by Anya Sharpe
He runs a hand through his hair and makes a face.
“I stink. Fell asleep at my desk. Crashed for more than an hour. Let me grab a quick shower. Go back to sleep, babe.”
“Sure. Derrick?”
He turns toward me at the bathroom door, eyes trained on the floor. “Yeah?”
“We’re talking about this tomorrow. Got it?”
He releases a heavy sigh. “Sure.”
The last thing I hear is the shower running.
****
I wake before seven and notice Derrick’s not in bed. Did the guy even sleep last night? I struggle to remember, but the sleeping pill knocked me out before he finished his shower. Then, I smell the aroma of coffee brewing and smile.
Quickly getting out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on over my tank top, I hurry to the kitchen.
A cup sits next to the coffee maker—along with a note.
Babe—had to leave early. I promise I will be home for dinner tonight. No later than six. We’ll work things out. Love you. D.
“Huh.”
I’m a combination of happy, hurt and angry. In a daze, I fix a cup of coffee and head to the shower, praying he’ll make an effort to straighten things out with me. The heaviness residing in my chest eases a bit.
I hope I’m right.
Chapter Six
Erynne
Just after six, Derrick walks through the front door wearing a tenuous smile. We’re both uneasy—a first in our marriage.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey.”
Well, this is awkward.
“Lemme change and I’ll open some wine. Dinner smells good.” He leans in and kisses me before he heads into the bedroom. I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Then, I say a little prayer. Please let everything be okay.
Someone above was listening. During dinner, I had Derrick’s complete attention. The awkwardness he greeted me with didn’t stick around.
“About the other night, babe. I can’t apologize enough. I was an ass, and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.” We settle in on the sofa, and Derrick takes my hands in his, looking me straight in the eye as he speaks. He means every word. Tight knots loosen inside me, and I manage a small smile.
“It was bad, yes. Derrick, you need to tell me what’s going on. This isn’t normal behavior. You’ve never been this way with other big cases. Ever.” I search his face for clues as he contemplates his answer.
“I can’t…I can’t explain it. This is different. Complicated.” He’s sad and defeated.
“I don’t understand.”
“No. You don’t. You…can’t.” What does that mean?
“Derrick…”
“I love you, Erynne. Be patient, please?” He leans over, cups my face in his hands and kisses me. Soft at first, gradually becoming more intense. I’ve missed his touch.
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he groans. A darkness passes over him, a desperation in his tone and touch, and he squeezes his eyes closed. “I need you, baby.” His lips move along my neck, nibbling and teasing me. “Please…it’s been too long. I need you.”
My pulse quickens, and a throb builds deep inside me. It has been a long time.
“Yes,” I say with a low moan.
Without hesitation, Derrick lifts me into his arms and carries me into the bedroom. He slides his hands down to my waist, tugs at my T-shirt, gliding it up and off me. His hands press into my naked breasts, thumbs tracing the hardened peaks.
“God, Erynne…can’t wait. Have to be inside you.” The words come out sounding like a growl. His gaze locks onto mine as he laps at a nipple, then closes his mouth to suck hard. The sensation coursing through me is my undoing. He’s barely touched me tonight, and I’m already on the edge.
“Now, Derrick.” Any other time, the desperation I hear in my own voice would sound pitiful. In this moment, I could care less. I am desperate for him.
Clothes fly everywhere. Derrick pins me to the bed, securing my hands above my head. His other hand slides along my body, leaving a trail of tingly goosebumps in its wake. My breath hitches as he goes lower, lower, until he reaches my aching center, then drags two fingers across my wetness, rubbing my clit. With only a few strokes I’m shouting his name into the stillness of our apartment.
“Please, Derrick…” I can’t help but beg, followed by a stream of unintelligible sounds, which set him off. In an instant, his hand is on my hip holding me still as he thrusts deep into me.
“Fuck, Erynne… So, so good.” He shudders beneath me moving slowly, then picking up his pace.
