Page 35 of The Last Affair
She didn’t know, and the not knowing was driving her crazy.
“Missed you last night,” she whispered the moment he eased his mouth away from hers. It was what she’d been thinking all last night after he’d left and she was alone in her bed.
For six years, since the day she’d walked out of that house she’d shared with Gordon, she’d lived alone and slept alone. Dates that turned into sex never turned into overnights at her house or theirs. Until Maurice, who’d slept beside her for the majority of the nights since the ski trip.
“Missed you this morning.” His smile was intoxicating.
With a grin of her own, she tapped a finger to his chin. “Why, because I’ve become you’re personal alarm clock?”
“Hey, you can’t blame a guy for enjoying when a woman like you straddles him at four o’clock in the morning.”
She had been doing that, after vowing she could make up for the workshop on morning sex they’d missed during the Dear Lover weekend. And she’d been enjoying it just as much as he had. So why had he left after getting that message last night?
“Obviously you didn’t enjoy it too much. You opted not to stay last night.” Did that sound too controlling? Clingy? Needy?
Maurice backed away from her then, moving around her desk and taking a seat in one of the guest chairs. She tried not to take that as a bad sign. “Had some things to take care of at home last night, that’s all. No big deal. But I want to cook for you tonight. Are you available?”
“You? Cook?” She laughed. “This I’ve gotta see. Sure, I’m available.”
“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know I’ve got skills in the kitchen. You remember those pizza bagels I brought in for that birthday luncheon for Betty down the hall.”
“I remember they were overcooked and actually tasted a little store-bought.”
He clapped a hand over his heart. “You wound my tender pride. I definitely pulled those out of the box and added extra cheese and oregano for a home-cooked touch.”
“You’re definitely a goofball.” And she was unequivocally falling for him. “Your mother was amazed that I’d ever see past your silliness to be attracted to you.”
His face contorted. “What? You talked to my mother about me?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Briefly on Sunday when you and the guys were closed up in Ron’s study, the women talked to me about you.” That had been the first family girl talk she’d had in a long time. Since she was a teenager to be exact—that was the last time she, her mother and her grandmother had spent an evening talking, drinking lemonade and eating popcorn.
Maurice waved a hand distractedly. “I don’t want to know what else was said during that little discussion.”
He wasn’t looking at her. He was much more consumed with whatever he was reading on his phone. Just like last night.
“Listen, I gotta run. Just wanted to stop in and see you before I got started with my day.”
Shaking herself free of the questions looming in her mind, she smiled when he stood. “Well, thank you very much for the visit.”
He leaned over the desk now, and she came up out of her chair to meet him halfway. “No thanks necessary,” he whispered before one quick kiss. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She nodded and went in for another kiss, this time tracing her tongue over his lips. “Yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”
With a grin he backed away and headed for the door. Desta watched him leave, resisting the urge to follow him. With an irritated shake of her head, she wondered when she’d decided reclaiming her life meant falling right back into her worst nightmare?
She didn’t like feeling this way. Wanting to be with Maurice all the time, needing to hear his voice, to feel his touch. It was insane. And it was the beginning of a very slippery slope. Like the one she’d slid down when she’d thrown all of herself into her relationship with Gordon, only to be shocked later when he’d wanted to keep her in a cage, doing his bidding and punishing her whenever she rebelled. Just when she’d convinced herself this was different, that Maurice was different, doubt eased back into her mind. But she didn’t have time for this. Whatever was going to happen with Maurice would happen whether she spent the next few minutes worrying over it or not. There were better things she could do with her time. Work, for instance.
It was after four when Desta was able to tear herself away from her desk long enough to grab herself a bottled water and a bag of trail mix from the lunchroom. An impromptu call with the Donovan brothers had morphed into talks with their sister, who was a TV producer and had expressed interest in a reality show featuring Chaz and Riley. Normally, Desta’s job didn’t take her into the world of TV, but she was in it now. Back upstairs, she chewed a handful of trail mix and finished her email to RGF’s legal department with all the questions she needed answered before going further with the discussions.
Nessa, her assistant, came through on the line. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I know it’s late and you don’t have anything on your schedule for the rest of the afternoon,” Nessa began. Desta was less concerned with the woman’s cryptic words and more concerned with why she was whispering through the phone. “But there’s a woman here. She says her name is Kelli Boston and that she needs to see you about a personal matter.”
Kelli Boston? Did she know someone by that name? Oh wait, yes, she did. “Yes, send her in.”
Grabbing a tissue from the box on the other side of her desk, Desta wiped her hands of the trail mix and closed the bag just in time to watch Kelli walk into her office with the same cheerful smile she’d given her when they’d met.
“Hi!” Kelli said, waving as she came closer.
