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I didn’t find that possibility likely. I couldn’t imagine ever not wanting to lie next to him in the dark. Just the thought of giving up what we’d shared scared the shit out of me. “Why is that?”
“Because I’m not a relationship guy, and you are absolutely a woman who will want one. Until you realize that, I’m going to be selfish and keep you…at least until you tell me to bug off.”
He was so confusing. I wasn’t sure I understood what any of that meant at all. “You not being a relationship man means what? You’re doing this with multiple people at the same time as me?”
So far, we’d been really, really careful. But if he was dicking around with multiple women, I was going to carry a package of condoms on me so I was sure we were never accidentally without. Maybe he had a girl he slept with at lunch every day.
He shook his head. “I think trying to do this with anyone other than you might just kill me, beautiful. I’m old, remember?” He held up his hand. “That’s a compliment by the way.”
It was? I was going to have to digest that. “And that tells me nothing at all and doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, it didn’t. Really, it means that we don’t have future plans. By that, I don’t mean we can’t schedule dinner together. It’s that we aren’t going to be planning buying a house or raising kids. Trust me, I’ve seen that life. It’s not for me. I’m too…fucked up for that. Hope, I might seem like I’ve got it together because I’ve learned to put on a good show, but I am not. Basically, we’re friends. Who do this.” He ran his thumb over my hand, and shivers moved through my body. He only had to gently touch me, and I was always ready to go. He leaned over to kiss where he’d just stroked my hand. “You’re going to get tired ofmy bullshit eventually. Move on. That’s okay. It’ll be this strange moment in time for both of us. How we met. What happened between us. This interlude. We’ll both remember it, and at some point, wonder how it took place at all.”
He really had no idea. “Since we’re friends…” I almost choked on the words, but he wasn’t the only one who could fake being normal. Truly, Max had no idea how much we really had in common. “I want to be clear I’m not your booty call.” I might be lying. I’d probably come running if he called. Or maybe not. “We can’t go without speaking for weeks and then just have sex. I don’t think I’m built like that.”
As I spoke the words, I knew they were true. That was something. It was like I had to learn myself in these moments because I’d never had them before.
He nodded once. “Not a problem. I’ll be too busy to get together for a bit, but I will make time to communicate. I don’t expect you to fuck and go. That’s not me, either. Oh and, Hope, when you meet someone else, just end it with me. I’ll get it. I don’t want to share, but I’m not ridiculous. Move on from me whenever that happens.”
Max was being so reasonable about our connection, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kiss him or slap him. I’d do neither because they were both sort of nuts. Instead, I crawled into the bed next to him. It was enough for tonight. I might not sleep, but the danger with insomnia was not knowing that sometimes I was just plain too tired to continue on with conversations that were complicated and required finesse. I never wanted to regret saying something just because I was exhausted, although I suspected it happened more than I thought it did.
He shifted so I could snuggle up against him. I’d asked, and he’d answered my question. Now I had to figure out what to do with what he said.
Tomorrow.
I didn’t expect to sleep, and this time, I was right.
I thumbedthrough the mail on the desk in my office.Junk. Magazine. Junk.Almost no one used snail mail anymore for anything other than bills. I had one for my cell phone, but it was a double because they emailed me too. Plus, I had it on autopay. Maybe I should call and see if I could go paperless. Yep, I’d put that on the list of things to do. I had lots of time. I was unemployed. No one had called or emailed to ask me to book a party.
It was official. I was done.
I should probably get rid of the office. I had no reason to keep it anymore, and it was an expense I didn’t need. I’d do that today. Call the agent in charge, and let her know I wouldn’t be renewing at the end of the year.
My phone rang, and I grabbed it off the table where I’d set it down. I was doing a great job of not thinking about Max today. The number didn’t ring a bell, but I answered it anyway. If I got one more party to plan, I could live in denial just a little bit longer. As long as they had a charity associated with it, I was good.
“Hi, this is Hope.”
There was a pause before the person spoke. “Hope?” The woman’s voice sounded strained. It cracked halfway through my name.
“Yes? I’m sorry, who is this?”
“Oh, yes. I never called you directly. Muffy always took care of it. This is Sara, Tim’s nanny.”
The woman who was always distracted at our lunches.One thing I would say for Muffy, she might have treated Tim likean accessory, but she brought him everywhere. Tons of kids in his position were just left home with the nanny. Then they got sent to the schools I’d attended. Being left home with the nanny had been my destiny. A ton of nannies, actually. We’d moved so much, we had a new one every year or two. Some of them were great, and some of them were… Well, better not to think about that.
“Hi, Sara. How are you?” I picked up a letter and discarded it into the trash. No, I didn’t want to change my cell phone carrier. Should I be tearing or shredding these things? Could someone steal my identity based on that offer? Did Max like all kinds of whisky? Not that I should be spending money on things I didn’t have to right then, but maybe he’d like a bottle of something? Things were going to be hard. How was the surgery going? And didn’t this woman quit? Was she rehired?
“Not well.” She sounded like she was crying, and my attention immediately shifted over to her. “You didn’t hear?”
My body went cold. I didn’t know what she was about to say, but her sobs didn’t bode well. “Didn’t hear what?”
“It’s on the news.”
I hadn’t watched the news, nor had I turned on my computer. After getting a million and one notifications on my phone when Layla had been kidnapped, I’d turned off headline news notifications. “What happened?”
“They’re dead. Muffy. Martin.” Yes, that was her husband’s name. I stuttered on the thought. That wasn’t really very important at the moment, but it was all I could think about right then.Muffy’s husband’s name is Martin.Was, anyway. I could never remember his name, and so I just never thought about it. I was good at that.
But, oh no. They were dead.