“Yeah.” I manage to breathe out the one syllable word as he pounds into me like a man starving. It’s as if he’s possessed, because there’s nothing gentle about any of this. His sweat creates moisture between our two bodies, the slickness allowing us to move together. His mouth tracks to my neck and throat, where he kisses and bites and teases.
“Derrick…I’m gonna…” The mounting urgency hits fast. I’m going to come undone at any moment.
“Do it. Come for me. Now. Now.” Powerful thrusts rock the bed, the headboard crashing into the wall.
I do. Hard. The moan I let out ricochets through the room.
“God. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuuuck…” His dick is a piece of granite, hardening more than ever. Derrick’s uncharacteristic roughness and control has flipped a switch, but I don’t have time to think about that—he’s pulsing, and then he’s coming and coming and coming, flooding me.
He collapses on top of me, our breaths heaving, our bodies damp with sweat and pleasure.
Everything will be all right.
****
Derrick is still dead asleep when I leave the next morning. I write a note and set out with a huge smile in place. Midday, my phone dings with a text from Derrick.
Him: Hey, sweetheart. Meet you at Table One at six?
Me: Can’t wait!
After a pause, more little dots indicating a response.
Him: Last night…Jeez, babe. Amazing. I’ve missed you.
I’m thrilled he’s thinking about me.
Me: Same here. I love you, D.
Him: Love you more. How about a repeat tonight?
Me: If you insist…
Him: I do.
The texts go silent, but now I’m busy reminiscing and looking forward to our evening. I want our anniversary to be special. No interruptions. No harsh words or arguments. Thankfully, I had the foresight to bring a change of clothes—the little black cocktail dress he likes so much—to the office.
I set those thoughts aside with a contented smile, and gather materials to take to Evan’s office. The rest of the afternoon speeds by. Soon, it’s almost four o’clock.
I press my fingers into my temples. “I need a break, Evan.”
“I was thinking the same thing. Want to go out and grab some air and coffee?” He stands and stretches. Without his suit jacket on, the stretch accentuates his broad chest and well-defined arms, straining his tailored white shirt. Once again, I scold myself for peeking.
“Sounds great.” Then, I remember I promised to call my mom. “Crap. I need to check in with my mom, first.”
“Tell you what. You make your call, and I’ll grab the caffeine.”
God, Evan’s such a sweetie. As he retreats to the door, I can’t help but admire his strong frame yet again. If I weren’t married to Derrick…I shake my head at the thought.
“Appreciate it. She had an appointment today, and I want to find out how things went. I won’t have time later.”
“Oh, that’s right. The big anniversary dinner?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Evan.”
Maya bounces into my office as I’m wrapping up the conversation with mom, grinning ear-to-ear.
“Tonight’s the big night, girlie!” She’s full of mischief as always. “I bet you and Derrick will burn down the town.”
Her enthusiasm is contagious and makes me laugh. “So, chickie…show me the dress you brought, cuz I bet it’s
not what you’re wearing now.” She folds her arms in front of her, leans against the desk, and snaps her gum. I peer at my outfit and frown.
“Is there a problem with this? What’s with you people and my wardrobe lately, anyway?” I give her a more-or-less fake scowl. She isn’t buying it.
“Nothing. Actually, I secretly covet that dress. In fact, I may steal it from your closet.” There’s a glint in her eye as she admires the sleeveless, crayon red, A-line dress I wore to work. “I know you, Erynne. If you have a date with Hottie the Hubby, you’re going to let the ta-tas help celebrate, and the hemline’s taking a trip northward.”
“Jesus, Maya…my door’s open for crying out loud.” I reach for the dress hanging behind it. “Will this work?” I can’t contain an impish grin.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” She lets out a low whistle. “Hubba-hubba! D-Man’s definitely gonna enjoy the view.”
“How many nicknames do you have for my husband, Maya?” She’s always calling him something sexy. She isn’t exactly wrong, though. Derrick is a damned fine piece of man.
“Whoa… Who’s gonna be wearing that scrap of material? And when? Because I don’t want to miss that event.” Evan appears in the doorway with two cups of coffee, his jaw about six inches off the ground, eyes glued to the very little black dress swaying on the hanger I’m holding.
