Page 83 of Sex Coach

She inhaled deeply. "Jake, I'm okay . Why look so grim ?"

It was confession time. I'd held this in for way to long. "I told a writer," I said flatly. "I've got a feeling she was the anonymous source. I...fuck. She told me this story about how she'd been raped by her uncle and...hell. I don't know. We were talking and what happened to you slipped out. I told her just the other day, then this hits the press. It's the only thing that makes sense ."

Whitley cocked her head. "How do you think it makes sense ?"

"The same thing happened to you ."

"No." She laughed, but it was a sad, strained sound. "The boy who raped me, awful as it was, was someone I'd gone out on a date with. I barely knew him. Having somebody from your own family..." She shook her head .

"I'm not even –"

"Don't say it, Jake," Whitley said in a voice as hard as any I'd ever heard from her. She leaned forward over the table, her eyes intent on mine. "Maybe she told, maybe she didn't. It doesn't make sense to me why she would, but why assume she made up a story about being raped by her uncle. I mean, did you tell her about me before or after ?"

"I...before. Actually, she told me a couple of days before. She'd had a nightmare ..."

Her mouth tightened. "Was it a real nightmare ?"

The sound of Michelle's whimpers, followed by the broken little cries echoed in my ears. "Yeah. It was real. Too real ."

"And you're still sitting here thinking she made something up to...what? Soften you up for information about an incident only a very few people know about ?"

The way she said it made me feel foolish. And worse .

But... "If it wasn't her, then who could have gone to the press? You just said yourself very few people know ."

Whitley was quiet a moment, her finger tapping the side of her glass. "Does she know about you? What you do, I mean ?"

"Yeah."

"There you have it." Whitley gestured with her hand, palm open and up, a little tadamoment .

But I didn't understand her big reveal, and she didn't explain right away .

"Don't you see, Jake?" Head cocked, her gleaming ponytail falling to trail over one shoulder, she watched me. "Why would she have reported you and I were having an affair ? That's not what we have going on and you know it. I pay you for sex, for companionship. I pay you so I won't be so fucking lonely. But what would come off as more tawdry in the eyes of the press? You and I having an affair? Or me paying a handsome young man like you for sex ?"

As the light dawned, and a sick feeling spread inside my gut, she settled back in her chair. "You understand now. Here I am, almost forty years old and paying a young stud for sex. That would make me look a lot worse in the press than you and I having an affair. Hell, if I go to the press and talk to the right people about how my husband really is..." She shrugged. "They'd have me looking like Mother Theresa by the time it was all over. Not a woman alive would blame me for looking outside the marriage for something...more, even if it is something I had to pay for ."

I barely heard the rest of her words though. I was too busy seeing the look in Michelle's eyes. She told me she hadn't broken my trust .

Had she been telling the truth ?

No,some part of me insisted. It still made sense .

But that was the stubborn bastard who just couldn't accept that he'd been wrong. And it wasn't about being wrong , even. It was because if I had been wrong, then I'd put that look in her eyes. I'd put that pain on her face .

I didn't want to think that might be possible .

"It feels good not carrying that ugly weight inside," Whitley said, drawing my attention back to her. "Like I said...I feel free . I think I'm almost grateful even, you know that ?"

Dragging my eyes back to her, I waited .

She continued, that faint smile returning to her lips. "I think I'm going to talk to a lawyer, see about getting a divorce...finding my own life. Washington never did make me happy, you know. And I'm not going to let him use this against me. If I do that..." She blew out a breath. "Wow. I really will be free. For the first time in my life. I think I am grateful." She got up then and came around the table, pausing by my side. "Thank you, Jake ."

As she bent to kiss my cheek, I covered the hand she'd put on my shoulder. "For what ?"

"For listening. For caring. For helping me feel good about myself...for just being you ."

She left then, her sneakered feet silent on the gleaming black marble. Once she was gone, the quiet became almost deafening as I thought about just what it was I might have done .

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