by Lisa Lace
“For all I know, you could have been having an affair,” she says quietly.
I wonder if I heard her correctly. “A what?”
She looks at me directly. “An affair.”
I laugh. “Are you serious?” I see her frowning, and I laugh harder. I force myself to stop and pause to catch my breath before continuing. “I’m a lot more boring than you make me out to be.”
“Well, there’s a lot I don’t know about you,” Laura mutters.
“That’s easily fixed,” I say, patting the bed. “We can learn a little bit more about each other, and I think it will improve our communication a lot.”
Laura looks hesitant. “What do you mean?’
“I mean, I’ll share some stuff about myself, and you do the same. Or we can ask each other what we want to know, that might be easier. Whatever works.” I watch some of her defenses fall as she perches on the edge of the bed.
“Okay,” she says slowly. “That might work.”
The questions start off innocently enough. We ask about basic things like favorite colors, movies, books, and music. We slowly stretch out across the bed as we talk, and I’m surprised at how alert I am. We discuss different life philosophies, and I’m impressed with how aligned we are with our approach to life. When it’s her turn to ask a question, she takes a deep breath.
“Uh oh,” I tease. “This sounds like a doozy.” She’s lying down, and my arm is draped around her waist.
“Um, well, it’s just a different kind of question,” she says. She won’t make eye contact with me so I sit up on my elbow and force her to look at me.
“What is it?”
“What’s your favorite position?” Laura asks, blushing.
“In baseball?” I tease her with a serious face.
“No, in bed,” she clarifies, turning redder.
“First of all, why are you embarrassed? We’re past that, aren’t we?” I asked.
“It’s one thing to be in the moment, but it’s another to be discussing it like we’re talking about our favorite works of art,” she says defensively.
“Point made.” I chuckle. “I like any position that allows me complete access to the goods,” I say, tweaking her nipple. “And that basically means any position, if you’re wondering. Which reminds me, there are a lot we haven’t even tried yet.” She doesn’t say anything for a minute and busies herself with examining the nails of the hand I have wrapped around her.
“Does that answer your question, or are you looking for something more specific?” I ask.
“We can try a new one now,” she says quietly. It doesn’t take much for my body to respond to her words.
“Can you?” I ask.
“Yes, it’s done,” she says. Biting her lip, she slowly rolls me onto my back and straddles me. “I want to be in complete control,” she says.
Her words sound erotic and dangerous at the same time. “You got it,” I agree. “You’re the boss.”
Laura
Our second week in Milan is wrapped up, and we are in London. The atmosphere isn’t as cozy as it was in Milan, but there is still plenty to do and things to see. Maxwell has been able to be a bit more flexible with his schedule, and we are scheduled to see several abandoned palaces and castles in and around London, as well as the main attractions.
I pack a cold lunch to take with us so we can have a picnic while we’re at a larger palace today. It’s a few hours away from London, but the reviews I have read said that it’s well worth the trip.
Bella skips into the room and holds up our hats. “Can we wear our hats?”
It is a windy day, but I can’t think of a better time to pull them out. “Yes, let’s do that.” I smile.
She jams a hat onto her head. “You can wear this one; it matches with your dress,” she says approvingly.
“Right you are, Madame,” I tell her in my faux British accent.
Bella laughs and covers her mouth. “You sound just like everyone over here,” she observes between spurts of laughter.
“Well, that’s where the accent comes from,” I tell her. “This is Britain, home of the British accent.” I wave my arms grandly, and Bella dissolves in giggles.
“Whatever do we have here,” Max says, coming into the room. I laugh at his attempt at the accent.
“That’s butchered,” I complain. “You don’t sound British. You just sound like a spoiled New Englander.”
“It’s the best I can do,” Max says in mock frustration.
Bella laughs harder. “Daddy, just talk normal. We don’t know what you’re saying.”
Max pounces on her and proceeds to tickle her until she begs for mercy. “Tell me it’s good,” he demands.
“It’s good, it’s good,” she pants.
As soon as she’s up, she darts to a corner before insulting it again so he’ll chase her. I smile to myself. It’s going to be a wonderful afternoon.
Hours later, we’ve consumed most of the food from the picnic. I’d assumed we would pick something up along the way. But Bella expressed her desire to have a proper high tea, and I did my best to deliver. I prepared a substantial lunch complete with a fennel salad, sausage rolls, tarts, scones, jams, and tea. I don’t think Max cares for tea, but I know he had a difficult time resisting Bella’s hand-poured cups just for him. Bella was especially pleased to have been dressed the part and got up to twirl in her appreciation until she was breathless.
We have our tour guide take us along the scenic route of the grounds. Bella has lost some of her energy, but she is still marching along with us like a trooper. Well, more like the Queen’s guard I think in amusement.
When we had the tour of the castle itself earlier, it was with a larger group, and we didn’t have time to look at all the little parts that caught our interest. Now we have it mostly to ourselves. The crowd has dissipated since we were the last tour group for the day.
“We close in an hour, but you folks are welcome to take your time. You’ll find us in there if you need anything,” a ruddy-faced woman says with a wink at Bella.
