Indivisible Line

by Lorenz Font

  Sarah gave a nervous laugh, and she felt flustered all of a sudden. “What movie would you like to see?” It didn’t matter to her. Just the fact that they’d be together gave her goose bumps.

  “The last time I went to watch a movie was two or three years ago.” He laughed, looking sheepish. “I was hoping you’d take the burden off my shoulders and choose for us. I’m good with anything.” When she raised her eyebrow, he added, “Really.”

  “Where do I look for movie listings?”

  Greg pulled out his sleek Blackberry and punched some keys before he presented the phone to her. “Choose from the list, and scroll down if you need to see more.”

  Just like that, she was going to see a movie with him. Sarah glanced at Greg before focusing her attention on the phone. She felt his eyes on her while she scanned through the list. She wasn’t much into chick flicks, though she thought Zac Efron was cute. Feeling a little mischievous, she decided to see how Greg would react.

  “How about The Lucky One?”

  The Lucky One was a love story in which the main character, Logan Thibault, was a soldier who found a picture of a woman in the desert and set out to find her after his tour of duty was over.

  If Greg hated the idea, he didn’t show it. “Sure, if that’s what you like.”

  She laughed. “Nah … I don’t care for chick flicks, although I love looking at Zac.”

  “Keep looking, then.” Greg shook his head.

  Sarah scrolled down to the end of the list. “If you’re okay with scary movies, I’d like to see The Cabin in the Woods. I’ve heard good things about it.”

  He nodded as a slow, wicked smile flashed across his face. “Whatever you like. I’m good to go. Shall we?” Greg stood and held out his hand to her.

  She hesitated, staring up at him for a nanosecond before placing her hand in his.

  In a way, it was a monumental step for her. She was placing her trust in him. As much as she tried to warn herself against it, she couldn’t ignore that she wanted him to touch her.

  He squeezed her hand before pulling her up to her feet.

  When she noticed his office attire, she frowned. She felt a little sloppy in comparison, dressed as she was in just a sweater, jeans, and mukluks. “Aren’t you going home to change first?”

  “Hate to be seen with your father?” Greg laughed and feigned hurt by clasping a hand over his heart.

  Sarah hit him on the shoulder. “You’re not that old. You may be stiff at times, but I don’t mind being seen with you.”

  “Stiff, huh?” He snorted before nudging her forward.

  Greg tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her through the crowded sidewalk. They spotted the black limousine parked a hundred feet away, Simon leaning against the door. He straightened as soon as he spotted them.

  “Where to?” Flashing a wide smile, Simon held the door open for them.

  “The movie theater. It’s three blocks down and on the right,” Greg replied. He let her climb into the car first before following her.

  They sat next to each other, and Greg nonchalantly took her hand. Funny, she didn’t mind it one bit. In fact, she liked the sensation of his soft skin pressed against hers. One touch told her so much about him—the firmness of his steadfast confidence and the softness from his life of privilege.

  His hands were so unlike her own calloused ones, which had been through all manual work imaginable. She had washed dishes, chopped firewood, hand-washed clothes, and tilled their vegetable garden. It seemed like she’d done it all.

  The drive to the theater had been quick, despite the evening rush hour traffic. When they stepped out of the vehicle, the night air had already turned cold, and Sarah shivered in her flimsy sweater. Greg hurried to remove his coat and place it over her shoulders.

  “Thanks.” She gave him a grateful smile. “What about you?”

  He beamed at her in response. “You’re welcome. I’ll be warm if you let me keep holding your hand.”

  The prospect of continuing to hold Greg’s hand excited her. This evening was turning out better than she’d anticipated. What had started as another drawn-out afternoon of solitude was turning into an evening full of promise.

  Sarah squeezed his hand in hers and nudged him to start walking. “I guess we can call it even, then.”

  “I will see you kids in a couple of hours.” Simon grinned through the limousine window before it drove away. Greg turned and waved and then walked up to the theater booth. Without letting go of Sarah’s hand, he managed to retrieve his wallet, pull out a credit card, and finish the transaction.

  “Popcorn?”

  “If we can share.”

  “Sure. I’m famished. I didn’t get a chance to eat when I got home. Once I found out you were gone, we took off.” Looking a bit self-conscious about this admission, Greg shrugged and leaned on the glass counter to place their orders.

  Once seated inside the theater, Sarah chuckled at the amount of food Greg had bought. There were nachos, hotdogs, and pretzels in addition to the popcorn and sodas.

  “Are we pigging out tonight?” She eyed the collection of goodies on their laps and shook her head. Greg took a big bite off his hotdog and chewed with enthusiasm, a trail of ketchup trickling down the side of his mouth. Sarah reached out and dabbed at it with a napkin without hesitation.

  He laughed, but he kept on chewing. After he’d swallowed, he spoke. “Yes, and I expect you to finish half of everything.”

  Sarah wrinkled her nose, although deep down, she loved this easygoing Greg. It was a far cry from the detached man he’d been for the past weeks. Feeling more relaxed around him, she took a bite of her hotdog. Soon it became a silent contest to see who could finish their food first. True to his word, Greg proved that he was indeed hungry. He ate faster than anyone she’d ever seen. It was a wonder how a man who ate as much as he did could remain so slim and fit.

