His chest tightened until he could scarcely breathe. It felt as if someone was smothering him. He got to his feet.
“Good point.”
“See you tonight?”
“One more thing.”
He shifted the phone to his other ear.
“Are you sure you don’t regret it?”
“Do
“Not at all!”
“Me, neither.”
“In fact, I hope I’m pregnant.”
He was glad he wasn’t eating anything, because he would’ve choked. “Why would you say
“No. I just...I want a baby.”
“I’m definitely not ready, Eve,” he said.
She chuckled. “I know. I’m probably scaring you to death.”
She was certainly doing that. “Promise me you won’t talk about babies for a while.”
“All right,” she said. “But it’s not as if you didn’t know.”
True. She’d brought it up more than once in the past couple of years; she’d been afraid she wouldn’t get the opportunity to have a family.
“Is Sophia okay?” she asked.
He hated that just the mention of Sophia’s name made him tense up. “She’s fine. Why wouldn’t she be?”
“I was so embarrassed when she showed up this morning and I was still there.
He walked over to the glass walls of his office and gazed down into his house, to where Sophia was vacuuming the living room a level below. Completely unaware that she was being watched, she stopped long enough to wipe sweat from her face, then went back to work as energetically as before. It was as though she’d gone into fast-forward this morning and gotten stuck there. “No. Nothing. She knows it’s none of her business.” She didn’t care, anyway. Why would she? She’d been sleeping with someone else for fourteen years.
“Sometimes, at Black Gold, I’d see a nostalgic expression on her face when she looked at you and—”
“Stop. You were imagining things.”
“You didn’t see her when I came out of your bedroom this morning. She seemed so...stricken.”
“A lot of people will be shocked when they find out about us.” Shocked and stricken weren’t exactly the same thing, but he purposely glossed over that.
“True.”
Suddenly, Sophia turned and glanced up—and when she realized he was there, watching her, she grabbed the vacuum and hurried out of sight.
“Everything will be fine,” he said. “We’ll just...take it slow.” Was he saying that to allay her fears—or his own?
“Okay,” she said.
He quickly changed the subject. “Want me to bring something tonight?”
“Condoms would be nice,” she said and hung up.
He stared at his phone. “God, what have I done?” he mumbled and knocked his head against the glass.
Sophia kept her earphones jammed in her ears, her iPod on high and her hands busy. She didn’t want to worry about anything—not what her little girl might be facing at school, whether her car would be repossessed today or why she felt so sick every time she thought of Ted with Eve. She just wanted to zone out to the music while she worked, fill the hours with so much industry that they passed with lightning speed. Then she could go home and be with Alexa and reassure herself that her daughter was safe. Her car would be in more jeopardy at home—it could disappear anytime it was located where a repo company could easily find it—but maybe getting away from Ted would enable her to gain some perspective on his unexpected relationship with Eve. She knew better than to hope
She spent the morning vacuuming, dusting and cleaning closets. Ted kept his house picked up and somewhat organized but, like most men, he didn’t do much deep cleaning. She felt she was making some real headway with that, but she had to break away to fix lunch.
Once she was back in the kitchen, she decided to serve him a grilled panini sandwich with sliced fruit on the side.
It didn’t take her long to prepare it. She tried to deliver his lunch and leave without his noticing so she could return to her music and her war on dirt. But he stopped her just as she was about to shut the door and said he wanted to go over some clerical work he needed her to do.
“Sure. I’ll give it my best,” she said and transferred his meal tray to the coffee table so she could sit down.
He took half his sandwich and came over. “You know how to boot up a computer, right?”
She gave him a look that said she wasn’t an idiot and turned on the laptop. He ate as it went through its paces but he didn’t say anything. He grabbed the rest of his sandwich while she searched for the Excel document he asked her to locate.
“This is delicious,” he said.
She didn’t look up. “Glad you’re enjoying it. You should tell me when you like one meal more than another so I can make a list of your favorites.”
“So far, the salad and sandwich have been perfect. Maybe you could try some sort of pasta tomorrow.”
“I can do that.”
She managed to open the document he wanted, but she’d never worked in Excel, didn’t know the first thing about it, so the nerves she’d experienced during her typing test began to reassert themselves.
“This won’t be as hard as it looks.” His voice was encouraging; he could tell she was a bit overwhelmed.
He brought over a thick stack of paper slips and explained that these were from people who’d signed up to be on his mailing list at the state fair and various other events. He wanted her to add them to an Excel spreadsheet so he could send out a newsletter.
“I’m just inputting names and email addresses?” she asked.
“That’s it. Data entry. Be careful not to type the name or email address incorrectly, though.”
She didn’t think that would be a problem, as long as she could read the handwriting. She’d double-check each one. “What column should I put the names in?”
“I’m about to show you.” He helped her format the page. She could smell his cologne, even feel the warmth of his body as he bent over her and used the mouse to demonstrate how to title the columns and widen them when necessary.
Fortunately, he was right. It took only a few clicks to get her going. Then the work was tedious and repetitive but easy.
As soon as she was sure she had the hang of it, she put a rubber band around the slips and started to close
