by Anya Sharpe
But not all of it.
Chapter Thirteen
Erynne
For the third time in as many minutes, I move to pick up the phone. My brain has been a scrambled mess since the visit to Derrick’s awful apartment yesterday.
What I have to do is clear. I muster what little courage I have left, and dial the private number. What I am about to do seems wrong, but where else can I turn?
“Jamison Reed.”
“Hey, um…Jamie? Erynne Sommers. I was hoping you could help me. I, ah, need a recommendation.” Oh, God. My request might be a conflict of interest. Shit. Why didn’t I think of that a few minutes ago?
“Erynne. What a surprise. How can I help you?” His voice is professional, yet kind.
Has he talked to Derrick since our lunch?
“Well,” I’m stammering. Way to go Erynne.
“I’m sorry to bother you. Perhaps I should ask someone else…”
“Erynne, dear, you could never be a bother. Tell me what’s on your mind. I’ll help in any way I can.”
“I need a divorce attorney.” The words tumble out before I can stop myself. A few moments of tense silence follow.
“Are you sure, Erynne? Really, really sure?” His voice is low and rigid. This is the last thing he expected me to ask of him, but after my discovery, I know there’s no going back.
“Yeah, Jamie. I am. I…learned something yesterday which pretty much sealed the deal for me.”
What surprises me is the calm resignation in my voice and exactly how certain I am about my decision.
“Jesus, Erynne.” I visualize Jamie running his hand through his hair in despair. “Does Derrick know?”
“Not yet, but after yesterday, he’s an idiot if he’d be shocked by it.”
“What the hell happened?” He’s angry now. “What did the jerk do?”
“Jamie…I can’t talk about that. I can say what I discovered was…devastating.” I pause. “So, I need a good divorce lawyer. If this is conflict of interest, I’ll find one on my own.”
A second wave of silence tells me he’s weighing his answer.
“Call Laurie Welch. Tell her I referred. She’s good, and you’ll get along well with her. Erynne, I hope you’re doing the right thing and not rushing into this.”
“Thanks, Jamie. I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position.”
“Nonsense. Sounds to me like Derrick is the one putting people in awkward positions. Good luck, sweetheart.”
If he only knew…
****
For the next few days, I manage to ignore calls and texts from Derrick. Of course, he wants to explain everything to me. In one lengthy text, he claimed his play pad had gone unused during our marriage—until recently.
Even without the video I had the good fortune to view, simply learning about the existence of the apartment appalls me. We’ve been married five years, and he kept it? He didn’t tell me about it? Why? If he was into that sort of thing, why did he marry me?
There are so many questions, and I doubt I can stomach the answers.
The only question I do have an answer to is whether I want to stay married to him.
I do not.
The infidelity and secrets run too deep.
Laurie Welch put me at ease even though I am worried about Derrick’s reaction when he is served papers, which should happen any day now. I’m sure he’ll go ballistic.
All of this is tumbling around in my mind as I return to the office from a quick lunch with Maya. Thank God for my best friend.
No sooner do I sit when my phone rings.
“Yeah?”
Evan’s smooth voice answers. “You ready to go over the Crown Hill account now?”
“Yes. Why don’t you come down in a few minutes since all the paperwork is here? Give me five to get organized.”
“Sure. See ya.”
The door creaks open as I’m sorting through the folders. “Wow, you’re fast.” I glance up expecting Evan. Nope. I freeze.
Derrick.
“What are you doing here?”
“Hi, Erynne.” He’s obviously upset, but at least he isn’t flying off the handle.
“Why?”
“Why…?” Did he get the papers?
“A divorce?” He chokes the words out. “I’ve done some really shitty stuff, but I love you, Erynne. That’s never, ever changed. Can we…can I lay my cards on the table—and work it out?”
I stare at the man who I loved with all my heart. Until he smashed it like a bug under his foot.
Say something.