“You got a lovely daughter there,” she admires. “Looks just like the two of ye.”
Bella giggles and runs to me. “She’s talking like you,” she says in a loud whisper.
I look back to see if the older lady heard, but she’s too far away now.
“Welcome to the world of children embarrassing you,” Max whispers in my ear as he passes by. “Get used to it. That was nothing.”
I laugh. “She already did that the other day when she saw a feminine product in my purse. She asked if she could have a lollipop.”
Max groans and shakes his head. “The good, the bad, and the ugly of parenting—this is the ugly.”
“I disagree, it’s definitely one of my favorite things,” I say. We continue to argue about the best aspects until I realize Bella’s no longer next to me.
“She must be around here somewhere,” Max says firmly. “Bella!” His voice rings out and echoes among the large gray bricks.
“Daddy?” Her voice could be coming from anywhere, but on a hunch, I move out toward the way we came into the castle. I crane my neck up and see her small figure standing in the window. She’s climbed up to one of the lower floors, but I’m still alarmed that she has moved so quickly, and it only took a moment’s distraction.
Max doesn’t seem alarmed at all. “Bella, come on down. You need to ask before you start going places.”
“Daddy,” Bella calls, undeterred. “Do you remember that princess book you read to me last night?”
While she’s busy talking, I climb up after her, taking the lopsided stairs two at a time with my heart in my throat. I feel responsible for Bella, but more than that, I would blame myself if something ever happened to her. At her age, she is incredibly unpredictable and can do things purely for attention. I can’t take that chance. I breathe easier once I’m in the room with her and have my arm around her while she’s living out her princess fantasy.
Bel
la is happily chattering away, unaware of the minor heart attack I had as a result of her adventure. “Laura!” She squeezes my arm. She looks down at Max. “Daddy, maybe Laura can lower her hair down so you can climb up!”
I chuckle. “I don’t think my hair is that long—or that strong. Sorry to burst your bubble, kiddo.”
“I can always take the stairs,” Max offers. “I don’t want to hurt Laura’s head. I’m kind of heavy.”
“Okay, but you have to rescue your princess,” Bella insists. “Come on, Daddy!”
Max looks reluctant, and I don’t blame him. It’s been a long day, and quite frankly, I’m too tired to play along with her game.
“I think Daddy’s tired, Bella,” I tell her. “Maybe when we go to another one before we leave we can play that game.
Bella has other ideas. “Please! Look, Daddy’s already coming up.”
Sure enough, I see Max appear in the doorway. “Which princess am I getting,” he jokes.
“Dad-dy! You only get one!” She stabs a finger in my direction. The mock play is taking on a life of its own now.
“You have to get down on one knee and ask her to marry you. And you have to tell her how much you love her.” Bella twirls on one foot and holds her dress out to emphasize her words.
“I do, yes.” Max follows her instructions, and I avoid his gaze the entire time. I try to think about anything else, but hearing him say the words that we agreed not to say or have anything to do with, makes me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.
Bella goes as far as ordering her father to carry me out of the castle, with her leading the way. Max scoops me up obediently, and soon I’m nestled against his chest, the tiny tyke in front of us directing our next move. The move back to our ride is excruciatingly slow, as Bella remembers different parts of different princess stories that she wants us to reenact for her.
I distract her with a promise of ice cream and an extra princess story once we get back to the hotel, and she agrees to leave. Max’s relief is palatable, and we drive back in silence while Bella sleeps.
Much later, I tuck Bella into bed after having fulfilled my promises to her. When I’m sure she’s asleep, I leave her room and find Max reading his emails, already in bed. We haven’t had time to discuss what happened at the castle, and I wonder if we will. I don’t think I’m prepared to have that conversation. It felt surreal, and I don’t like the feelings that came when we were acting it out.
When I spoke to Riley last week, she had warned me that something like this would happen. I know she’ll gloat once I tell her, but I need her sound advice. I know she’ll have a way of explaining how I’m feeling in a way that I can’t articulate.
“She’s asleep?” Max asks without looking up.
“Yes,” I reply. Then on a whim, I ask, “What happened between you and your ex-wife?”
Max’s head snaps up. “Oh. Her? Well, long story short, I wanted a family more than I wanted her. I didn’t think things through, despite the warning signs around me. We got married, she got pregnant, she wanted to use it as an opportunity to cash in. She agreed to carry the baby to full-term, and once she delivered, she got her money, signed over all parental rights and left.” He returns to his laptop, and I stay quiet.
I’m disgusted by how this woman so callously forked over her child for money, but I wonder how much I mirror her. Is that how Max sees me? What I’m doing is hardly any different, after all.
Maxwell
I sift through the bouquets of flowers until I find a blooming, fragrant bunch of white lilies. I can’t be sure that Laura will like them, but I did see them as her laptop background photo, so I hope for the best and pay the vendor for them.
I hurry back to the hotel, hoping to make it there before Laura so I can surprise her. Bella is enjoying a playdate with a colleague’s daughter, with a nanny watching both at the hotel pool. Bella has adjusted surprisingly well to the changes and varied schedules that Laura and I have kept. I think it’s because Laura knows how to make each new place like home for Bella, with all the things that bring her comfort—her blanket, favorite toys, books, and foods. In fact, Laura knows how to do that for me too, although my comforts are far simpler. Everything has fallen in sync. As hard as it is to achieve any sense of normalcy on my own while traveling, we’ve managed to do it together.
