I nodded. "Sounds good to me, but we really should talk first." I unbuttoned his coat, pulling his scarf away from his neck.
"We'll talk after we fuck," he said. "I have it all planned out."
"You do? I said, smiling despite my anxiety. "I have nothing else to do and so I'm all yours."
"All mine?" he said, humor in his voice.
"At your disposal," I added, getting into the spirit. "At your command." I grinned up at him, glad he seemed so happy, not wanting to spoil it with my confession about Kurt. "I seem to recall a promise about harem girls and massages…"
"Oh, that's right…" He grinned evilly. "I do remember something about you being my slave girl and giving me a really sensuous massage, but maybe we should wait until after the nap." He kissed me softly and it was then I decided to delay telling Drake until after the nap – and massage. He was tired, as he had every right to be, considering the donation and medication and his recent sickness. He didn't need any drama right then so I happily pushed telling him about Kurt into the back of my mind. Later, before dinner, I'd pour him a drink and tell him.
I told myself that the incident was so trivial and unimportant that he shouldn't be concerned about it.
We took off our good clothes and crept into bed, Drake in his boxer briefs and me in my little lace nightie. I snuggled into his arms as he lay on his side, my back to him – the usual position we took when we went to sleep at night, although he was usually naked. I sighed when he kissed my shoulder and I closed my eyes, glad to have a nap after all the stress of the morning. I planned my approach to telling Drake. I'd wait until after we had sex, and then, when we got out of bed and were getting ready for a very late supper, I'd pour him some wine and after he had a glass, I'd straight out confess.
I'd deal with whatever fallout came because I chose not to tell him sooner, but I was happy to delay telling him about Kurt. Just as I started drifting in a nice warm, slightly aroused state, Drake's cell chimed. He had a text.
"Crap," he said and struggled up, reaching past me to the night table where his cell lay.
"Ignore it, Drake," I said, yawning.
"Can't," he said. "That's someone from the foundation calling."
Drake took his phone and read the text, then, he slipped out of bed on the other side.
"I'll be right back," he said and left the bedroom.
I lay in the semi-darkness of the bedroom and listened to Drake. His voice was low, his words indecipherable from the office down the hall. I wondered what the discussion was about but couldn't tell. After a few moments of silence, when Drake didn't return to bed, I got up and tiptoed out of the bedroom only to find Drake sitting on the couch, his arms spread out over the back in that familiar position. He didn’t look at me when I entered, the phone in his hand, tossing it up and down lightly as if lost in thought.
"Drake?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I stepped closer to the couch and saw that the Weekly was open on the couch beside him.
A shock went through my body, my blood feeling like ice.
"Drake," I said, my voice faltering. "I—"
"Don't," he said, holding up his hand palm out to stop me. "Don't say anything."
"But I need to explain—"
"Not now," he said, his voice filled with emotion.
"Please Drake," I said, panic overtaking me, making my knees weak. "I was going to tell you…" I went to the couch and started to sit down, wanting to connect with him, let him know that the picture meant nothing.
"Stop," he said, glaring at me. "Leave me alone. I need some time to think."
"Why?" I said, my heart racing. "There's nothing to think about. I ran into Kurt at the fundraiser, he followed me out of the building and some photographer took that picture when I was telling him to leave me alone. That's it," I said, chopping my hand down emphatically. "End of story."
"You never said anything about Kurt being your," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "Escort."
"He wasn't!" I sat closer to him. "The paper made that up. I wasn't with him. He followed me out and they took that picture. That's it."
"What time did you get home that night? When I woke up, it was almost 8:30. Dave said you left the fundraiser at 6:00 – with Kurt."
I exhaled in frustration and fear that he'd never understand.
"I did leave at 6:00. I didn't want to stay because Kurt was there. He followed me out. I didn't leave with him. He cornered me, I told him I was with you and was happy, and then I left. I took a cab because the limo driver was away and I wanted to escape Kurt. I got home around 6:15 and you were asleep so I didn't wake you up."