“Derrick…” I swallow hard, trickles of doubt running through me. Have I been too hasty? Then, I visualize him in the restaurant with Morgan. And the video.
“I can’t. I just can’t.” My gaze drops down to the files. It hurts to look at him.
“At least let me explain what happened. Please?”
“Derrick, cheating on me was bad enough. But to discover you had an apartment…like that? You had used it? You’d kept it? You’ve done those things…with her? It’s too much.”
“I should have gotten rid of the apartment when we got married, babe. Some stupid part of me thought I could get you to…” The guilt on his face says it all. “After a while, I realized I didn’t need that…lifestyle, because I was so in love with you. Then…”
“Then what?”
“Morgan reappeared.”
“Re-appeared?” What the hell?
“Yes. Morgan and I met a long time ago. At a club. A club for…um…”
“Jesus, Derrick. This gets better and better, doesn’t it?” Lunch is spinning in my stomach. Again.
“Dammit, Erynne. I’m trying to explain this mess to you.” His voice grows louder.
“Derrick, I can’t listen to any more of this right now. It’s making me sick. You should go. My attorney will be in touch with you.”
“Attorney? You’re serious? You really want a divorce? No, Erynne. You can’t…”
“I can. Yeah. I want a divorce, Derrick. You have the papers. Now go, or I’ll call security. Please don’t make me do that.”
He glares at me, his expression wavering between anger and hurt.
“You’re right. This isn’t the place to continue this discussion. Another time. Soon.”
He turns and stops at the door, which he’d left ajar.
“I love you, Erynne. I am so, so sorry.”
By the time he leaves, I’m clutching the edge of my desk so hard my fingers are turning white. A few moments later, the door creaks open.
“Are you all right?” Evan asks.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“Anything I can do?”
“I served him divorce papers.” The words blow out of my mouth like a swarm of locusts. Evan sucks in air between his teeth.
“Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.”
Silence hangs in the room for long minutes until Evan speaks again.
“How’d he take it?”
I shrug.
“He’s not happy. Neither am I.” I study Evan’s face. “He destroyed our marriage. With a sledgehammer.” Not to mention some whips and handcuffs. I stand and pace, restlessness making my skin crawl. “I need to get out of here. Go someplace. Do something.”
“Come on.” He stands and motions toward the door.
“What?”
“Let’s go. I’ll buy you a drink. If anyone needs an early afternoon cocktail, it’s you. C’mon.”
“As long as we don’t go to Malone’s again,” I offer a weak smile. “My track record there isn’t so good.”
“No Malone’s. I promise.
****
Evan orders us Sazerac cocktails.
“Mmm. This is tasty. Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. And, yes, it is.” He holds his glass to mine, and we tap them together.
“To better times,” he says.
“Agreed.” I glance around at the intimate bar/lounge. Mix It Up is fairly n
ew and rather trendy in a comfortable way. We’re seated casually in two glove-soft leather club chairs with a small table between us. After a several sips, I begin to relax. I lean back, closing my eyes for a few moments to unwind, nothing but empty thoughts filling my head for a change.
“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” Evan chuckles, and I smile.
“Perhaps. I haven’t been sleeping well since this all started.” I turn to face him. Evan has removed his suit coat, rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt and kicked his legs straight out in front him, crossing his feet at the ankles. “You’re looking mighty relaxed too, Ace.”
“Ace?”
“Yeah. Dude is so…yesterday.”
He laughs. I like his laugh. A lot.
Our conversation is light, focusing on anything other than the dregs of my marriage or the office, which is a welcome change.
“Hey.” On impulse, I reach across the small pedestal table and touch the hand resting on the arm of his chair. He turns toward me. An indescribable emotion wells up inside of me. The good kind. “Thanks. For everything. I appreciate your friendship and kindness.”
His smile is warm and tender.
“Of course. Anytime.” He folds his hand around mine, his thumb caressing my wrist for a few seconds before letting go.