Heat spreads across my cheeks as I blush furiously, and crawling under my desk for a day or two seems like a good idea. Instead, Maya and I stare back at Evan.
He realizes what he said and—believe it or not—he begins to blush as well. It’s kind of cute.
“Oh, God, Erynne. I’m so sorry. I was totally out of line.” He’s mortified, which is rather amusing for a guy who’s always in control. Yeah, Evan makes occasional off-color jokes or even says some borderline suggestive things on occasion, but it’s clear he’s not hitting on anyone. It’s purely good-natured joking, and never around someone he isn’t comfortable with. This, however, spilled out uncensored. Maya and I exchange a glance and start laughing. After a beat or two, Evan realizes I’m not mad.
“This is the dress my husband wanted me to wear to his boss’ party last month. I think you can understand why I didn’t.”
He glances back and forth between me and the dress a few times and swallows hard. With a hoarse voice, he says, “Yes. Yes, I do. Um. I’ll take your coffee into my office. We can finish up when you’re ready.”
****
Thank God, this day is almost over. I’m so excited to spend the evening with Derrick I might jump out of my skin. Each of us carries a stack of portfolios back to my office. Evan, Maya and I are organizing them on the shelf when my phone rings.
“Hey, Erynne.” Derrick sounds tired. A relaxing night out will do him good.
“Hi. I was going to change and catch a cab. What’s up?”
The momentary silence I am listening to makes me uneasy. “Well, about dinner…”
“No!” The words tumble out so sharply Maya and Evan spin around. “No. Do not tell me you’re…”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. We need to get these briefs in order. Tomorrow we have a meeting with the opposing attorneys, and we’re not even close to ready.”
“Derrick. For fuck’s sake, it’s our anniversary. It was bad enough when you canceled on my birthday, but this…this…” I can’t find words to express the extent of my anger and hurt. Nausea rises, and I pray I won’t lose it here in the middle of the office. I swallow hard, lowering my voice. “After last night, I thought…”
“Erynne. I can’t help it. Deal with it.” Derrick is terse, not sounding sorry in the least. For the first time, I truly want to punch him in the face.
“Deal with it? You want me to deal with it? Fine. I’m dealing. Having a super night.” I slam down the phone, and collapse into a chair in a flood of tears. As I reach for a tissue, I notice Evan and Maya staring at me, both wide-eyed. I had forgotten they were here.
I sob.
Through all my crying, I hear Maya utter, “Oh shit.”
The office door closes. Embarrassed, I glance up, knowing Maya will be there. I’m not expecting Evan to be, however. If the thought had crossed my mind, I would have assumed he shut the door on his way out, leaving Maya to deal with the crying woman.
“What happened?” she asks.
“Derrick. He canceled. Again.”
“What the hell’s wrong with him, lately?” Maya asks no one in particular.
“I wish I knew. These last few weeks he’s been…different. He’s never handled any of his cases this way.” I sniff and blow my nose in a very unladylike manner. I don’t give a shit right now if I look and sound like a sniveling three-year-old.
“How am I supposed to sit around alone at home all night? We should be celebrating. Five years, Maya.” This sucks.
I imagine how empty our apartment will be when I go home. Nothing but a rerun of my birthday. I’ll be climbing the walls and probably won’t be able to sleep either. I can’t decide if I’m more angry, or more disappointed, or an extremely hefty version of both. Most likely the last one.
“Um, Erynne?” Evan sets a hand on my shoulder. “Of course, we can’t do or say anything to help, but may I…make a suggestion?”
“What? That I cut all his neckties in half?” The poor attempt at a joke doesn’t make me feel any better. Evan smiles sympathetically.
“Well, I’d be happy to help you with that…” he starts.
“Me too,” Maya chimes in.
“But, rather than do something so drastic, how about Maya and I take you out for drinks and dinner. On me.” The look he flashes Maya says, “I hope you’re on board with this plan.” She nods.
“I’m not sure.” I stammer, wiping at a river of stubborn tears.
