Holly quickly scanned the note and patted Melina’s arm. “Hey, sorry, I wasn’t trying to be a pain. Maybe Joshua will be the one, right? He’ll count for a real boyfriend.”
Melina pushed the flowers away, suddenly sickened by their fragrance. “Richard counts,” she whispered.
“Richard who?” Holly’s eyebrows knit with the question. “I’ve known you since the day you moved to Seattle, Melina, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t dated a Richard.”
“Not in Seattle, Holly. Before. When I lived in Indiana. His name was Richard Wister. I never told you about him.” Melina dropped her head and massaged the back of her neck.
“No, that name sounds familiar. Maybe you did tell me? But I don’t remember what you said about him.”
Melina shivered and pulled her suit jacket tighter around her. “I am absolutely positive I’ve never told you about him before. I’ve never told anybody, and you can’t, either.”
“Hold that thought,” Holly said. “I’ll get rid of these flowers in the break room.” She grabbed the vase with one hand and Melina’s empty coffee mug with the other, and returned in a few minutes bearing two steaming mugs of coffee.
Holly pushed Melina’s office door closed and settled in the chair opposite her desk. “OK, hit me. Richard.”
***
Melina met Richard shortly after she moved from scrappy, local Sutton Advertising on the fringes of downtown Indianapolis to Pursuit Marketing’s showy office space in a new downtown skyscraper.
The lobby’s modern white leather couches faced a wall of award-winning campaigns, elegantly framed with each client’s logo. Melina scanned the wall of fame on her first day, counting seven across, four high. There are twenty-eight frames, twenty-eight ways to show I’m the best, Melina thought. In four years, I’m going to own at least seven of them.
Melina threw herself into her job with that goal in mind, promptly stealing two accounts from Sutton. She resented the fact that Pursuit’s managers insisted that she team with a senior account executive to handle the business.
Richard was likewise resentful that he had to babysit the new account coordinator with her first two clients when she clearly wanted no input from him.
At first, he tried to take the accounts away from Melina, painting her as merely an assistant, but she surprised him by ferociously defending her client relationships. She also became a covert student, learning the language of marketing that Richard used daily with clients.
Richard tried another tactic. As the board of directors reviewed his candidacy to become a partner, Richard pressed Melina to develop new pitches. He intended to take these pitches directly to clients, but Melina doggedly followed up, forcing him to take her along. During the pitch, she guided the presentation to get to the heart of the clients’ concerns and deftly wrapped their strategy around that need.
With these successes, Melina and Richard formed an unspoken truce: she helped him win new business to virtually guarantee his promotion from senior account executive to partner and shareholder at Pursuit Marketing. In exchange, Richard never again tried to cut Melina out of an account, and even lobbied to bring her into increasingly choice assignments.
They often worked through lunch on pitches, both thriving on competition and winning. They worked late on last-minute assignments. They celebrated major wins with after-work drinks. They found more excuses to meet, heads bent over stacks of folders on the conference table.
Melina was intoxicated both by Richard’s lifestyle and the fact that a powerful, handsome man was paying a lot of attention to her. He claimed he was happily married to a woman who had borne him two beautiful children, but Melina could tell he was curious.
Just because you’re on a diet doesn’t mean you can’t look at the menu, she reasoned, watching Richard’s eye drop to the button on her blouse. At this angle, side-by-side at the conference table, it exposed a little more to fuel his imagination.
One night’s after-work drink turned into three, and he offered to drive her home. He pulled up to the curb outside a pristine apartment building and cut the engine. She unbuckled her seatbelt, reached down for her handbag, and then for the door handle.
Richard didn’t look Melina in the eye as he leaned over the leather seat to kiss her cheek. He pulled back a fraction and then twisted his face, crushing his mouth hard on hers, demanding an answer.
Melina felt a rush as she responded, biting his lower lip as her mind recalled every way she imagined this happening. She curled her fingers in his hair, tasting slightly boozy breath, his lips moving fast on hers. His hand crept up her knee, diving a few inches beneath her skirt.
She broke the kiss and they both looked down into the darkness, the air crackling between them.
“I want you,” he said simply.
“I know.” Melina looked him in the eye, a challenge, a possibility of more.
She got out of the car and walked up polished stone steps toward the elegant apartments. She did not look back as she heard him restart the car, the low hum of the engine, the growl as he peeled away from the curb.
Finally, she turned, sure he was gone. His red taillights vanished around the corner and out of sight. Exhaling, Melina stumbled back down the steps and turned at the sidewalk, walking toward her real home in a much shabbier apartment two blocks away.
***
Richard made partner and his team continued its winning streak, with Melina leading many of the winning assignments.
Their game continued, Melina teasing and Richard finding reasons to work later, have a drink after work or take Melina home after a client event.
They never discussed their heated exchanges in his car, which Melina would end suddenly, leaving Richard aroused and frustrated.
“I want to come in,” he asked one night, taking the key out of the ignition.
“Isn’t your wife expecting you?” Melina countered. Richard’s eyes tightened, tracing the line of her throat down to the lace exposed at her open collar.