“Can I drive you home?”
Spell broken.
“Sure. Thanks.”
****
A hot bath eases some of the tense muscles I’ve been carrying around for weeks. Relaxed, I snuggle under a throw and sip green tea while attempting to immerse myself in a novel. I do, although not for long.
Soon, my thoughts drift to the day’s events—specifically, drinks with Evan. The guy is such a sweetheart. To sit with someone and just be was good. After all the recent turmoil, I managed to let things go for a while this afternoon.
When I close my eyes, I recall his comforting hand on mine. The soothing brush of his thumb. An unexpected flutter under my skin catches me off-guard.
Jesus, Erynne. What the hell are you thinking? A guy’s nice to you and suddenly…don’t even go there.
Chastising myself for skirting the boundaries of inappropriate thoughts, I sit up and turn on the television searching for a reality show to take my mind off everything.
****
I’m back in that hallway, facing the same four doors. This time I decide to try the far left, which is door two. Why they are out of order doesn’t seem to concern me.
Inside the room is pitch black, and I can’t see anything. Curious, I take a few tentative steps, a bit anxious at what awaits me. Low lights rise from somewhere on the ground, illuminating a dark figure. By squinting, I make out the back of a mysterious man in a suit. I’m unable to determine any distinguishing features about him.
When he turns toward me, the light isn’t bright enough or high enough to discern who he is. I sense he’s speaking to me, because his mouth is moving. The words are a jumbled, unclear whisper which envelops me—a hushed, comfortable hissing sound.
The man turns and steps away from me at a measured pace, until he blends into the darkness.
The lights go out, and the door behind me closes.
I am not afraid.
My dream does not wake me tonight.
****
“Hey! You look great this morning.” Maya is chipper as always. Either she drinks a lot of coffee or has some banging vitamins at home. Her mood is illuminated by the retina-searing lime green suit she’s chosen to wear today. Enough energy radiates from Maya’s outfit to power a small village.
“Gee. Thanks, best friend.” The truth is I actually feel pretty good, too.
“Derrick got the papers yesterday. He came to talk me. He wanted to explain everything.”
“Oh?” Her eyes go wide. “And?”
I shrug and tell her the story. “Not much else. Afterward, Evan and I slipped out for a drink before I went home. It was good not to worry about things for a half-hour or so.”
“I wondered where you both had gone.” She gives me a strange look.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Spill.”
“Is Evan getting too…cozy?”
“What? Are you crazy? He’s a friend. Like you.” Even though this is true, something weird stirs in my gut.
“Yeah. I’m not used to men being sweet for no reason.”
“I come bearing coffee for my favorite ladies.” Evan bursts into the office wearing a huge grin, and balancing a tray of steaming coffees.
Maya and I exchange smiles and stifle giggles.
“What?” he asks, the picture of innocence, his stunning blue eyes sparkling brightly.
Chapter Fourteen
Evan
“She filed for divorce.”
Lance chokes on his sea bass. “You’re kidding me, right?” He grabs his beer and takes a long swig.
“Nope.” I spear a bite of my perfectly medium-rare filet.
“What the hell happened?” Lance drops his fork with a clatter and stares at me.
“I’m not exactly sure. She and Maya went somewhere one afternoon and discovered something about the guy he’d been hiding.”
“Which was…?” Lance picks up his fork, pointing it at me like a dagger. “Because I’m sure you eavesdropped on some conversation.”
“Fuck you.” I sip my wine as a sly grin takes shape. “Yeah, I did.”
I wait for him to finish laughing so I can continue.
“Derrick the Dick came to visit her the day he was served. Only he left the door ajar. I, ahem, happened to be passing by when I overheard him mention an apartment he hadn’t used while they were married.” I quirk my brows at Lance whose eyes are now saucers. “I got the sense it wasn’t just any apartment. I think she found something she didn’t like.”
