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“Wall Street.” I picture her spending time with him, laughing with him. Letting him kiss her the way I did the other night. “It’s not a good idea to see other people while we'redating.”
“Fakedating."
“Semantics.” I toss the key on the table and stand, going to the minibar for a bottle of scotch and a crystal glass. “It’s complicated enough convincing everyone we'retogether."
“I haven’t heard any questioning sinceWednesday.”
“Because we made out like porn stars in the middle of a crowded club,” Isay.
It was one kiss. One that burned hot enough, and went on long enough, to convince the entire world we wanted eachother.
But that's theplan.
“It was a successful first appearance,” I say. “But there are more. If your friends at work saw you with someone else, it'd make things harder toexplain."
"So I'm not supposed to see anyone for amonth?"
Irritation claws at my throat as I pour my drink. "I can count on one hand the number of guys you’ve dated since I’ve knownyou.”
“Well, maybe that’s about tochange.”
I exhale, exasperated and unsure of where the stubbornness is coming from. “It's not a hardship. Whatever you need, you can get fromme."
“You’re in for companionship, genuine affection, andsex?”
I lift the glass to my lips. The liquid burns a hot trail down my throat. “Isuppose—”
“It was a joke, Ben.” But her voice is sharp and the tightness in my chest doesn’tease.
"It's not like Marc is the guy you're destined to spend your life with." She doesn't answer, which makes me laugh. "You're not serious? There's no way he'll give you what youneed."
"You don't know him. Maybe hewill."
My abs clench. “Xavier’s hosting a dinner at his townhouse on Wednesday. Small. Partners and their wives and girlfriends. He emailed about it today.” It’s the perfect chance to show how centered I am, how strong Daisy and Iare.
“We can talk about it when you’re back. In the meantime, you sound as if you need to sleep. Don’t wait up for me. We’ll play nextweek.”
I want to argue with her. “Don’t stay in the office toolate.”
She’s alreadygone.
I slide the key off the coffee table, drop it into the trash. And I’m left feeling more alone than before and it has nothing to do with being an ocean fromhome.
* * *
Sunday morning,I'm back in New York. Daisy and I need to get some things straightened out, which is why I'm at her door with donuts. Our arguments over the years have been few and far between, but I can’t find one that hasn’t been resolved by the crullers from this littleshop.
Our phone call Friday night left me seriously questioning her commitment, and the rest of my time in London and on the flight home, I was distracted byit.
“Just a sec!” comes a voice, but then there’snothing.
I use my key to open the door. I go through the apartment to find Lily standing on her bed, trying to change an overhead light in the center of theroom.
“Daisy’s not here. She went forbreakfast.”
"With?”
Lily teeters precariously on the edge of the mattress, one foot pointed out into space as she gets a hand on the light fixture. “She didn’tsay.”