“It isn’t the same thing, but, you shouldn’t be alone tonight. You’d just sit home and brood. I’m not saying it will take your mind off the whole thing, but it will help pass the evening.” His blue eyes search mine hopefully. “Plus, I have some great dirty jokes I can tell you.”
I snort out a laugh.
“This is a good idea, Erynne. Come on.” Maya squeezes my hand in encouragement.
After a moment, another tissue, and a heavy sigh, I nod. “Sure. Thank you.” Although going out somehow seems wrong, sitting at home would be far worse.
****
We grab seats at a high-top table in a well-known bar/restaurant Evan likes called Malone’s. The place is out of the way, but comfortable. Honestly, it could be a biker bar for all I care. I’m so angry at Derrick right now, I almost want to join a biker gang just to spite him. I am thankful for both Evan and Maya, though. They certainly didn’t need to do this.
“What about your girlfriend, Evan? You didn’t have plans with her tonight?” The thought suddenly crosses my mind.
“Girlfriend?” He’s puzzled for a few seconds. “Oh, Becca. We date on occasion, but we’re not a couple. My plans for this evening involved laundry detergent and fabric softener. It can wait.”
“Too bad. She seems so nice.” I offer a weak smile. The effort it takes is huge. “I suppose I could have occupied myself with laundry tonight as well.”
“No. Just no,” Maya states firmly. “This is much better.”
She’s right.
We order a second round of drinks and decide to eat in the bar instead of moving to the dining room.
Evan looks up from his menu and starts to say something, then freezes. I track his gaze to the front door.
What the hell is Derrick doing here? This isn’t even close to his office. Or our apartment. I’m perplexed.
As I’m wondering what to do, his partner, Morgan emerges from the bathroom and joins him.
He pulls her into him, wraps one arm around her waist, cups her face with the other and kisses her. Not a friendly peck on the cheek. A long and hard kiss.
Those are my kisses!
In an intimate gesture, he tucks a loose strand of hair behi
nd her ear, wraps her hand in his and leads her into the dining room.
The wine glass slides from my grip, crashing to the ground as I stare at the spot where they embraced. The vision replays on a relentless, endless loop inside my head.
All of the air has been sucked out of this restaurant. There’s no sound. I hear nothing. The blood has drained from my body. My bones dissolved. My muscles atrophied.
Chapter Seven
Evan
Almost five o’clock. For the past hour, I’ve sat next to Erynne desperately trying not to imagine her in the black dress she plans to wear. My vivid imagination refuses to cooperate. I couldn’t even stay in the same room with her and the dress earlier. The things I was thinking were…so wrong. But, so hot. I high-tailed out of her office as quickly as I could.
“Need help filing?” Maya pops in as we organize the accounts from this afternoon.
“Sure. Here ya go.” Erynne dumps a stack in her friend’s arms.
“When are they going to get your shelves installed?” Maya asks, grunting under her load. “You guys should work in Erynne’s office.”
“Nah. My work space larger. We can spread this stuff out. Meanwhile, schlepping files back and forth will do.”
No sooner do we drop the piles on the conference table, when Erynne’s phone rings. In spite of my effort not to listen in—sort of—I can tell it’s her husband. My mind wanders to the damned dress again. Lucky bastard. Not the first time I’ve thought so, either.
Maya and I exchange worried glances when her cheerful tone dissipates, anger taking its place. Whatever he said to her flipped a switch. He may be lucky, but he’s definitely a bastard if you ask me. I can’t believe what I’m seeing and hearing.
He’s canceling their anniversary plans. And, she has totally fallen apart.
****
We’re not going to cheer Erynne up a whole lot, but neither Maya nor I have the heart to let her go home alone tonight. The image of her sitting around her apartment drinking a bottle of wine by herself like last time is too much. I brought them to Malone’s because we aren’t likely to run into anyone from work this far away. No one needs to witness her misery.
The whole mess makes me angry for her. I hope it’s a long time before Derrick shows his face at R&P, because it’ll be hard to refrain from punching the asshole.