“Shit, are you yanking my dick?”
“I would never do that, euphemistically or otherwise.” I take another sip of cabernet. “So, I took her out for a drink.”
Of course, I waited until Lance was sipping his beer to mention the drink part of the story. You know, to get even for the ‘yanking my dick’ comment. I’m duly rewarded when he nearly spews ale from his nose. I don’t laugh though. I only allow my lips to twitch.
“Jack ass.” He wipes at his face with a tiny bar napkin. “Moving a little fast, aren’t you?”
“I’m not moving anywhere. We went for a drink. I drove her home. End of story.”
“Uh-huh, and the moon is made of cheese,” he says, shaking his head.
****
Yeah, I’d seen Derrick stroll down the hall toward his wife’s office. I gave him a few minutes then followed. I’m nosy. What can I say? Good fortune was on my side, and he’d left the door open, so I listened in on the whole conversation.
Whatever Erynne discovered at this secret apartment of his, wasn’t just a sofa bed and stacks of porn.
Then, he admits he and this Morgan slut had a previous relationship involving some sort of club. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out it was a sex club. Which permits my vivid imagination to consider all sorts of sordid things Erynne may have found in his apartment.
I tell Lance none of this. Bad enough I know them.
Sure, taking her out for a drink was a dicey move. Probably inappropriate and borderline breaking my rule against getting involved with coworkers. A rule I’d happily break to get a chance with Erynne when all this shit blows over.
“Good move holding her hand, jerk-off.” I scold myself, recalling the scene as I drive home. Her hand was silky. Warm and velvety. I wanted to hold more than her damned hand, too. It took a mountain of willpower not to haul her whole body up against mine and keep it there. Fortunately, we were in a public place. How did this happen?
I’m so fucked over this woman.
****
“Hello?”
I tossed my keys on the counter in time to answer the phone.
“Hey, Evan. Have
n’t heard from you in a while.”
“Sorry, Becca. Things have been busy.” I don’t offer any hint of interest on my part. A few weeks ago, I was ready to take her to the moon and back, but now, not so much. My mind is on other things.
Specifically, Erynne Sommers.
The conversation with Becca isn’t going anywhere, and she grows frustrated with me. I can’t even gin up the effort to feel bad.
“Well, I guess I’ll catch you later.”
“Sure.” That’s as good as she’s going to get tonight. Or probably any other night from here on out, if things go my way.
****
Lifting a handful of silken hair off her neck, I slide the zipper of her tight, white dress down—very, very, very slowly—revealing a canvas of creamy skin that sets my taste buds afire. I press my hot lips against her back and inhale her delicate scent.
Every single one of my muscles goes rock solid. Her sweetness consumes me, building a haze of lust and passion around us.
My hands slide between the parted dress, gliding up to her shoulders, where I catch the fabric and skate it down her arms, until the whole thing slithers into a pool of white at her feet.
Mere nothings of the palest pink lace caress her body now. My dick hardens further at the erotic sight.
I spin her body to face mine—she’s only inches away. The heat of unbidden desire and lust plays in her eyes and rises between us.
She is mine.
Tonight, I make her mine.
At last.
Her lips are an undeniable temptation. Luscious and full, they entice me.
Impatient, my mouth crashes against hers, nibbling and teasing the pouty flesh. God, this is so good. I slide my tongue along her lower lip, silently begging her to open to me. Our mouths are entangled, and I steady myself by gripping her arms, pulling her velvety body into my taut one.
It’s not enough. For either of us.
Her breathing is heavy and wanton. I love it. I crave it.
More. I ache for the touch of her body on mine, without the barrier of clothes. Swiftly, I remove my shirt, then reach behind her to release the clasp of her sheer bra. My own breath hitches at the sight of her perfect breasts. Full, round, soft. Nipples rosy, pink, perky and stiff, waiting for me to bite down and lick them.
My dick becomes harder still. Almost unbearably so.