“I could come in tonight,” he pressed. “There’s time.”
“I have roommates,” Melina reminded him. The two flight attendants who shared Melina’s apartment were frequently away on trips, but they were Melina’s excuse to say no.
“Then somewhere else,” he said, urgently, putting the key back into the ignition. “A hotel.”
Melina hesitated. Was this how it would be? A relationship in anonymous rooms? She wondered how little he thought of her, how much he cared.
Richard sensed her moment of indecision. “A suite, not something cheap. We’ll order champagne. We’ll stay up late—I can make it work.”
You can make up a good excuse.
Melina sat back in the rich leather of Richard’s luxury car, absorbing the life that she intended to lead, and not just for a night.
“Drive.”
***
It wasn’t Melina’s first relationship, but it was her first affair.
Melina carefully avoided any suggestion of extracurricular activities with Richard at work, frequently inviting other staff members into meetings that could be handled by the two of them.
She wanted to ensure no one could accuse her of sleeping her way to the top, earning the favor of one of Pursuit’s partners by offering more than professional contributions.
Melina earned increasingly high-profile assignments and that allowed her to flex her own creative muscles, rather than simply execute someone else’s ideas. These also required her to work late, and she and Richard took advantage of the opportunities.
Melina liked Richard, she liked the sex, and she liked his occasional gifts of perfume or designer handbags. Richard was giving her a taste of the lifestyle to which she wanted to become accustomed.
As Valentine’s Day approached, he clumsily explained that he wouldn’t be able to see her that night.
Melina felt envy twist in her gut. Of course not. There were so many things she was missing. Valentine’s Day was neither the first nor last.<
br />
They couldn’t go to the best restaurants unless it was with a client, for fear of being spotted together in a way that could only be construed as romantic. But Melina knew Richard would take his wife out for Valentine’s Day, her jewelry glistening under the flattering lights of a restaurant where reservations were impossible.
“What can I do to make it up to you?” Richard asked Melina, passion and insecurity clouding his face.
Melina deliberately removed her earrings, crystal solitaires set in silver. She slid them across Richard’s desk.
“How about the real thing?”
***
Two months later, Richard called Melina into his office. She felt her cheeks heat, recalling their romp from the night before, and wondered if this night might take them to another hotel tryst.
But Richard’s eyes were hard as he slid a creased sheet of paper across his desk to her. A hotel logo adorned its edge.
Last night was hot. M.
“You did this,” he accused. “I found it in my jacket pocket after I got home.”
Melina raised one brow and offered a saucy smile. “So did you. Several times. And it was hot.”
“The note, Melina. You put it in my pocket—when? When I was in the shower? What did you think would happen? Do you want us to get caught?”
Melina recoiled as if she had been slapped. She wrote the note to fuel her lover’s fantasies. Part of the thrill of their affair was its unpredictable nature, the delicious anticipation of next time.
But another part of her wondered if exposing the affair might bring it out of the shadows, where Melina could be publicly attached to a man as successful as she intended to be.
“Look, I get what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to happen,” he exhaled hard and ran his hands through dark hair speckled with gray. “I might not love my wife, but I love my daughters and won’t leave them.”
“Don’t you think you deserve more than that?” Melina countered, feeling him shut down. “Shouldn’t you be happy? Shouldn’t we both be happy?”
“I’m sorry, but this is the best I can give you,” Richard rubbed tired eyes, as if explaining his thoughts would validate them. “We keep it private, or we end it. Take it or leave it.”
Richard’s mouth was set in a grim line. The coldness in his tone, as if they had been no more than tennis doubles partners, cut her deeply.
At first, the passion was enough. But as time passed and Melina’s feelings grew, being his convenient girl-on-the-side wasn’t enough. It would never be good enough.
“Then I’ll leave it,” Melina said, commanding ice into her voice to cover the fiery pain in her gut. “And you. It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. It’s not personal, it’s business. Right?”
“In our business, it’s everything,” he said. “We can’t go from being colleagues to dating in public, and throw in a messy divorce. It would be bad for my image—and for yours. I’m looking out for you here, Melina, you’ll see.”
Richard’s patronizing tone repulsed her.
“Fine. If it’s business, then this is how it’s going to be: I’m getting a promotion. You’re going to make it happen. And in exchange, I’ll make sure no one ever knows about our ‘special projects’ that have forced me to put in so many extra hours. Surely that’s worth a raise, too?”
Richard held Melina’s gaze for several seconds, daring her to back down from her ultimatum. She didn’t flinch.
“I’ll have a letter on your desk tomorrow morning.”
***
“So that was it?” Holly was so mesmerized by Melina’s story that she’d forgotten about the cooling coffee in front of her. “Did he give you the promotion? Did you guys end it just like that?”
Melina blinked her eyes rapidly to keep tears at bay; telling the story for the first time brought the hurt back in a wave that threatened to suck her under.
“Oh, we ended it. I never saw him again. I got the letter on my desk like he’d promised. And the raise and promotion. But there was a catch I never saw coming.” Melina took a long sip of coffee to calm her ragged voice. “I had to move to Seattle. Immediately. The transfer was the condition of my promotion.”
