"I was groomed for this, Megan. It’s just... normal. I work hard, and I try to enjoy the finer things. That’s all. And I smoke so I don't kill anyone."
The conversation turns to art. Like me, she appreciates paintings and sculpture but has no patience for surrealism. I lose track of time until I glance at my watch. I know I should play hard to get.
Our legs brush under the table, and as a tease, I slide my foot up toward her shin. The atmosphere is surprisingly pleasant, but I have business to attend to regarding DC. I check my phone and realize forty minutes have flown by.
"Well, this was wonderful, Kelsey, but I really have to go. I have a meeting." She stands as I set my napkin down, pulling my chair back for me.
We walk side-by-side to the door in a heavy, awkward silence. The others have already cleared out. We’re alone.
"Would you like to take a walk in Central Park?"
"Don't take this the wrong way, but being seen wandering the park with a woman I just cleared of a lawsuit wouldn't be great for my reputation," I say, meeting those green eyes.
She takes a step toward me. It’s invasive, yet when I feel her hand on my waist again those subtle, sensual fingertips that send a shiver through me, it feels strangely familiar.
"No one will see us," she whispers, leaning in. I place my palm against her chest to maintain a sliver of distance. "We’ll go after the park closes. Just an evening stroll. That’s all."
"Monday," I sigh. I can feel the pull of her mouth; she smells of expensive strawberries and yogurt.
"I’ll meet you at the lake bridge at 5:00 PM. Vanessa will wait for you outside and guide you in." I smile, amused by the ideaof doing something so "simple" with someone who has spent her life shrouded in secrecy.
"Fine. I’ll be there." I gesture toward the hallway and smile. She leans in and kisses my cheek.
"Megan..."
"Yes?" I turn back halfway down the hall at the sound of her husky voice.
"I don't treat every woman this way, if that’s what you’re thinking." I wonder if she’s a mind reader. "Can I text you?" Even though I haven't given her my number, I know she can get it. I nod.
"See you tomorrow, Kelsey." I hit the elevator button, and minutes later, I’m in my room, video-calling a shouting Sarki.
"Are you serious? A private walk in the park after hours? That’s literally my top sexual fantasy! And I’m obsessed with the Senator story. I have to know if it’s true."
"Sarki, please! I’m not sleeping with her." I rest my chin on my hand. "At least not tomorrow. And yes, find out! I’m dying to know the truth."
"Do you even have the escort's name?"
"No. I know, I’m a terrible gossip."
"Clearly! Lisa told me yesterday that you need to let loose. You have enough pressure at work... let yourself enjoy this."
"Easy for you to say. You can marry whoever you want and have sex without worrying about blackmail." Sarki rolls her eyes.
"If only. But you have this habit of needing to control everything, every step, every detail. When was the last time you actually had sex?"
"With Peter?"
"With anyone!"
"Two years ago, maybe? A class reunion. An old schoolmate."
"And then there was that whole mistress situation. Peter was an idiot about that. He should have just talked to you. He knows how you feel about 'the other woman.'"
"Everyone has them, Sarki. It’s not the act itself that’s the problem; it’s the lack of transparency. Peter forgot I was his business partner first."
"And you didn't exactly remind him he was your husband, either."
"Honestly, I was relieved he found someone else to occupy his time so he’d leave me alone. It only got annoying when he stopped showing up where he was supposed to. Can we please drop him?"
