Page 41 of The Roman's Woman (A Singular Obsession)

It was a familiar pep talk, one she’d given herself many times around Richard and her father. But now she knew she looked good. Richard’s issues with her body were exactly that—hisissues.

He was early of course. She hated that about him. He always made her feel as if she’d been late when she’d been right on time.

He was sitting in an intimate corner with two armchairs pushed close together over a small round table. There was a pile of papers on it, presumably the deed to the house.

“Are these them?” she asked without preamble, sitting in the empty chair next to him.

Richard choked on the sip of tea he was drinking, standing formally to greet her, although she’d already sat down.

“Hello, darling,” he said standing there awkwardly, waiting for her to get back up before giving up and bending to kiss her cheek.

Whatever. You don’t have to follow his Emily Post rules of etiquette anymore.

“Hi.”

He sat back down after her lackluster greeting, looking her up and down.

“Sophie darling, you look smashing. New dress?”

“Yes,” she muttered, ignoring his scrunity while she went over the paperwork.

Wait for it.

“It’s a little form-fitting, isn’t it?”

There it is.

She clenched her teeth before forcing herself to relax and answer.

“That’s the idea,” she said, managing to keep her tone pleasant.

“Darling, you know that I didn’t mean anything by that. You were always so sensitive about your outfits,” he said, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle on his lap.

Because you were always criticizing them.He’d been like her father that way. If her curves were visible, she would be gently chided about “flaunting” herself.

“Sometimes it’s nice to change things up,” she said leaning back with a cool glance. “I see you’re still sporting the same urbane professor uniform.”

He was wearing a button-down shirt paired with a tweed sports coat, the kind with suede patches at the elbows. Since it was Saturday, he’d gone with an informal chino in place of his usual pair of slacks. She used to think his was the perfect style on a man, but these days she much preferred the GQ look. A clean tailored suit and tie was much more sophisticated.

Without waiting for him to answer, she stood and went to the counter to order something to eat. She was disappointed when she was given a little number to display on her table, instead of waiting up front for her food.

“New system?” she asked the barista.

He gave her a big grin and nodded. Refraining from giving him a dirty look, she turned back to the table, stiffing him on the tip. But true to form, she immediately felt guilty and returned to stick a five pound note in the tip jar.

The walk back to the armchair was exhausting. She sat down with a thump, taking out her pen. Wasting no more time, she started signing and initialing as needed.

Just think of that big bottle of Bordeaux Kelly has waiting for you.

“Darling…”

“I thought we established that I’m not your darling around six months ago.”

Richard gave her a little moue of distress. “You know that was a mistake. In fact, I’ve been wanting to speak to you about our relationship,” he said, leaning over to put his hand on her arm to stay her pen.

Stiffening, she shook his hand off.

“My parents are in town,” he said. “They’re here to see the house. I thought we could have dinner with them.”

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