My day-after-Drew was spent in bed. I needed to think. Post-divorce, I had now had two meet-and-greet sexual encounters - Drew and Haden. Both of those had resulted in sex that was better than any other I'd experienced. I wondered what that said about me. Then I decided not to think about it too intently. But I needed to be completely honest with myself and admit that I wanted more sex with Drew. Did I miss our friendship? Not really. That happened a long time ago. Did I want to see if we could have a romantic relationship? No. That wasn't even on my radar. Was I dying for him to put his penis inside me again? Oh, yes. I couldn't even think about it without needing new panties. I was even at the point where I was willing to forget that he might be cheating on someone else in order to be with me. So probably it was best that I had no way to contact him.
When I discussed this with Kendra, she rolled her eyes at me. "Seriously, Hales, you're being ridiculous. You loved sex with Drew. So go back to his house, bang on the door, apologize for the fuck and flee, and set up a schedule. If the two of you make it exclusive, your risk of infection decreases, you have a healthy physical release, and it's with someone you're deeply attracted to. It's a win-win."
"I'm not ready for any kind of commitment," I said. "Besides, even if he said it was exclusive, it might not be. He could be lying."
Kendra shook her head. "Haley, not every man cheats."
"Yeah, but Kendra, a fuck-buddy? That just seems to reek of infidelity."
"Why?" She narrowed her eyes at me as she said, "You know, Haley, there are people who like sex, but don't really want to fuck a million people. They want someone who rocks their world without actually being their world, and they don't want to deal with a possible pregnancy or STIs. They make their own rules. You could do this and stop whining about not getting an orgasm from your parade of one-night stands."
"Kendra, it's not like I'm running out and having sex with strangers every weekend. And how am I supposed to know if someone's going to give me an orgasm or not?"
Kendra raised her hands in surrender. "You're right. You're not promiscuous. Including Drew, you've probably had sex with four people since your divorce. I just worry about you."
Five, I thought to myself, but I never told you about the first. "You worry about me because of my sex life?" I lifted an eyebrow.
She pulled me into a big hug. "No. I just worry about you. You run from any type of commitment, you don't trust men at all, and you still think about going back to your ex sometimes."
"I don't."
Kendra sighed. "You do. And I get it. You were with him for more than a decade. You wanted to have babies with him. You didn't need him to, but he took care of you. And even though you found out what a fucking bastard he was, there are still times when I know you're remembering what it was like when you weren't alone."
I hated that she knew this about me. But I knew there were times when she thought about her own ex-husband. Even though he beat the shit out of her, there were also times when he had been tender and sweet. It was twisted and wrong, but those times were just as real as the horrible ones. And sometimes brains couldn't figure out what parts were necessary to remember in order to stay safe. Especially when, in the midst of the loneliness, something familiar felt compelling and important.
I was still thinking about this when I went to work Monday morning.
I loved my job. One of the perks of having a husband who often traveled for work (translation: banged any female he could while telling me he was on a work trip) and wanted to put off having children (in retrospect, thank my fucking stars!), was that I had a lot of free time. In the early months of our marriage, Brad had pressured me to enter the field of administration which required minimal education. I was in my third year at the university, and he said I could quickly and easily finish an undergraduate business degree and then get a job in an office providing support.
I had bigger dreams. I wanted to become a software engineer. I ignored Brad's declarations that I was wasting money, that I was a woman and would probably never be hired, that his career needed to be put first and then he would make enough money so that I wouldn't even need to work (which was actually true - his salary was more than enough to support us both). Again, thank my fucking stars that I had at least a modicum of independence spurring me to stand up to him. I insisted on completing my undergraduate degree in software development and breezed through the software engineering graduate degree. Then I applied for and received a paid internship while I decided where I wanted to land professionally.
I was only now understanding just how dysfunctional my marriage was. Brad and I rarely talked. I dressed up and went to professional functions with him where he could brag about his "beautiful wife," talking about my physical assets but never once discussing my academic or professional achievements. I wasn't sure he even registered that I had them.
I met Jamie during my internship. He introduced me to his business partner, Skyler, and the three of us joined forces - JHS Applications. We tested software for other programmers, piloted systems upgrades for existing software, and consulted with businesses to help them find the programs and apps that would best suit their needs. The three of us created minor original apps, some of which were popular and some of which were not. But all through the process of building our business, our reputation grew along with our client list. By the time Skylar and Jamie fell in love and got married, we'd hired enough staff that our roles had become largely advisory and our salaries were more than just comfortable.