  After a few more minutes, the lights dimmed and the trailers started. Greg stashed their garbage underneath his seat and resumed holding her hand. It seemed like a natural thing for him to do. Although he offered no words, the mere touch of his hand spoke volumes. Everything about it felt right to her.

  The movie lasted a little less than two hours. Instead of walking out right after, they sat and watched the credits roll while the crowd piled toward the exit. Greg still held her hand, just like he had before the movie started.

  “Hungry?” he asked, and she burst out laughing.

  “Greg, you’re killing me.”

  “I could never do that.” He shook his head with vigor, his voice low.

  Rising from his seat, Greg tugged on her hand, and she stood. When he pulled her to him, Sarah felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. His fingers trailed the contours of her jaw, electrifying her with the boldness of his action. She had no idea what possessed her, but she rose on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his.

  His hand encircled her waist, tugging her closer. When their bodies touched, it sent jolts of warmth along her skin. The hard plane of his thigh rubbed against hers, and her breath hitched with anticipation. In this moment, it was just the two of them, together. Nothing else mattered—not the circumstances that had brought them together, nor the uncertainty of their future and the vast differences that divided them.

  His mouth claimed hers, soft and gentle. Greg probed and sucked, his tongue caressing hers. Sarah’s response was more passionate than she would have thought possible. Her arms wound around his neck, and they deepened the kiss even more. With her limited experience with men, her belief that they worked, that they were good together, was based just on how wonderful his kiss felt. Greg’s arms around her revealed sensitivities in parts of her body she never knew existed.

  Just as soon as she allowed herself to let go and just feel, Sarah realized she had to end it. It could lead them nowhere except to trouble and heartache. He was married. The last thing she wanted to add to her increasing list of blunders was to be accuse
d of being an adulterer. That wasn’t something she could envision herself doing, even though it was clear that she liked him as much as he liked her. They were destined to share more than friendship—she was sure of it—but under the circumstances, nothing could happen, even if her body tried to betray her.

  “You smell wonderful,” Greg said, sounding dazed.

  She didn’t need this complication. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I don’t know what came over me.” She pulled away and began walking toward the exit.

  “I’m not sorry at all. I’ve always wanted to do that.” Greg was right behind her, pulling her around to face him. His compelling gaze was enough to unravel her resolve, and she fought the urge to kiss him again.

  “It’s wrong, Greg. I promise it won’t happen again. It was a lapse in judgment on my part.”

  “I won’t make that promise.”

  With those words, he brought his mouth down on hers again. This time, his kiss was hurried, hungry. Time stood still, and she let out a long moan, surrendering herself to his long, needy, and urgent kiss. Just this time, she told herself. After they surfaced for air, she pushed him away. She had to.

  “Let’s go home. It’s been a long day.” She walked away without looking back. If she faltered now, there would be no guarantee she’d be able to make herself stop. Despite what her body wanted, she had to be strong, stay focused, and keep believing that none of this meant anything to him.

  “Sarah!” Greg called out.

  She kept walking until she spotted the limousine parked in front, giving Simon a weak smile before climbing in. Greg was soon settled in next to her, and they made the short drive back to his place in silence. Sarah stared unseeing out the window. If Simon noticed anything strange, he didn’t mention it, although he sent occasional questioning glances Greg’s way.

  Greg walked Sarah from the car and into the penthouse. When they reached her bedroom door, she stopped to wish him a good night.

  “Thanks for the movie.” And the kiss.

  She turned around without waiting for his response, but his arm wound around her waist and pulled her to face him.

  Sarah raised her chin and looked up at him. “Greg, we can’t …”

  He stopped her. “And I still can’t promise I won’t do this.” His mouth came down on hers in one quick, fluid motion. He tasted her mouth again, and all she could do was hang on, too startled and dazed to resist.

  As fast as the kiss came, it ended, leaving her flustered and confused. Greg walked to his door and, with a slight dip of his head in her direction, disappeared inside.

  Sarah walked straight to the shower, hoping the warm spray would ease her tired muscles. A long one, perhaps, might do the trick.

  Greg marched into the bathroom after he left Sarah in the hallway. Even though he’d wanted to stay and keep kissing her, the better part of him—the reasonable side—kept telling him that he was taking advantage of her. She was confused and alone, and no matter what it looked like, she trusted him. The first thing he’d done with that trust was to abuse it just because he couldn’t contain his urge to claim her.

  He’d felt this way from the very first time he saw her. Even in the tense situation at the time, he had seen the passionate woman hidden underneath her quiet exterior.

  Simon had warned him several times that this relationship, or whatever it was, had disaster written all over it. He could see the telltale signs, but he couldn’t stay away from her. The woman, with her beautiful face and her scent of mint and cedar, made his head spin.

  Turning the shower valve all the way to cold, he walked under the spray. He wanted the icy blast to wash away the fevered thoughts he was experiencing, as well as his body’s reaction to his encounter with Sarah.

  Making a mental note to try harder to keep his hands off her next time, Greg finished his shower. He promised himself he would stick to his resolve and resist her charms. It was a good start, just as long as his body would take heed and listen.

