his arm around my hip and guides us to the bar for a drink, where we mingle with local friends and business associates while we wait for our table.
Everyone knows James. He walks into a room, and someone always comes up to greet him, wanting to chat and to be seen with him. Top of his class at Harvard, we returned to his hometown a year ago for him to become the youngest district attorney in the city. James is clever, charismatic, and ambitious. And the women…he could have any woman he wants. Just like the female bartender who’s turned her attention to him, giving him a flirtatious smile.
I witnessed firsthand in college how the coeds admired him when I was taking photos of the Harvard campus. The girls flocked to him, even knowing I was his girlfriend. I remember the first time I laid eyes on him behind the lens of my Nikon D50 on that sweltering summer day. He was running through campus shirtless with only a pair of black athletic shorts covering his body. He was gorgeous.
I couldn’t help but take snapshots of him as he stretched and sipped his water, sweat glistening on his lean, muscular body. It was like a Sports Illustrated photo shoot. I was so caught up in his godliness I didn’t notice him checking me out as well in my flimsy cotton sundress that was blowing in the wind and exposing me to the world. He rescued me from embarrassment. His hand rested upon the small of my back, pulling down my white dress to cover my ass. I didn’t flinch at his touch. Instead, I toppled into it.
“This is a view to remember, but I’d rather not share it with the world.” He chuckled as his blue eyes sparkled and danced over me, blessing me with his charming smile that was slightly crooked and his deep dimple. I was putty in his hands. From that day forward, we were inseparable. I still have those pictures. We met on June twelfth, and on the same day six years later, we were married.
“Babe.”
Pulled away from my thoughts, I turn to my husband’s curious look as he hands me a vodka and cranberry.
“Are you all right?” he asks, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
I take a deep breath, exhale, and smile at him before taking the drink from his hand.
“Yes.” I sip my drink as I peer across the crowded restaurant toward the front door, watching as couples walk inside.
I’m immediately drawn to the tall, familiar silhouette standing behind the hostess’ booth, staring across the dimly lit dining area. There he is, but with no tool belt, no T-shirt or jeans, but a nice pair of gray slacks and a black button-down shirt with a beautiful raven haired woman on his arm who is dressed in a strapless red dress. I float my eyes to his and notice he’s watching me. He doesn’t remove his lock on me. He merely smiles before the hostess diverts his attention away from me. I swallow and gaze up at James who happens to be looking in the same direction. He swiftly downs his drink and turns to the bar and quickly orders another.
He must have had a rough week. Working long hours at the office has happened more often than not lately. The photo studio has been very busy the past couple of months for me as well with engagements, graduations, and newborn photo shoots, so this evening out is long overdue.
“Well, we have to stop meeting like this, James.” I glance away from James to follow the smooth voice, knowing full well who owns it. I hold in my breath. Why? I don’t know. Nothing happened that afternoon in my house, only the corrupt thoughts in my head, and when my eyes connect with Mason’s, I sense that possibly he felt the same way.
Is that guilt, too?
The memory of our first encounter quivers in my belly.
“How are things?” James replies firmly as he sips his drink. He brings his gaze to Mason, and a look passes between them that I can’t quite describe. Could that be animosity? A challenge?
“Couldn’t be better.”
Mason flashes a smile when he looks over at me.
“Brie, so nice to see you again.”
He
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