Leaping over a puddle, I start whistling as I near the hotel. It’s raining, as it has been every day since we arrived in London, with no sign of letting up. It does nothing to dampen my mood, though. Everything is going so well, I want to go out and celebrate.
I also want to propose that we change the terms of the marriage and make things more permanent. While I expected that things would go well, I hadn’t anticipated that I would feel so good and so right. I know Bella feels the same, and I want to see if Laura is happy to keep things the way they are.
Once I’m inside, I call the nanny to check on Bella, and hang up, satisfied. The two girls are apparently splashing their way into an early bedtime, which is fine by me. I don’t have to wait long for Laura.
“I can’t believe it’s still raining!” She strips off her coat and hangs it up in the closet by the door. There are still droplets of rainwater clinging to her face, and I walk over to brush them off before pulling her into an embrace. Her lips search for mine, and we stay locked like that for a good minute before she pulls away.
“Where’s Bella?” Laura asks in a husky voice, tugging at my shirt.
“Still swimming.” I smile, pulling her toward the loveseat in the lounge area in the suite. “I have something else in mind. We’ll get to that later.”
I see her frown and smile to myself. I wait until she’s settled. “Are you happy?”
She looks puzzled. “Happy? With what?” She brightens. “About the meeting? Yes. It went really well. I’m really excited that everything is falling into place.”
“Meeting?” I repeat.
“Yes, they invited me to a group dinner tonight, and I’ll have a chance to meet Simone French. I should be getting ready, actually. There’s so much to do.” She starts to stand, but I tug her hand, and she sits back down.
“What’s wrong?” She looks confused.
“I mean this. Us. Are you happy with this arrangement?” I prod.
“I’m—yes. I mean, aren’t you?” Laura asks.
“I’m happy, definitely,” I assure her. “Which is why I want to know if you want to make this situation more permanent?”
“Permanent, how?”
“Permanent, as in, as long as we’re both content with the arrangement...for the foreseeable future,” I reply. I’m not sure myself how long permanent means. I can hear Walter’s warnings sound off in my head, and I block them out.
Laura looks down at her lap and doesn’t say anything for a moment. “So, extend it beyond our agreed term, you mean? And what does ‘foreseeable future’ mean to you?” She looks up, her expression masked.
“I mean permanent-permanent. For as long as it’s still working for both of us,” I tell her.
Laura gets up and paces in front of me. She folds her arms across her chest and bites her lips. Her usual thinking pose, I observe. At least she’s considering it.
“Listen, I’m glad you got this invitation, but I can land you a one-on-one with Simone French. I want you to join me instead tonight. I made reservations at a restaurant I think you’ll enjoy. It will give us some time to connect about some of these goals and discuss what changes we can make to this arrangement that will suit each of us if we decide on extending it.”
“Look,” Laura says, squaring her shoulders. “About meeting Ms. French, I appreciate that you want to help me advance in this area. And even though I may not have the connections you do, I struggled to get my foot in the door, and I think I did pretty good on my own. And as for the contract, I don’t know if the ‘foreseeable future’ is good enough for me. I like that the agreement has a timestamp on it because it makes things less confusing.”
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br /> I’m taken aback by her comments. “I know, Laura,” I say quietly. “I thought I could help you. There’s nothing wrong with accepting help sometimes.” I watch her withdraw further into herself. “I didn’t want to make things confusing for you. I just think since things are going well that it makes sense to explore that possibility.”
“We’re talking about two different things here, and I can’t concentrate on both. All I know is that I need to know that the connections I make are due to my own work and merit, not because of their loyalties toward you,” Laura says stubbornly. Her hand is on her hip, and she has a glint in her eye.
“That’s all you’ve done,” I insist. “You made a name for yourself long before you met me. I’m only trying to help.”
“I know.” Laura lets out a deep breath. I think she’s been holding that in for a long time. “I feel like I don’t have any control over anything anymore. This is the one area where I can dictate where I go from here. So extending this is not high on my list at the moment.” She looks torn, and I don’t want to push it any further.
“You agreed to this contract,” I point out. I feel irritated, but I can’t figure out why. “I know you want to make a name for yourself, but there’s nothing wrong with using my name in the process—you are married to me, after all.”
“I know. It just feels a little strange, that’s all.” Laura shrugs and looks uncomfortable.
“Strange, how?” I pry.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m like your ex-wife. I know you said you just had to name your price and she did whatever you wanted, but…” Laura breaks off and paces away to look out the window.
“You’re nothing like her,” I insist. “You look after Bella in a way that she never could have done. That she still couldn’t do.” I pause. “And anyway, I think you’re overthinking it. We’re both benefiting from this situation, so there’s no need to feel guilty about gaining anything from it.”
“I need to make sure I’m working toward a steady income even after this,” she gestures between us, “is over.” She is leaning against the window pane, her hands clutching the frame on either side of her.