  He was sitting in bed and halfway through one of Warren Buffett’s books when his phone rang. He put the volume down and checked his caller ID.

  “What’s new, Trevor?”

  “Mr. Andrews, we hit a little snag.” Trevor cut to the chase.

  Greg liked the man. There was no beating around the bush with the guy—he’d call things what they were.

  “What kind of snag?” Greg leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs.

  “It’s Mr. McPherson. We’ve been trailing him for several days to ascertain his permanent residence. He is now living in Los Angeles.” Trevor coughed and continued with noticeable reluctance. “We found him meeting with Mrs. Andrews in a restaurant today.”

  Greg rolled his eyes. “Trevor, tell me something I don’t know. We’ve been expecting this. It was just a matter of time before we caught those two together. So give me his address.” Greg reached in his nightstand drawer for a Mont Blanc pen and was poised to write.

  “Mr. Andrews … it’s not your wife we found dining with Cade McPherson. It was your mother. She met wi—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Greg’s voice rose, and for once he didn’t give a damn. He made no effort to mask his anger.

  “It was your mother we saw with Mr. McPherson two nights ago, and we have pictures to prove it.” Trevor’s tone seemed apologetic, and Greg heard no more. He hurled the telephone across the room and watched it slam against the wall, snapping into several pieces before it hit the floor.

  Chapter 12

  The next day, Sarah left for the library as soon as Greg’s footsteps crossed the hall to his study. After their encounter the evening before, she wasn’t too crazy about seeing him. She left a note with Matilda, to be given to Greg whenever he emerged. Pulling her jacket close to her body, she braved the biting morning breeze and set out on the ten-minute walk to the library.

  Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of kissing Greg. She still couldn’t understand what had possessed her to instigate it and to allow him to repeat it over and over. Well … she knew why—she had wanted it more than she dared admit. Her shock was caused by her willingness to let things happen rather than the act itself.

  Sarah wasn’t an expert in relationships or anything to do with male-female interaction. Even to her amateur eyes, she could see that what they had shared last night had been special. Greg was special.

  The more she thought about it, the more she hated the way her body responded to Greg. She was afraid that her self-control was no defense against Greg’s charm and presence. Although she wasn’t a prude by any means, he was still a married man. That alone should send her packing, not acting like a crazed nymphomaniac. Nothing about Greg guaranteed she would come out unscathed after everything had been said and done. How many times would it take her to repeat these warnings in her head before she listened?

  After gathering the materials she needed for the day, Sarah set out to try to study. She scattered books across the library table, intending to spend more time studying and less thinking about Greg.

  With her concentration veering toward Gregory Andrews III several times, she still managed to cram in the necessary studying. Med school hadn’t been easy, and Columbia was proving itself to be tough enough to keep her on her toes. It was a good thing that she was up to the task, and she intended to graduate with good grades on time, if not earlier.

  Glancing around the quiet library, she noticed a few early patrons like her. Young and old, these people were intent on getting as much done as possible in the morning and beating the influx in the later hours.

  The silent ticking of the clock at the far end of the room provided a steady cadence, which kept her going. She had six hours before her first class for the evening. If she read fast enough and got her work completed, she might have the chance to walk around and check for job openings.

  Sarah wondered how long her arrangement with Greg would last. He couldn’t have any intention of babysitting her for t
he duration of the school year. Why would he even care to waste time on her, anyway? New York City, although a small land mass compared to bigger cities like Los Angeles and Chicago, packed a punch as far as population. It should have something to offer her, despite her lack of professional experience.

  Greg had mentioned he wanted her around because of the pathology testing to come. He wanted to find out where her inexperienced work had led them and which of the side-effects he’d been plagued with had stemmed from her improvised blood transfusion. Still, he seemed healthier each passing day. Although his spasms hadn’t improved, the sutures were healing well. An overwhelming possibility struck her. Her stay in the Andrews household might no longer be welcomed by the end of the semester.

  Sarah’s nerves did a number on her at the thought of leaving everything she’d grown to appreciate in such a short time. It would be harder than she cared to consider. Greg … would she even dare to imagine beyond the kiss?

  If she had to leave, where would she go? Stay, the little voice told her. After transferring from UCLA to Columbia, she had no reason to move back to Los Angeles. She’d have to come up with a means to earn a living—anything to sustain her until she finished school. She could take out the necessary student loans and hope scholarships were still available this far into the semester in her field of study.

  In more ways than one, she was alone. Even if she had three people who cared for her here, everything she had was temporary. If her father continued to want nothing to do with her, she’d have to carve out a name for herself, one way or another. But of course, things were almost always easier said than done.

  A nagging doubt strangled her. She couldn’t leave until she knew for sure that Greg wouldn’t do anything stupid in connection with that phone conversation she’d overheard. A big part of her refused to let him make that mistake.

  Shaking away the sudden wave of paranoia, Sarah willed her mind to concentrate on the work lying before her, and she finished studying the material she’d intended to cover for the day. After the end of her study period, she returned the books to their proper shelves and set out to take the longer path back to the penthouse, hoping to snag a few employment applications along the way.