I never talked with Brad about the lucrative business venture I'd become a part of, and he never asked. All my money was put away in what I called our Vacation Account. I really did believe that one day, perhaps for our silver anniversary, we would take a long cruise, or go to France, or experience an African safari. I wanted it to be my treat - a surprise for my husband. When the account hit its first million, I told Jamie I wanted to reinvest in the company. He said there was no need, so the money just continued to accumulate. When I filed for divorce, because there was no countersuit, the Vacation Account remained intact, belonging solely to me. Now, untouched, it continued to grow. I lived exclusively on the proceeds of my divorce. Thus far, even with lavish spending, it would be a long time before that lump sum settlement was spent down.
I looked at my appointment calendar. This week promised to be less busy for me than normal. Jamie and Skyler had allowed me to immerse myself in work during and after my divorce, but in the past three months, they'd cut me back, forcing me to delegate everything possible to our staff members in order to combat the burnout hovering on my horizon. They were also encouraging me to go on a long vacation. I hadn't been onboard, but this morning, thinking about the balance in my Vacation Account, I was considering it. I wondered if we had enough confidence in our staff for the three of us to go together. I could bring Kendra, too.
With all my normal tasks delegated, I found myself with a free morning so I used the time to prepare a presentation, complete with videos and lush photos, of possible vacation destinations. Then I grinned as I sent a lunch meeting invitation to Jamie and Skyler. I was actually looking forward to this.
Ten minutes later, I found myself frowning at their responses. They had accepted my meeting invitation but attached an agenda. Apparently, we had a client coming, one attached to a very large account. He wanted to meet with us for lunch today. This was unusual. When businesses made the decision to engage our services, they usually wanted to negotiate terms as soon as possible, but there was always an email chain preceding the meeting in which we discussed basic needs and offerings. Often there was a service estimate prepared and approved before meeting in person. If the email chain existed, I had not been included. I was more than a little miffed about it.
Sighing, I looked over the agenda. We were having lunch brought in, and Skyler was requesting the meeting take place in my office. I knew why. His office and Jamie's were always cluttered. Their messes made sense to them, but I was a tidy freak. Even when I was busy every minute, I did all my work on my computer. My assistant took care of any papers that might need to be printed or filed. I never touched them. Because of this, Jamie and Skyler had given me the largest office with the loveliest view, and let me know I'd be hosting the majority of our client meetings when they weren't taking place in a conference room. There were times when something smaller and more intimate seemed appropriate for certain clients. They liked feeling a personal touch as we worked with them. My office would provide that.
I looked at the list of attendees to see how many I should plan for, but it had gone to a group email address, not to individuals. No help there. I did a quick once-over of the meeting table and chairs at the end of my office, straightened a couple of photos on my desk, and looked at the clock. I had ten minutes before the food would arrive. I took time to check my appearance, suddenly wishing I'd leaned more toward business formal rather than business sexy today.
After my weekend, I had felt the need to dress up for work. My clothes were simple; I was wearing a deep blue silk blouse, a black pencil skirt, and stilettos that matched the blue of my top. The sexy came in the mid-thigh slit on my skirt. It wasn't high enough to be slutty, but it did showcase my knee and about three inches of skin above that. The blouse wasn't low-cut, but anyone who was standing in front of me wouldn't have to guess what the tops of my breasts looked like. Pressing my lips together, I cursed Jamie and Skyler for not including me in the email preamble for this meeting. I definitely would have chosen a blazer, no slit, and something that buttoned to my chin.
Sighing, I applied sheer gloss to my lips, tidied my long, dark curls, and placed my laptop on the meeting table. When the food arrived, I arranged it on the sidebar where I'd placed glasses for ice water and cups for coffee or tea. My office door was open, so I could hear Jamie and Skyler approaching. They were laughing, engaged in lively conversation with our client. My assistant brought in printed copies of the agenda along with some meeting notes Skyler had prepared. I took the stack of papers from her, letting her know I'd distribute them. I was placing a copy in front of each seat when Jamie poked his head through the door.
"Hey, Haley, sorry to spring this on you, but our new client is a blast from your past. He thought it might be fun to surprise you."
"Oh?" I'd been looking over Skyler's notes. Peripherally, I noted three pairs of legs entering the room and looked up to greet my partners and the new client. Jamie and Skyler were grinning, Jamie rocking back on his heels, excited to see my reaction.
I extended my hand to the woman behind them, wondering why Jamie thought this was someone I knew. She was stunning, all long legs, auburn hair, and incredible clear blue eyes. This was not a person I would forget. "Haley Williams," I murmured, as she shook my hand and answered, "Brinley Davis."
"I'm afraid I don't understand," I turned to Jamie and Skyler, "Ms. Davis and I- "
"Brinley, please," she interrupted.
I nodded, "Brinley and I have never met before."
"No," a deep voice answered me as one more person entered my office, "but we have."