or unemployed or up to his ears in debt or-” She shook her head. “You get my point. Greg has his faults, but who doesn’t? God knows I have plenty. I’m just not willing to give up on us without trying.”
“Well, if those photos don’t resuscitate your relationship, it’s totally flatlined. You’re seeing Greg tomorrow night?”
“Yes. I’ll call you Monday to let you know how it goes.”
“Good. I’ll forgive you once for holding out on me for a week, but not twice.”
“Gotcha.”
Looking unusually serious, Kellie studied her for several seconds. “You know, Mal, it kinda sounds to me like Adam’s ‘The One Who Got Away.’”
Mallory considered, then shrugged. “I suppose he could be called that, but what difference does it make? The operative words are ‘Who Got Away.’”
“No. The operative words are ‘The One.’”
“No, it’s not. It’s statistically a fact. I just read an article about this in
“Which means that twelve percent discover that they’d have been better off if they’d let him remain ‘Away.’”
“When did you become such a pessimist?”
“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. A realist who already has a boyfriend.”
“And if you didn’t?”
Mallory’s heart tripped over itself. If she didn’t have a boyfriend…
Apparently her expression gave her away, because Kellie nodded. “Figured as much.”
“But…but Adam is all wrong for me,” Mallory blurted out. “
“How?”
“Timing issues. The reason we split up before was because we were heading in opposite directions, and we’re doing the exact same thing now. I’m looking for permanency. Stability. To expand my career, take on more responsibility, and enjoy my new house. He’s currently unemployed, doesn’t know what sort of new career he wants, is living the bachelor lifestyle, and plans to travel the globe, no doubt indulging in flings in every time zone- and has no idea where he plans to live once his lease is up. He even mentioned opening a tiki bar in Hawaii. Stable and permanent that is not. I’m focused on business and my future, and he’s Mr. Margaritaville.”
“He’s not going to be unemployed forever, Mal. Besides, if he sold a seat on the stock exchange, he’s not hurting for money. He has time to decide what he wants to do next. And as for the tiki bar and him doing his bachelor thing, nothing says you have to
Mallory briefly tipped back her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re not helping, you know. You’re
“I’m not at all convinced that’s what I’m supposed to be saying, but I hate seeing you so unraveled. So I’ll play it your way.” A devilish grin curved Kellie’s lips. “Forget your sexy former lover and focus on, uh, what’s his face.”
“Thanks. Very helpful.”
“Always glad to be of service.” Again her friend’s gaze turned serious. “Mal, do you love Greg?”
A humorless laugh escaped her. “Ah, the question I’ve asked myself at least a dozen times in the past week.”
“And your answer?”
Mallory let out a long, slow breath. “Honestly? I just don’t know. And after eight months of dating, I think I
Kellie gave her hand a commiserating squeeze. “That’s very wise. Just keep in mind that if another man can arouse strong feelings in you, maybe your feelings for Greg aren’t as deep as you might have thought.”
“Good advice. How much do I owe you for the consult, doc?”
“I’ll send you a bill. Sure I can’t talk you into coming to the beach?”
“No thanks. I want to clear off my desk.”
They both stood, and after exchanging a quick hug, Kellie left. Mallory took a deep breath and forced everything into perspective. These crazy thoughts about Adam were nothing more than a blip on her emotional radar. A bad case of nostalgia run amok. As soon as she saw Greg again, rekindled their sex life, everything would fall back into place.
Feeling better, she spent the next hour clearing away items from her in-box, then decided to call it a day. The evening stretched out before her like an undisturbed swath of virgin beach-tranquil, peaceful and deserted. With no one to please but herself. With that in mind, she decided to indulge in Thai food, which Greg hated, and pick up a chick flick from Blockbuster.
After gathering her things, she left the office, locking the door behind her. Suffocating heat radiated up from the parking lot blacktop and she quickened her pace to her car. Once the air-conditioning cooled off the interior, she headed out of the lot toward Blockbuster. After selecting her movie, she drove on toward the Thai Palace. On the way there, she detoured down the side street where Greg lived to check on his house as she usually did when he went away for a week at a time. Even though he stopped his newspaper and mail deliveries, unsolicited flyers were often tossed onto driveways. Since such things lying around were red flags that no one was home, Mallory had made it a habit to cut down his street to make sure everything looked undisturbed.
Her eyebrows shot upward a block away from the small brick ranch when she spotted what looked like Greg’s silver Lexus parked in the driveway. Seconds later, she pulled in behind what was most definitely his car. Obviously he’d taken an earlier flight.
But why hadn’t he called her? Probably he’d caught the red-eye and was catching up on some sleep. Hmm…if that was the case, maybe he’d like a little company in his bed. No time like the present to put in that extra effort she’d been talking about and rekindling their sex life.
Armed with the manila envelope inside her oversize purse and with a smile playing around her lips, she used the key he’d given her to unlock the door. She stepped into the small ceramic-tiled foyer and closed the door behind her. The sound of soft jazz poured from the stereo. Because of the way the house was laid out, she could immediately see that Greg wasn’t in either the den or eat-in kitchen, so she headed down the carpeted hallway toward his bedroom. Not wanting to wake him-at least not until she slid between the sheets next to him-she quietly opened his bedroom door.
Well, there certainly wasn’t any need to worry about waking him up-he was clearly wide-awake. And no need to worry about rekindling his sex life-his was apparently just fine. Nor did she need to think that he might like a little company in his bed-he already had plenty. In the form of a naked buxom blonde who was riding him like he was the lead horse in the freakin’ Kentucky Derby. Beneath the blonde, Greg groaned, his hands filled to overflowing with the woman’s melon-size breasts.
Mallory’s heavy leather purse slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with a resounding splat. Her jaw, she was certain, joined her purse less than a second later.
Greg and Blondie turned toward her. Then they, too, froze. Blondie, who appeared to be about nineteen, looked surprised and annoyed at the interruption. Greg looked shocked and all the color drained from his face.
“Who the hell are you?” Blondie asked, all