Read Online Good Intentions by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online Page B

Line one,” her secretary said, her hands buried beneath a neat stack of files. “I’m going to run these reports down the hall.”
    Lynn nodded and picked up the phone, thinking that she hated Fridays. They were always the worst. People seemed to be most desperate just before the weekend, something she had never really understood until Gary left her. Until then, Friday was always a day to look forward to because it meant that—in theory anyway—the family could spend the next two days relaxing and being together. In practice, Gary was more often working than not, the kids were somewhere playing with friends or home fighting with each other, and she was struggling to finish off work which never seemed to meet its deadline. Still, the illusion was there. The possibilities existed. When Gary walked out six months ago, he had taken the possibilities with him. Lynn no longer looked forward to the weekends, which only served to underlinethe unhappy statistic she had become. “Lynn Schuster,” she announced into the phone.
    “Marc Cameron,” came the immediate reply. “And before you hang up on me,” he continued—in fact, the thought had not occurred to her— “I’d like to apologize for my behavior the other night.”
    “Apology accepted,” Lynn replied briskly. “Thank you for calling.”
    “Don’t hang up,” he said again, this time as she was about to.
    Lynn glanced nervously toward her office door. Her secretary was down the hall delivering files. That was good for at least a couple of minutes. “What can I do for you, Mr. Cameron?”
    “For starters, you can call me Marc. Then you can have dinner with me tonight.”
    Lynn took a deep breath, slowly expelling the air in her lungs and inadvertently blowing several sheets of paper off the top of her desk. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea,” she said, watching the papers float toward the beige carpet at her feet.
    “Why not?” His voice was stubborn, provocative.
    “I would think that’s obvious.”
    “Because of what I said?”
    “Because of what you are.”
    “A writer?”
    She laughed. “Suzette’s husband.”
    “Can’t we just forget who we are? Correction,” he said immediately. “Who we
were.”
    Lynn’s fingers moved nervously to the thick gold band on the fourth finger of her left hand. “I think that might prove difficult.”
    “Not if we don’t let it.”
    “I’m busy tonight,” she said, then continued when he said nothing. “My father and his wife are coming over for dinner. Really.”
    “Tomorrow night?”
    “I can’t.”
    “Your father again?”
    “My better judgment. I’m sorry. I just don’t think it would be a very good idea.”
    “So you’ve said.”
    “I’m really sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances …”
    “Sounds like something you say at a funeral.” He laughed. “Hell, I’m a writer. I’m used to rejection. Look, will you do me a favor?”
    “If I can.”
    “Get a piece of paper,” he instructed. Lynn reached for her notebook as her secretary reappeared in the doorway. “Write this down.” He dictated a number and Lynn dutifully copied it, repeating it aloud when he asked her to. “My phone number,” he explained. “I’m renting an apartment until all this is settled. If you change your mind about seeing me again, as I sincerely hope you will, give me a call.”
    “I’ll do that,” Lynn said, motioning for her secretary to come in and sit down. “Thank you for calling.”
    “A pleasure, as always,” he said, and was gone. Lynn replaced the receiver, smiling perhaps a little too hard at the blonde, ponytailed young woman who sat before her.
    “Something wrong?” her secretary asked, bending forward to indicate her willingness to listen. “You look like you’re in pain,” she continued, and Lynn forced hermouth to relax. Her secretary, whose name was Arlene and who was somewhere in her late twenties, lifted a slim file folder from her lap and