“He set you up!”
“You could say that. Covered his own ass is more like it. There is no way we could have kept working together, and getting me moved to Seattle was pretty easy with this office growing so fast.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry. Or maybe I’m not sorry, because if you hadn’t moved here, we wouldn’t have gotten to be friends.” Holly paused, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Was it worth it?”
“To get to be an account manager at twenty-five? Hell, yes. And I love living in Seattle compared to Indiana. And I’m glad we’re friends.” Melina offered Holly a sad smile. “But was the affair worth it? I still don’t know. I think toward the end I really loved him, but I never think he felt that way about me, not really. He loved who I could be for him, but it was never about me.”
“You deserve better,” Holly said loyally, “and you’re going to get it. A guy who isn’t just looking for someone who’s convenient. Someone who will love you, warts and all.”
“Speak for yourself,” Melina laughed. “I have no warts. I’m a great catch.”
“Aaaaaand she’s back!” Holly grinned. “OK, you get your sassy butt into the conference room at ten and show Robbins-Steen what you’ve got cooked up for marketing their new facial care line. I need them to believe we’re a great catch, too.”
TWELVE
The phone rang, jolting Joshua into a hasty search for his mobile. It was never Melina, but Joshua kept hoping.
He wondered if she was keeping her distance or just busy. After their racecar outing, Melina pulled back on their next date, returning to her usual polished conversation and behavior. It frustrated the hell out of him—he wanted to find out what made her tick.
Joshua hopped over stray shoes and papers to locate the phone.
“Josh? I can’t believe I caught you in tonight,” Stephanie’s bubbly voice chirped, the strain of their last conversation forgotten. “I’m calling about this weekend. I’ve got all the materials ordered and all you have to do is swing by the home store with Mark and pick them up. Will Sunday work? I’ve got two clients who need to tour homes Saturday, but first thing Sunday morning would be great.”
“I’ll be there,” Joshua promised. “But the question is, will you make breakfast? You can’t expect us to work on empty stomachs.”
“I already got you covered—homemade blueberry muffins and bacon and fresh pineapple. And a huge pile of hash browns with peppers and onions.”
“Good bribe. See you Sunday.” Joshua put down the phone. He didn’t mind manual labor—he liked building things with his hands and getting dirty. It was the opposite end of the spectrum from the precise and microscopic work he did at the lab.
Joshua turned on the TV in time to catch the weather forecast. It was Tuesday, but it looked like the first sun he’d seen in months might actually stick around through the weekend. He wanted to invite Melina out to do something, but he was unsure if dating her was going anywhere.
He’d almost kissed her—almost—when he thought she’d finally lost the superior attitude she wore like a merit badge. She was windblown, chapped, and glowing from the racetrack victory. To him, she’d never looked better. But he hesitated when she looked at him. She seemed to be sizing him up, and he didn’t like it.
She’s an ice queen. Joshua loaded his dishwasher, remembering how Eric first described her. He should have listened. Now, wrapped up in the mystery of Melina, Joshua wasn’t certain he could just let go of their budding relationship. But he also couldn’t get through to her.
Melina was hardly more open with Joshua than she had been on their first date. Simple questions—her family, where she grew up, her college major—were answered vaguely.
She often steered the conversation toward Joshua. But when he got home from a date and
mulled it over, he realized it probably wasn’t so much her interest in him as it was an aversion to talking about certain parts of herself. She could talk for hours about work, but if he asked something about growing up, she’d immediately shut down.
What was she hiding? Joshua wasn’t sure he was willing to stick around long enough to find out. Crystal had been an open book—he often accused her of TMI, too much information. But Melina seemed always on guard. Still, he couldn’t dismiss the spark he felt, the heat that built in his core each time she was near him.
The phone rang again just as Joshua was sitting down with a stack of bills and his laptop. He grabbed the phone and leaned back into his couch.
“Hello? Josh here.”
“Joshua? Hi. It’s me.”
“Crystal?”
“Yeah, honey. I’m glad I finally caught you. It’s been too long. Things were crazy when you moved out—finals and stuff.”
Before Joshua could reply, Crystal extended her string of excuses. “And now this term’s wrapping up and I’ve got a monster course load and my dad says he’ll kill me if I don’t graduate in June with some major. Any major at this point will make him happy—even women’s studies.”
“Is that your new major?”
“Well, it was going to be, but my advisor told me I wouldn’t have enough credits to graduate until next December, so I’m stuck with either finishing out anthropology or theater. I decided to go with theater.”
“That’s great, Crys. Good for you. The longer you wait, the harder it gets, you know?”
“Spare me the lecture, Mr. Science,” Crystal said, annoyed. “Just because you always knew what you wanted to be when you grew up doesn’t mean everybody else did. College is a time for exploration and finding yourself and your true talents, you know? You should embrace that.”
She’s done more than embraced it, Joshua thought wryly. She’s married it.
He cleared his throat. “So, Crystal, why the call? What do you want?”
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