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“I never stay at Amber’s when she’s there, but she’s back on tour, so her place is empty.”
Ellie purses her lips. I can feel her resolve weakening. She’s intrigued to see Amber’s place, and I have no problem exploiting that desire to get my way. “It’s the penthouse.”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Let me tell Kelsey I’m going out. Meet me out front?”
“Wow.” Ellie gawks about thirty minutes later when the elevator doors slide open.
Amber’s New York penthouse is spectacular. It goes without saying that she has money to burn, but her penthouse reflects more than just wealth. The main room is enormous and eclectic. It has a kitchen, dining room, and two sitting areas. The walls are exposed brick, the floors are refurbished wood and are dotted with expensive rugs, and the furniture is artfully arranged. It’s comfortable and fashionable at the same time. I can’t blame Ellie for being impressed.
After a quick tour, during which she comments on practically everything, we peruse our delivery options. When we decide, I order and we settle on the couch. I crack open a bottle of wine. Combined with the low lighting, it creates an ambiance we’ve never had before. It’s romantic and I want to hate it…but I can’t because I’m too busy hoping it’ll seduce the girl next to me.
The urge to hit her with another full-body tackle is strong, but for some reason I’m waiting for her to make the first move. It’s hard for me to tell if she’s interested; I can’t read her any better now than I could before we slept together.
As I sip my wine, I consider taking off my shirt to see if my bare chest is enough to inspire her.
“I saw your interview with Annabelle Singer,” she says, dashing any hope that she’s imagining me naked.
I grimace. Nothing kills romance faster than cheating. “Cam and Judy thought it was necessary. They want people to like me.” I lick my lips. “Aren’t you going to ask?”
“Ask what?” She peers at me curiously.
“Whether it’s true.”
She snorts. “Is that a joke?”
“You—”
She interrupts me. “You didn’t cheat.” Her words are definitive.
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Her automatic defense sets me off balance. Plenty of people in my life are loyal, but few throw their weight behind me without question, and no one outside of my family defends me.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“You would never lose on purpose. You want to win, no matter the cost.”
It’s a compliment, and yet… “So, you think I’d cheat to win?”
She leans toward me, her face scrunched. “Of course not. Cheating—in any form—would cheapen the game you love.”
She’s right. I’m both humbled and surprised by her faith in me, and I’m desperate to see her naked again. “Do you want to have sex?”
So much for waiting for her to make the first move. She smiles, and then she laughs…and then she tackles me.
NINETEEN
ELLIE
When I was a child, I bought into fairy tales. I believed the prince swooped in and rescued the princess from every type of evil. I wasn’t bothered by the implied neediness of the princess. Nor by the one-dimensional depth of the prince. He was handsome and brave, and as far as I was concerned, nothing else was important.
When my father left, the fairy tale was demolished with a jackhammer.
Love was not everlasting. My father wasn’t a hero, but my mother couldn’t help wanting to be rescued anyway. His reasons for leaving confused me, and her hope that he’d come back confused me even more.
A ten-year-old can’t possibly sift through the emotional baggage of divorce and make a reasonable conclusion about whether love is worth the risk. The uncertainty I felt left me cautious and unsteady, so I tried to uncover the answer for myself. I studied sociology and psychology. I went to graduate school and got my doctorate and then became a therapist.
