  “I’m sorry, but your wife said it was
urgent.”

  “Continue without me,” he told one of his associates before excusing himself and following Anne out into the hallway. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. She just said it was urgent that you read her text and send her a reply.” She held out his cell phone, which he had left on his desk.

  He tapped in his passcode before opening Lina’s message. His eyes narrowed in confusion as he looked at the receipt from Victoria’s Secret. He lifted his gaze back to Anne, who was nervously watching him. “She told you this was urgent?”

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “Could you have misunderstood her?”

  “No. I don’t think so. She seemed upset.”

  He gripped his chin, once again staring at the picture. He had no idea what he was supposed to make of it. “What did she say exactly?”

  “That it was urgent you read her message, and she’s awaiting your reply.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you.” He was torn between getting back to his meeting and finding out what in the hell was going on with Lina. It seemed like a joke, but he couldn’t be sure.

  I’m in the middle of a meeting, baby. I think I’m missing a text or two. I have no idea what that receipt means.

  Her reply took less than five seconds. It was in the interior pocket of your charcoal suit jacket.

  You must be mistaken. I’ve never been in that store. Could we talk about this later? I need to get back to my meeting.

  He watched the blinking bubbles alerting him she was drafting her reply. I found it in your pocket. The store is near your office. How did it get in your pocket if it isn’t yours?

  It hit him then that she believed he’d been shopping at a women’s lingerie store. He rubbed the back of his neck. I have no idea, but it’s not mine. I’ve got to get back to my meeting. I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.

  ***

  Lina stripped off her gardening gloves as she watched Phil’s BMW disappear into the garage. Since their brief flurry of text messages, she’d managed to push the receipt from her mind and lose herself in her gardens, pruning and planting flowers and taking advantage of a beautiful spring day. As she watched Phil emerge from the garage, her anxiety over what the receipt meant came back in full force.

  “You’re early.”

  “Why didn’t you answer your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for two hours.”

  “I was gardening.” She wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. “I still have more to do.”

  “What’s going on?” He hooked his finger into the belt loop of her cutoff jean shorts when she began to turn away. “I don’t get a kiss?”

  “I’ll get you dirty,” she said, pressing her hands against his chest as she attempted to keep him at bay.

  “I don’t care.” He tugged her closer, curving his free hand around her jaw. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. That receipt is not mine.”

  “Then what was it doing in your pocket?” She wanted to believe him, but the evidence didn’t support what he was saying.

  “Did you look at the date on it? We were in Paris. We didn’t come home until the following day.”

  “Paris,” she repeated. It wasn’t his receipt. She could feel the tension leave her body. “How did it get in your pocket?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not mine.”

  She slipped her hands beneath his suit jacket and wrapped her arms around him as she pressed her cheek into his upper chest, no longer concerned with soiling his suit. “I didn’t think it was,” she whispered, “but then I was afraid I was being naive.”

  “No.” He engulfed her in his arms. “I’ve never stepped into one of those stores. And if I did, it would only be for you.” He brushed his lips over her temple. “Someone is messing with us.”

  “Who?” She pulled back enough to look up at him. “It’s not even funny. It ruined my day.”

  “I don’t know. But someone put it there.”

  As soon as Phil saw the jacket lying on the end of the bed, his jaw tightened and his hands clenched at his sides. “It was Kim. It’s the jacket I left at her place.”

  “Kim?” Lina repeated.

  He yanked off his tie as he headed for his wardrobe. He fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally just ripping it open.

  “What are you doing?” Lina asked from the doorway, her eyes on the buttons that had fallen to the floor.

  “This isn’t okay.” He began to unclasp his belt. “She’s not getting away with it.” He was out of his pants and stepping into khaki shorts. His eyes were hard and his jaw firm. “She’s pushed me too far.” He crouched down to put on his running shoes, quickly lacing them.

  “You need to calm down.”

  He brushed past her as he left the wardrobe, shrugging into a T-shirt as he headed for the door.

  “Phil, stop,” Lina called out, rushing after him. “You have to talk to me.”

  “We’ll talk when I get back.” he said, not slowing his stride as he descended the stairs. He was in the mudroom and pulling open the door to the garage before Lina caught up to him.

