"Hey, Eric." She kept her voice low, not wanting Donna to overhear. Just the name might set her off again. "I couldn't answer your text before, sorry."
"It's okay. I figured you were busy."
Was there a little edge to his voice? Surely, he wasn't still mad because she hadn't stayed over after the party. "Dinner, yes, absolutely. Do you want to stay in and order pizza or something?"
Eric made a little noise of agreement. "Mm, sure. Come over straight from work and we'll figure something out."
Driving to Eric's apartment, Jessica stretched her back this way and that, to get the sitting-at-the-computer kinks out. Fighting rush hour traffic gave her time to practice her little speech. She needed to tell him something that had happened at the Halloween party. It was embarrassing, but nothing had come of it—um, scratch that wordage! She very nearly had. Jessica cleared her throat and began again. Nothing had happened that would affect their relationship, blah, blah, blah.
By the time she parked her car behind his in the driveway of his duplex, she had a vague idea of what she'd say. Eric was wonderful. They had history. They had had some nice times together. If there wasn't much sizzle, well, maybe that was just Hollywood hooey. Seeing Donna so giddy, had made her realize that she could have that, too, with a guy she already had. He was decent, honest, nice-looking, a nice job. Oh, dear. Is he too nice? Am I that girl who wants a bad boy?
Of course not, she thought. I thought it was Eric in the bathroom. I loved that it was Eric. I thought he finally had fallen in love—oh, jeez. We're not in love! Why should I settle for anything less than spending my life with someone who adores me, and I adore him? Why can't I have what Mom and Dad had?
Even as she walked to the door, the mental wrestling match continued. She'd grown up seeing her parents cherish one another, so unlike her friends' parents, some of whom seemed to tolerate each other for the kids' sake, many of whom had eventually split up. That's what Mom wants for me, the real thing. That's why she's concerned about Eric and me.
"Hey! I'm here," she called, letting herself in with her key. Since he'd given her her own key, they'd grown closer. He was used to her being there, it seemed, slept better with her there. Was that a sufficient basis for a long-term relationship, though? The fact that she met his needs? What about hers? You're overthinking this, she told herself. Eric's a great guy.
"In the kitchen," Eric called. "Pouring myself some tea. Want some?"
"A Long Island, yes," she said, hanging her purse on the peg by the door. This was a joke. Eric didn't drink much, so what alcohol was there was probably hers. "I think there's still a bottle of wine from last—"
Jessica stood in the doorway to the kitchen, speechless. Eric stood at the sink, shirtless in a pair of jeans and looking absolutely magnificent. The afternoon sun caught his hair just right through the window, and his hair had a bit of a reddish tint to it. Strawberry blonde, she'd always called it, emphasis on the blonde, rather than the strawberry. His beard was gone.
"What?" he said, catching her staring. He seemed more relaxed than usual. Happier.
"You shaved your beard." Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strange.
"You noticed!" Eric laughed and bent to get a bottle of Shiraz from the bottom cabinet. Without being asked, he pulled the corkscrew out of the drawer which he kept, she knew, just for her, opened the bottle and poured her a glass into a goblet he also kept just for her. "Madame, zi wine is mag-ni-fique," he said, kissing his fingers for show before handing it to her.
What is he on? was her first thought. Whatever it is, I approve, was her second.
"Pizza will be here any minute," he said. "Why don't we sit?"
They sat on the dark brown couch they'd bought together at IKEA and put their feet up on the oversize matching ottoman. "What a day," they said at the same time and laughed before saying, "You first" at the same time and laughed again. And then they were quiet, sitting back, listening to the sound of their breathing.
She hoped that he would be pleased about the new editor having such confidence in her and suddenly realized that he'd already seen Worth. Obviously, he was Donna's Eric. Donna would be crushed, but there was no getting around that. She would explain why she'd been at the restaurant with Worth, what it meant, what it didn't mean. Maybe Halloween doesn't need to be mentioned at all.
She was just getting ready to speak when Eric said such an amazing thing, it took a moment to register. "What did you say?"
Eric turned to face her and held her chin in his hands, the way he had done so many times. The clean-shaven look would take some getting used to, but he looked good. "I said, I met someone."
"Who?" Maybe he'd gotten a new lead for a job or had finally become curious about others. He never had been much for small talk, one of the things that was so different between the two of them. He hated going to places like, well, the Halloween party.
Eric frowned a little for the first time that afternoon. "Now that I say it out loud, it sounds terrible. But I've got to say it. It wouldn't be right not to." He bit his
