“Nuzzling?”
“Exact word he used.”
“Kissing her neck... I think that’s what he meant,” Angela said as she looked down and sat her cup of tea on the table. It’s not like she hadn’t done worse herself.
“I’m sorry, Angela.”
“The truth is… we were over before this.”
Krysta was shocked. “Does this have anything to do with that gorgeous guy, Michael?” She jumped off her seat and sat beside Angela. “Oh please tell me it does.”
“Well, yes and no—”
“Tell me more.”
“Well, I’m not with Michael either—”
“You should be. He is so hot.”
“Well,he hasmade me realize that I don’t love Robert.” Angela wanted to tell her all about the close call they had had; the way he had touched her, perfect in every way. But this wasn’t the time. She was full of emotions; guilt, betrayal, fear, sadness. She was a mess.
She left a message home for Robert, telling him she was spending the night at Krysta’s – maybe he would know she knew.
First thing Angela did upon her return was to call Christine Thompson, and tell her she’d love the job. It was all settled. She would start the following Monday. She couldn’t wait. What would she do all week in the meantime?
Robert had left her another note on the kitchen counter asking for her famous spaghetti. The gall of him, she thought. Obviously he hadn’t made the connection between running into Krysta’s friend and her absence last night. He didn’t know she knew; otherwise he certainly wouldn’t be asking for spaghetti. There would be no spaghetti tonight. Or maybe there would; she reached into the cupboard and grabbed a can of ready-made spaghetti, which she kept for Madison who went absolutely crazy for it.
She took a shower before lunch, and could not erase the picture of Michael from her head. As she cleaned her wet naked body, her mind took her back to the way Michael had touched her; his warm tender touch.
What is wrong with me?
She couldn’t avoid the inevitable. She would have to go and say goodbye sometime this week, before she went to work the following Monday. She would have to call him to see if he and Dot would be available to talk. She had to get this over with now.
Wrapped in her plush bathrobe, she sat on her bed and made the dreaded call on the private number Michael had given her.
“Hello. Michael Bowman,” he answered in his usual low voice.
“Hi, Michael. This is Angela.”
“Oh... Hi, Angela. How was your drive home?”
Angela had absolutely no time for small talk. She wanted to get right to the point. “Good...listen Michael, are you around today?”
“I’m in this afternoon. Why?”
“Can I come over?”
Angela was met with silence on the other end of the line.
“Don’t do this to me Angela.”
“No, I just need to—”
“To tempt me and walk away. I’m staying away next Monday.”
“Well, that’s just it. I won’t be there next Monday. I got the job!”
“That’s fantastic,” Michael said with a mix of happiness and sadness. “You’ll be great.”
