Why Not Tonight?

Mallory had to swallow twice to locate her voice. When she found it, it was accompanied by a tidal wave of anger. “I’d ask you the same thing, but there’s no need since it’s pretty obvious.”

The blonde flipped her hair and heaved a put-upon sigh. “Listen, I know I look just like Pam Anderson, but I’m not her.”

While a bark of incredulous, humorless laughter escaped Mallory, Greg muttered a round of curses and rolled Blondie off him. Blondie didn’t take too kindly to that, however, and promptly rolled to her knees and slammed her hands onto her hips. Mallory, still shocked into immobility, dimly noted that the woman not only had an obvious boob job, but she wasn’t a natural blonde.

Way more than she needed to know. Definitely time to get the hell out of this den of horrors. After snatching up her purse, she turned, then walked swiftly down the hallway on shaking legs toward the front door.

“Mallory, wait,” came Greg’s voice, followed by more curses, then a terse “Stay here”-presumably to Blondie.

She quickened her pace and had just opened the door when he grabbed her arm. Mallory whipped around and skewered him with a look, and, if looks could cut throats, he’d have bled all over his white ceramic tiles. Her gaze flicked down, noting he was still naked. And obviously startled.

“Take your hand off me. Now. Unless you want a new career singing soprano for the Vienna Boys’ Choir.”

He instantly released her. “Mallory, listen to me. This-”

“Isn’t what it looks like?”

“No, it’s not.”

She debated smacking him upside his cheating head with her purse but quickly discarded the idea. Her purse was heavy enough to put him in traction and, tempting as that sounded, he wasn’t worth being charged with assault over. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and adopted an exaggerated stunned expression.

“You mean this isn’t a case of me walking in while you were boffing some bimbo? Then do enlighten me. I’m all agog to hear.”

Color washed into his pale face. “I can’t stand it when you’re sarcastic.”

“My heart’s bleeding for you. Really. And if I had another six hours to waste on you, I’d be delighted to tell you all the things I can’t stand about you.”

His flush deepened. “I know this looks like I just picked up some woman, but it’s not that way. I met Mandy three months ago, and, well, we’ve fallen in love. I had every intention of telling you tomorrow that I’d met someone else.”

“Really? Before or after you bought her a Happy Meal?”

“She’s not that much younger than me, damn it. She’s twenty.”

“How perfect that her age and IQ match.”

He had the gall to look pissed at her. “I’ll have you know,” he said stiffly, “she hopes to be a lawyer someday.”

“Right. And in the meanwhile, she’ll just screw lawyers. You two are perfect for each other.” She yanked open the front door. He moved as if he meant to grab her arm again and she shot him a look that could have incinerated raw meat.

“What about my stuff that’s at your place?” Greg asked. “Can I come over tomorrow and get it?”

Mallory couldn’t help but laugh. “Jeez, you’ve really got balls.” Her gaze flicked down to his crotch. “Hmm. Maybe not. Anyway, I don’t want you, or your stuff, in my house. I’ll box everything up and send it to you.”

“All right. I’ll do the same for you.” His eyes narrowed. “You won’t wreck my clothes or CDs, will you?”

“Clearly I need to point out that I am not the one behaving badly here. Besides, I wouldn’t waste my time or energy. I would, however, ask for your key to my house.” She started removing his house key from her ring.

“Fine.” He stalked down the hallway toward his bedroom.

“Do us both a favor and put on some pants,” she said sweetly.

He entered the bedroom and Mallory heard Blondie ask, “Who the hell is she and what the hell is going on?”

Mallory cleared her throat then called out loudly, “As for who the hell I am-I’m the girlfriend he’s had for the past eight months. He says he was going to tell me about you tomorrow, so maybe that’s when he was also going to tell you about me.” Mallory paused and smiled grimly at Melon Boobs’s gasp. “As for what the hell’s going on,” she continued, “Jerk-off’s putting on some pants, thank God, and getting me the key to my house, which I’d given him. As soon as it’s in my hand, he’s all yours.”

Seconds later Greg strode from the bedroom-wearing pants, thank God-his expression resembling a thundercloud. Melon Boobs followed close on his heels, her ample assets barely covered by Greg’s dress shirt.

Mallory held out her hand and Greg slapped her key into it. She then dropped his key into his outstretched palm.

Melon Boobs shot Mallory a nasty glare. “He was all mine before he gave you back your key, honey.”

“Uh-huh. And what a prize he is.” Mallory shook her head. “You know, Candy-”

“Mandy,” the young woman said through clenched teeth.

“-I actually feel sorry for you. This guy has proven himself to be nothing more than a lying, cheating bottom- feeder. I’m thinking you can do better. I know I can. But he’s your problem now. I wish you both luck.”

Without a backward glance, she sailed through the doorway and quickly entered her car. Just get away, just get away, her inner voice chanted. At the end of the block, well out of sight of Greg’s house, she pulled into the strip mall on the corner and immediately parked at the far end of the lot, in front of an Italian bakery. Then she leaned her head back against the headrest, closed her eyes and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths.

Good God, she was shaking. And even though she tried to will them away, hot tears leaked from beneath her eyelids and trailed down her cheeks. Damn it, she did not want to cry. She shoved the wetness aside with impatient fingers, but a fresh onslaught of tears spilled over.

Had she ever been this angry? This humiliated? If so, she couldn’t recall. But she was more than angry-she was furious. At him. And herself. And that snarky, melon-boobed bimbo. But mostly him.

That bastard! He’d not only cheated on her, he’d been cheating on her for months. How mortifying and degrading was that?

But then anger at herself boiled over, washing everything else aside. This was the guy she’d believed steady? Stable? Dependable? How could she have been so stupid? So blind? Such a sap? So willing to go that extra mile to try to fix things between them? Even going so far as having those boudoir photos taken? Well, thank God she’d discovered the truth before she’d humiliated herself further by giving him those.

At the thought of the pictures, an image of Adam rose behind her closed eyes, pushing a humorless laugh past her tight throat. How ironic that she’d felt so guilty about her attraction to Adam. Obviously she hadn’t needed to worry.

Keeping her eyes closed, she sat perfectly still for several minutes, concentrating on her relaxing breathing techniques while gathering her scattered thoughts. When the tears stopped flowing and her heart rate had settled and she felt calmer, she took a detailed emotional inventory.

Angry? Oh, yeah. Humiliated? Check. Self-disgust for being a trusting fool? Yup. Relieved?

Yes.

Her eyes popped open and she pulled the clip from her hair then tunneled her hands through the strands. Blowing out a long, slow breath, she continued. Hurt?

Nope.

Heartbroken?

No way.

And that irrevocably answered the “did she love Greg” question she hadn’t been able to answer earlier. Obviously she didn’t for if she did, she’d be devastated and brokenhearted instead of pissed. Which told her exactly how lucky she was to be rid of him. With her new twenty-twenty hindsight guiding her, she clearly saw that they’d