Chapter 22

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On a sweaty hot evening in late June, Harvey hung up the phone after having a heated conversation with Melissa Smythe-Drucker—for the third time in one day. He couldn't believe the messy situation he'd gotten himself into, something he was now trying to get out of. Months ago, between his needs and his angst over his failed marriage, he gave Melissa the impression he wanted the same kind of immoral, devil-may-care, carnal existence she led. Only he didn't. After coming to his senses weeks ago, all he wanted was a fresh start, one with no remnants of his illicit trysts, even if Melissa wasn't ready to give them up, he had to convince her she had no other choice. It was over. Sitting at his desk in his office, he was holding his head in his hands knowing there was only one girl he wanted to see, one girl he wanted to talk to about everything and nothing. It was something he'd come to love most about working late, even though he was fighting hard against his feelings. What he wanted blasted to bits work boundaries he'd imposed on himself for good reasons, and pursuing her would make him feel like a "dirty old man." Every time he allowed himself to think, "maybe," he saw images in his mind of him looking as old as Larry King or Hugh Hefner, with Zarah on his arm, her hair in pigtails.

His security team buzzed him out of his trance, telling him his wife was on her way up to see him. After hanging up the phone and running both hands through his hair, he said, out loud, "When it rains, it pours."

Dinah strode into his office as brashly as ever, as if she owned the place. She was barelegged, with the very tall stiletto heels of her red sandals smacking loudly against his chocolate hickory flooring before she reached the Persian rug. As soon as he saw her face, he knew she was distraught, probably seeking sympathy. Her face also revealed she knew she was looking sexy that night. Decked out in a body hugging black dress with spaghetti straps, her ample bosom was straining against its front, her luscious dark hair cascading all around her shoulders. It was clear she put a lot of thought into her outfit as she placed an expensive-looking red leather designer handbag on the edge of his desk. When she took off her expensive sunglasses, her eyes told him more of the story. She'd been crying, and that meant she had an ulterior motive for being in his office, after shedding tears. That moment was when he realized the beautiful woman he'd hung up on a few minutes earlier and the stunning beauty standing in front of him, were very nearly the same woman. He wondered what that said about him; that he kept allowing himself to become entangled in relationships with conniving, controlling women, like Melissa, and like Dinah.

"I have news you might be pleased to hear," she said, after they hugged and fake kissed the air near each other's cheek. "It's about Dr. Hal. He broke up with me."

"Why in the world would I be pleased to hear that?" He motioned for her to have a seat in one of the two peanut-butter colored leather chairs in front of his enormous oak desk. He wasn't at all pleased to hear what she'd just said and had often hoped she and Hal would decide to get married. The sooner his wife was ready to move on, the sooner he'd be able to do the same thing.

"I know you're seeing other women now." She forced a smile. "But don't think I'm here because I'm angry or anything like that. I know you need ... comfort."

What she said told him she knew about Melissa Smythe-Drucker. She wanted him to know she was still plugged in tightly to the regional society grapevines. "Angry?" What she said sounded crazy to him. "Dinah, you were seeing Hal, a friend of ours, while we were together. You have no right to be angry about anything I choose to do now that we're separated. You are the person who threw away what we had."

"I know." She started searching in her purse. "And I'm real sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm just in a mood I guess. Hey, sugar do you mind if I smoke?"

"Yes, I do mind. And please, don't call me 'sugar.'"

After finding and fishing out a red and white box of cigarettes, she threw it back in her purse with a sigh. "Oh all right, on both things. I'll have a smoke later."

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