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Emily began, “Mom, you can tell us the truth. Are you—”
“No, I’m not sleeping with Mr. Gherring! Why does everyone think that? I wouldn’t do that.”
“What are you talking about? I was going to ask if you were in love with him, not if you were sleeping with him. Who thinks you’ve been sleeping with Mr. Gherring? Is that what this is about?”
Tears welled up in her eyes. How could she possibly have any tears left?
“Mom, please don’t cry,” said Charlie.
“Yes, you know we’ll both cry too,” said Emily. “And I’m driving.”
Anne studied her hands for a moment and then snuffled. “People at the office were saying I slept with him. Sam told me Tuesday. It’s silly I care so much, but I can’t help it. They think that’s why I got the promotion.” She swiped angrily at a tear on her cheek.
“That’s awful.” Charlie sniffed a few times. “Does Mr. Gherring know?”
“Yes, but he wasn’t surprised. I, on the other hand, was totally shocked. How can I be forty-five and still be this naïve? Of course that’s what people would think. I just hope…”
“What, Mom?” urged Emily.
“I’m just afraid he… that he gave me the promotion because he wants to sleep with me.” Saying the words out loud was even more devastating than simply thinking about the possibility.
“Really… I mean, why else would he promote me? I’m just a mother from Weatherford, Texas. I don’t know anything about business or investments or mergers or acquisitions. It’s really the only reason that makes sense. Now do you see why I don’t want to talk to him?”
“Mom, I really think you’re selling yourself short here,” said Charlie.
“Yeah, Mom,” said Emily. “And Mr. Gherring too. He doesn’t seem like that type to me. I know what the magazines say about him. But after spending time with him, I don’t believe it.”
“And let’s face it. If Steven Gherring wanted sex, he’d never have to go to this much trouble to get it.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Of course, her girls weren’t aware of that kiss in the apartment. The one that made her doubt her own self-control. “But for now, can we please change the subject?”
I refuse to think about it until I have to.
Back in New York
Anne felt guilty about returning to New York on Sunday, leaving Emily with so much responsibility. But Minnie and Mr. Greenly had offered to keep Gandalf, and her father had promised to follow the doctor’s orders and take it easy while recovering at Emily’s apartment.
Meanwhile, she felt like she’d been squeezed through the wringer of an antique washer. The sole passenger on Gherring’s jet, she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. But she refused to go back and lay down in the master bedroom. She was determined to avoid the thoughts that would surely invade her mind if she were to lie down in Steven's bed.
Her plan was to grab a taxi and go straight home to sleep. Maybe she’d take just one Benadryl to make sure she got a good night’s sleep.
The plane landed smoothly, and she waited for it to taxi to a stop. She already had her suitcases in hand when the pilot came back to open the door. He exited down the ladder in front of her, carrying her large bag while she followed behind. When she reached the ground, someone took her carry-on from her hand.
“I’ve got the car warmed up, waiting for us,” said Steven.
A rock lodged itself somewhere in her chest. She’d hoped to avoid being alone with Steven Gherring before going to work on Monday morning. Now she had no choice but to follow him to the waiting limousine. Still, she was grateful for the expedited trip back to the apartment. Perhaps she could keep the topic of conversation on safe ground. Work… she had to talk about work.
She crawled int
o the car and sat down in the middle of the shorter side seat. He took a seat on the opposite side, per her plan.
“I’ll bet we’ve had some calls from Bern during the Thanksgiving holidays,” Anne said. “I plan to start on that first thing in the morning. I’ll be at work early.”
“That sounds like a good plan, if you feel up to it. Are you sure you’re ready to go back to work tomorrow?”
“I’m fine. I’m not tired at all.” She stifled a yawn. “That was just the power of suggestion. We’ve got the Christmas party this Saturday night. And I forgot to ask if I’m supposed to contact the publicist about an escort for that party.”
“I usually don’t take a date to the company Christmas party… unless I’m actually dating someone. Are you planning to take someone to the party?”
