taking a bite. It wasn’t hunger prompting her to reach for it, and it wouldn’t do anything to ease the ache in her chest or the cold, hard knot of fear that coiled in her belly. Pulling out her cell phone, Grace called Celia, her best friend.
“Can you come over?”
“I thought this was your big mystery weekend?” Celia asked.
“It didn’t go as planned.”
“I’ll bring chocolate,” Celia said.
Ten minutes later Grace was opening the door to Celia who held a bottle of wine in one hand and take out box of cheesecake in the other. “I love you,” she said.
“Girl, it’s time you fess up. I want to know what has been going on with you and this man. Is he married?”
Grace took the wine to the kitchen and opened it, pouring it liberally into two large glasses. “No, Celia, he isn’t married. It’s worse,” Grace said, meeting Celia’s dubious stare as she handed her the wine. “It’s Anthony Callahan. I’ve been having an affair with our boss.”
Celia made a high pitched noise somewhere between a squeal and communicating with sea life. “You have so got to spill, baby girl! Please tell me that man looks as fine out of his suits as he does in them!”
“Better actually… But I just don’t think this is working, Celia. It’s gotten so complicated.”
Celia took Grace’s hands in hers. “This isn’t just a sex thing with him, is it? No friends with benefits. It’s the real deal for you. But what is it for him?”
Grace felt the tears welling up, “He says that he loves me. That he wants the world to know we’re together… but what will people say? I know what I look like, Celia, and I’m fine with it. But that doesn’t mean I want to put myself out there for the entire world to pick me apart.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s what this is all about? You have a man—worth billions, well respected in the business world, most sought after bachelor in the state, fine as hell, too— he says that he loves you and wants to be with you and you think what someone else says matters more than that?”
In that light, Grace knew that Celia was making a very good point. “Someone knows about us, Celia. They’ve been watching us and they have some very…well, intimate photos, for lack of a better word. They haven’t made any demands yet, but they’re coming, I’m sure.”
“Girl, I’d be making a sex tape worthy of a Kardashian if I was you. Gracie, I love you, but you have been alone for a long time…and even when you’ve had people in your life, they’ve never loved you just for you. Do you believe that he does?”
“Yes. When it’s just us, Celia, it’s perfect.”
“Then go get his ass…you leave the wine and cheesecake here with me, and you go climb that man!”
“He was so upset when he left here, Celia. I don’t know how to make it right.”
“I’d advise nudity. Not a one of them can remember what pissed them off when they’re looking at your tits… You have a trench coat, right?”
“Yes.”
“Strip. Put on that coat, and the highest heels you on and go get him.”
Could she do that, Grace wondered? Could she really leave her house wearing nothing but a coat and a pair of high heels? Yes, she decided. Thinking of Anthony’s face when he saw her that way was all the incentive she needed. Dashing to her bedroom, Grace repaired her makeup and then removed every last stitch she had on. The black trench coat barely came to her knees, and it gaped alarmingly over her thighs. But with the belt cinched tightly, it would provide enough coverage to keep her out of jail. She slid her feet into the nude heels she’d worn the night before when Anthony had taken her to dinner, and as an afterthought, added the pearls.
Celia held the door for her as she left. Outside, she hailed a taxi and climbed in carefully, trying her best to flash her neighbors.
RICHARD
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