Unfinished Business. Inglath Cooper

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      At least in leaving before he woke up, she’d saved them both the embarrassment of admitting what they already knew.

      It should never have happened.

      It would never happen again.

      HER NUMBER IN D.C. was unlisted.

      Culley had tried Washington information no less than five times, hoping to get a different operator with a different answer.

      After leaving Addy’s room, he’d gone back to his own hotel, showered and packed, then written a note for his buddies, telling them something had come up, and he had to get home. Coward’s way out maybe, but he didn’t want to hang around for their question-and-answer session about last night. He knew them. They would be merciless.

      At the airport, he pulled out his cell phone and got the number for Addy’s firm in D.C. on the off chance that she was already back and had gone there. A receptionist sent him to her voice mail. He left a short message, started to add more, but hung up at the last second. He had no idea what to say.

      ADDY WENT STRAIGHT to the office, intent on burying herself under a pile of work.

      Of course Ellen was there. Addy walked by her office with a neutral good-morning, heading for her own office two doors down.

      “Whoa,” Ellen called out.

      “Later,” Addy called back. She dropped her coat and laptop bag on the leather couch by her door, crossed the floor and collapsed into the chair behind her desk.

      Ellen appeared in the doorway, leaned a shoulder against the frame, arms crossed. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her face devoid of makeup. She was dressed in workout clothes and Nike running shoes. “Up for a run?”

      During the week, the two of them ran together at lunch. Addy shook her head, pressed a finger to the dull thud in her temple. “Not today.”

      Ellen raised an eyebrow. “So how’d the little black dress turn out?”

      “Should have left it on the hanger.”

      Ellen came in and sat down in the chair across from Addy, looking like a psychiatrist about to get a juicy morsel. “Do tell.”

      “Nothing to tell.”

      “I can wait.”

      “Ellen, really.”

      “You left the book in the room?”

      Addy sighed. “No. But I did run into an old friend from high school.”

      “And?”

      “We sat in the Oak Bar and talked.”

      “And?”

      Addy tipped her head to one side.

      Ellen’s eyes went wide. “You slept with him!”

      Addy covered her face with her hands. “That sounds so—”

      “Delicious!”

      “Ellen!”

      “Well, was it?”

      “Ellen. I can’t believe I did that. It’s so not me.”

      “It’s so exactly what you need. All these months since you and Mark split, and you haven’t even been out on a date. Not normal.”

      “Oh, Ellen,” Addy said, making a face, “We grew up in the same hometown. His mom and my mom go to the movies together every Tuesday night. He must think I’m—”

      “Human?”

      “Easy!”

      Ellen laughed. “Now there’s one for the fifties dictionary.”

      “It’s not funny.”

      “Addy, my God, you’re entitled. Did you practice safe—”

      Addy held up a hand. “Too personal.”

      Ellen chuckled again. “You were born in the wrong era, Hester.”

      Addy dropped her head back, stared at the ceiling. “Why did I have to pick him? Why couldn’t it have been someone I’d never see again?”

      “Because you wouldn’t have slept with someone like that. If you picked this old friend, there must have been a reason.”

      “Temporary loss of faculties?”

      Ellen folded her arms, gave her a long look. “Would you give yourself just a bit of a break?”

      “Last night…that’s not something I would normally ever—”

      Ellen held up a hand. “The conscience police are not in the room. Give yourself a little credit, Addy,” she said, her voice softening. “You’ve had a tough go of it. If last night got you away from that for a while, then what’s so wrong with that?”

      “Plenty, I’m sure.”

      Ellen got up, went over to the drawer where Addy kept an extra change of running clothes and shoes. She pulled them out, set them on the desk. “Get dressed. We’re going for a run. Burn off some of that guilt you’re soaking in.”

      “I don’t think that’s going to fix it.”

      “Yeah, but I’m gonna kick your butt on pace this morning. So at least it’ll give you something else to think about.”

      Addy picked up the clothes, headed out the door to the women’s bathroom. “Gee, thanks.”

      Ellen smiled. “What are friends for?”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      WHEN ADDY GOT HOME Saturday afternoon, there were four messages on the machine from Culley—the first one said he’d gotten her number from her mother.

      On Sunday, he left three.

      Monday, two.

      Tuesday, one.

      On Wednesday, his number was on caller ID. No message.

      Thursday, nothing.

      Addy felt horrible for ignoring them. But what would they say to each other? There was nothing to say. The last thing she wanted was to hear her own regret duplicated in his voice. Better to let it fade. Chalk it up to what it was. A slice of time when their paths had crossed, and they had offered each other temporary comfort. And what else could it be? Spending the night with Culley had not fixed the broken part of her, the part that had once believed in her own ability to choose wisely. That confidence had been shaken to the point that standing in one place felt like the only safe choice. To put a foot in either direction might mean setting off another explosion like the one created by her unfaithful husband. An explosion that СКАЧАТЬ