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“I think I might.” She was beginning to realize that that was the choice she faced. Because if she decided not to buy the White Orchid, then she knew she was telling herself she couldn’t stay there forever. Either the store was her future, or her future lay somewhere else. But where? She couldn’t imagine.
“What would you do?” he asked, his thumb feathering along the edge of her hand.
Beth closed her eyes and lost herself in that feeling. She’d never been offered physical comfort by a man, because she’d never been able to get past the initial stages of awkward intimacy. This was…nice. If only it was midnight instead of 2:00 p.m. She could just lie like this all night, her hand cradled in his, his shoulder pressed to hers.
“I don’t know what I’d do,” she finally admitted. “I like helping people. I like that some people come in lost and embarrassed and I make them feel better. And I like that women want to be happy and fulfilled and we can help them find that.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“It’s not just about the naughtiness or the sex. At least once a week a woman will confess to me that she’s never had an orgasm. Can you even imagine life without orgasms?”
“No,” he said flatly. “That’s not something men have to worry about.”
“Exactly! And those are just the women who are brave enough to come into the store. There are so many who aren’t.”
“Is that why you write the column?”
Her eyes popped open. No, that wasn’t why she wrote the column. She did that because Annabelle had asked her to, and because it was good publicity for the store. Maybe that was why her heart wasn’t in it. “Whatever happens, I’ll figure it out,” she said. “But I was a little lost today. So thanks for meeting me.”
“Of course. It was no problem.”
She laughed at the wry humor in his voice. Here was the perfect chance to end the conversation. To get up and make noise about going back to the store. But Beth just lay there and held tight to Eric’s hand. She couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t hurt her, but she knew without a doubt that she felt safe right now, and it had been a very long time since anyone had given her that.
“I know you must be busy,” she whispered. “But if you’re not, can I see you tonight?”
He watched her, waiting for her to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t look. She couldn’t. “I told you I’d give you anything you want,” he said.
Beth turned her head away so he wouldn’t see the tear that slipped down her cheek. It wasn’t sadness. It was just relief.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SHE DROVE STRAIGHT BACK to the store, her relaxation sneaking away with each second. It was almost three and she couldn’t be late for her meeting, but she just wanted to be alone for a few more minutes.
And, if she was being truthful with herself, she wanted to put off going back to work. When Eric had asked, she’d been honest about her reasons for loving the White Orchid. But some of those reasons were starting to fade, taken over by the feeling that she was faking her way through every day.
She also didn’t want to let go of her afternoon with Eric. Her pulse sped at the thought of him. She’d see him again tonight, which was both thrilling and frightening. They were getting too close, too fast. Still, she wanted more. More time and sex and secret moments. More of this life she’d never had before.
She rolled down her window, knowing her hair would be a wild mess, but she didn’t care. Maybe they’d all think she’d been rolling around in bed. Maybe she’d let them.
She pulled up to the store at 2:58, acutely aware that in four more hours she’d be leaving again, going back to him. To his place this time, to his bed. Was he thinking about her right now? The idea that he’d read her columns, that he thought of her when she wasn’t with him… Did he fantasize about her the way she had him?
Beth was so distracted by her thoughts as she grabbed her purse and got out of her car, she didn’t notice the man who emerged from the backseat of an SUV a few spaces down. Not until he said her name.
“Beth,” the man barked. She stumbled to a halt as Roland Kendall strode toward her.
She took a step backward, casting a quick glance around to be sure they weren’t alone. But it was a busy afternoon. The door of the shop opened and customers walked out. A runner passed by on the sidewalk. She wasn’t alone.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want you to drop this.”
She took another step back, hoping to put some distance between them. His balding head was flushed red, his narrow eyes glinting with anger.
“This isn’t about me, Mr. Kendall. The police have all the information.”
“You did this,” he snapped. “And you’ll fix it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. They already know what Monica said. I can’t take that back, even if I wanted to.”