  “Stop!” she cried.

  “I have to do this,” he said, pausing in the doorway. “First the late call, then last night, and now this. I’m putting a fucking end to it.”

  “Any time she gets you to come to her and leave me, she’s winning.”

  “She isn’t—”

  “You’re not leaving your family at three thirty on a Friday afternoon for God knows how long to confront her about something that’s already happened. She’s stolen last night from us and most of today. She’s not taking another minute of my weekend.”

  “Lina—”

  “No.” She pressed her hands into his chest. “You’re not leaving.”

  He released a breath and she could almost see the anger draining from him. “I don’t want her to get away with this.”

  “She isn’t. We figured it out. And next time I will automatically assume she’s trying to hurt me and I won’t let her.”

  The sound of a car had them both looking to the driveway. Lina felt Phil’s body tense under her hands when Nick Drayton’s Porsche came into view. “Fuck me,” he growled.

  “Don’t,” Lina whispered. “He’s just dropping off Brian.”

  The passenger door opened and Brian emerged, and then to Lina’s dread the driver’s door opened and Nick emerged. He looked tan and relaxed in jeans and a short-sleeved black crewneck, sunglasses concealing his eyes. He gave Brian a quick hug and seemed to be about to get back into his car when he spotted them.

  “Hey, Hunters,” Brian said, coming into the garage.

  “Hi, sweetie, Logan’s in the pool.” Lina forced a smile.

  As soon as Brian was in the house, Phil was disentangling himself from Lina and stalking out of the garage. “Get back in your fucking car and get out of here,” he barked, rounding Nick’s car and stopping within feet of him.

  “Phil! Stop!” Lina rushed to his side, wedging herself between them. “Don’t take your mood out on him.”

  “Get out of here!” Phil snarled. “And next time stay in your fucking car.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lina managed to say to Nick before gripping Phil’s arm and propelling him back toward the house. She sagged with relief when she heard the engine of Nick’s car.

  ***

  Phil feigned left, sending Brian diving into the grass before swinging to the right and launching the lacrosse ball into the back of the net. “Game,” he shouted, swiping his hand down his sweat-drenched face as he headed toward the sideline of the quarter-size lacrosse field in their backyard and the pitcher of lemonade Lina had delivered earlier.

  “Great shot, Dad,” Logan said, jogging up beside him. “You schooled him.”

  “Yeah,” Phil agreed, knowing his days of schooling Brian Drayton were quickly drawing to an end. T
he kid was too good. Pairing him with Mike for their two-on-two scrimmage had basically been a handicap. “Why don’t you go see if your uncle is okay,” Phil said, looking back over his shoulder at his brother, who was lying flat on his back in the middle of the field.

  “I want a rematch,” Brian said, joining them. He took the cup of lemonade Phil handed him, bringing it to his mouth and finishing it in several long swallows. “You only beat me by three.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Phil said. “When you’re my age you need a recovery period.”

  “No way,” Brian said. “You’re more fit than anyone. You’d probably still be the best player on a college team.”

  “I doubt that,” Phil said. “But I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  He raised his eyebrows at his brother, who had finally come to his feet. “You’re forty-four, not eighty-four,” he called out as Mike lumbered over toward them. Like Phil, Mike had played D1 lacrosse in college, but unlike Phil, who had carved out the time to exercise in the ensuing years, Mike only exercised sporadically and carried a few extra pounds around his middle.

  “I didn’t eat enough this morning,” Mike complained.

  “Are you sure?” Phil asked dryly. “You don’t look like someone who would miss a meal.”

  “All I had was a cinnamon roll,” he said, either not hearing Phil’s unsubtle insult or choosing to ignore it.

  Phil’s attention shifted from Mike when he noticed Lina walking across the grass toward them wearing cutoff jean shorts and a tank top. His gaze lingered on her long tan legs, remembering how they’d been wrapped around him that morning. His body instantly came to attention.

  “Are you staying for lunch, Mike?” Lina asked, reaching for the empty pitcher. “We have plenty.”

  Phil caught her around the middle and pulled her back against him.

  “Stop. You’re sweaty.”

  “I know.” He pulled her closer instead of releasing her. “I don’t mind.” He dropped a kiss on the side of her neck.