It kept whispering and wondering what David’s hands would feel like on her breasts through one of the simple, fitted sheath dresses she favored for work. Her breasts were small but sensitive and the idea of his hands on her… Oh man. Especially if he unzipped the dress, slid his hands inside and under the cups of her bra.
She’d felt his toughened palm against her own when he shook her hand the first day they met, absently noted the calluses he’d mentioned in his first memo. To have those hands touching her, petting her—
Thea bit back a groan.
“Thea.” Her exasperated mother slapped a gardening glove lightly over her thigh. “What did that boy write to you that you’ve spent the past ten minutes staring at the same patch of dirt?”
Going bright red, Thea stuttered to the point that she sent her mother into hysterics. Lily shook her head after she caught her breath. “Tell me about him.” It was a request, not a command.
Thea blew out a breath, the heat yet in her cheeks and said, “His name is David.” Then, as they worked, she told her mother about how she and David had met, how he was part of Schoolboy Choir. “He has this smile. It just… gets me right here.” She thumped a hand over her heart. “Only…”
“I understand, Thea.” Lily’s gaze was intent. “This is important and such things take time to get right.” A kiss pressed to Thea’s forehead. “If he is the right man, he’ll wait; he’ll understand the value of patience.”
Thea thought of how patient David had already been and wondered how much more he had left in him. Would he wait for a woman who needed to have absolute certainty in her lover’s loyalty before she allowed herself to be vulnerable? Or would he decide it was all too difficult?
It was tempting to pull the plug herself, stop the pain before it came, but she was no coward, and David’s honesty deserved her own.
That thought in mind, she opened up her laptop after an early dinner with her family. Her intention was to write to David, but Imani was online, and Thea ended up chatting with her partner and best friend for a half hour—during which Thea admitted to her friend that something was going on with David.
It’s new, she wrote. Just starting. Don’t tell any of the others, okay?
Imani and Thea were part of the jokingly named Hollyweird Book Club. More wine-drinking and talking went on at their meetings than book discussion, but the friendships were rock solid. It wasn’t that Thea didn’t trust the four other women in the group—she just wasn’t ready for questions when she had no answers. Imani, in contrast, had known Thea since college, and was the only person who knew all of what had happened with Eric. She understood what Thea didn’t say.
My lips are sealed, Imani replied now. But I have to say you have great taste. He’s scrumptious. Call me if you need to talk.
Signing off soon afterward, Thea breathed deep and began typing.
An Evaluation of Your Skills
Introduction: In which I discuss your memo-writing skills.
Firstly, for a rock star who doesn’t regularly write memos, you’re doing a stellar job. If I had to grade you, you’d receive an A+. Given your proven ability to master a new skill with such speed, I don’t think you need any pointers from me—oral or written. I have confidence you’d acquit yourself to an A+ standard should the hypothetical scenario in your previous memo ever come to pass.
However, whether it will ever occur remains to be seen—because while I accept your evidence in rebuttal of my Will Taylor photographs, the fact of the matter is that you might find me easier to handle as a fantasy than in reality.
Thea paused, her breathing choppy. It was so hard to write that, to lay her flaws bare, but she’d rather face that pain now, when she could recover from the hurt, than do it later, after David had won her heart. Eric had hurt her, really hurt her, but she was starting to understand that David could destroy her if she let him in and he turned against her.
Getting up, she walked downstairs to the otherwise empty kitchen. Her parents were in the den and her sisters had left for a birthday sleepover. The faint sound of the television show her parents were watching kept her company as she made herself a cup of tea. As she waited for the tea to steep, she thought of Eric, of how it had all begun. He’d been an executive at a business that had contracted with Thea’s company to handle some PR, and Thea had been the contact person.
When he’d asked her out, she’d had no reason to say no. Charming, intelligent, good-looking, Eric had appeared the perfect man. One date had turned into two, and then one day, they were engaged. There had been no fiery chemistry, but there had been what she’d believed was a deep friendship that showed signs of becoming love. That had been okay with her, more than okay. It was how her parents had fallen in love, and theirs was the most solid, most loving marriage she had ever witnessed.