Subject:Important
We need to talk. This isn’t over, and you know it. Come by my office when you get off today.
DAVID DYLAN
SENIOR ARCHITECT
PIERSON/GREER
On the heels of David’s e-mail came a message from Bill, informing me that he’d be by at five o’clock to pick me up from work. I sighed. I had things to do that would keep me well past five, but they would have to wait.
David’s commanding tone both irked and flustered me, even over e-mail. I began contemplating a response when Serena popped her head in my office. “Hey, boss. Beman wants to see you.”
I ran my hand over my face in frustration. I couldn’t seem to get a moment to myself today.
“Are you okay?” Serena asked.
“Fine,” I chirped. “Just fine.”
When Beman had finished upbraiding me for one of Lisa’s errors, I stormed back to my office and shot off an e-mail to David.
From:Olivia Germaine
Sent:Wed, October 03 02:58 PM CDT
To:David Dylan
Subject:Re: Important
David—
I can’t.
Olivia Germaine
Senior Editor
Chicago Metropolitan Magazine
ChicagoMMag.com
I quickly scanned another e-mail from Bill, which ended by asking what I was making for dinner. I groaned, surrendering to the fact that there would be no peace today.
And about that, I was right. Hearing from David stuck with me all afternoon and hurtled me into an open state of brooding. I played Saturday night over and over until my hands shook as I copy edited. My mind wouldn’t let it rest. He wanted to talk. What was there to say? He said it wasn’t over—but didn’t he know that it was over before it had even begun?
I dreamed violently that night. Bill, David, and Mark Alvarez each angrily demanded something from me. I had lied to them, they told me. I had made fools of them. I was the cancer in their lives. When Mark called me names, David and Bill stood back and nodded their agreement.
I woke heavily at the edge of dawn, wishing I could sleep for days upon days. Gray clouds mirrored my unrest. As Bill showered, I crawled out of our warm bed and slogged into the kitchen for coffee. I didn’t want to upset Bill again, so I decided to cover my foul mood with pancakes, prepared with equal parts guilt and love.
As planned, the pancakes diverted his attention. He came out of the bedroom in a suit, tie, and a wide smile. “This is a surprise,” he said excitedly and rubbed his stomach. “I was going to grab something on my way to work. Have I told you lately what a wonderful wife you are?”
How could he not see that I wasterrible? How could he not sense David on me, in me, taking over my thoughts, commanding my body? I let Bill kiss me on the cheek as I stared at the griddle with my spatula cocked.
After retrieving theTribunefrom our doorstep, he said, “Looks like rain out there.”
“Great,” I muttered and flipped one pancake after another.Flip, splat. Flip, splat. Flip, splat.
“Hopefully it won’t go through the weekend. I made an appointment with Jeanine on Saturday.”
