Page 24 of The Press Secretary's Passion
But as I drive away with my greasy paper sack, I find I’m not really hungry at all. I sip my shake on the way home, pull into my garage, and park my car. I toss the takeout bag on the counter and chuck my shake cup in the trash. I open the fridge and pull out an open bottle of wine. Pouring it in a glass, I then tuck the bottle under my arm before scooping up my paper sack and walking into the dark living room. I set my bounty on the coffee table and plop down onto the couch.
I don’t bother to switch on the lights, but I do turn on the television to an old movie channel. It’s a black-and-white flick, and you can just tell it’s not going to have a happy ending. Thank God. I don’t think I could handle that right now.
I hear my phone ringing in the kitchen where I dropped my purse, but I let it ring. Who cares anyway?
I drink half the glass in one big sip and let it swirl in my brain for a bit. And then I set down my glass and pick up my burger. I manage to eat half of it, but I can’t eat more than that, so I toss it back into the bag and roll it up, destined for the trash.
I drink another glass of wine while I watch the movie wrap up a tragic end that I can’t seem to feel anything for, because I just feel so numb.
I pick up the empty bottle and my glass in one hand and the detritus from my dinner in the other and walk back into the kitchen. I put the glass in the sink and the garbage in the trashcan and recycling before shutting off the lights. Then I head back into the living room, switch off the TV, and head upstairs.
I know there’s no way I can sleep tonight, but still, I should try. I have a big day tomorrow. Somewhere between the deep love the two main characters felt for each other and when the hero drove his car off a cliff, I decided to go on safari in Africa indefinitely. I watched a Bear Grylls show the other night and found it fascinating. Tonight, it sounds like a great life plan. So tomorrow, I’ll give Jake my resignation and then get lost, and if my luck prevails, I’ll be eaten by a hippo by this time next week.
Hope prevails.
I make my way up the stairs, still not bothering to turn on any lights, and head to my bedroom at the back of the house overlooking the backyard. I turn to my dressing table, pull off my sweatshirt, and kick off my sneakers. I’m not going to get ready for bed other than just falling in it, leggings and tanks and all, but not my bra. I reach under the hem behind my back and pulls it up over my head easily before sliding it out from the arm hole of my shirt.
“So boyfriend, huh?” someone says from behind me. “I haven’t been one of those in a long fucking time.”
And just like in the old movie I watched, I let out a scream worthy of Janet Leigh.
“New Social Media Polls Show Fairchild ‘Hottest’ Press Secretary of All Time”
Chapter 7
It’s not as bad as it looks
“Come here,” Ryan says as he lounges back on my bed. I press my palm to my heart to try to slow its fast beat that threatens to burst out of my chest. His eyes lower from my face to my breasts and heat. But I can’t let this happen.
“What are you doing here?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks.
“Not to me.”
“Come here,” he repeats, and I swear my body wants to go to him even though I know I shouldn’t. I can’t. I cannot allow myself to be that woman.
“I met your wife,” I blurt out and wish I hadn’t because of how much vulnerability it shows. Ryan has this hold over me, and we both know it.
He sighs and runs the hand of the not-bandaged arm through his dark hair. “Ex-wife.”
“That’s not what I heard,” I mutter.
“Well, you would have if you hadn’t ran away,” he says. “And you’d have met her husband, Alan. Great guy. Civilian. He’s in IT.”
“IT?”
“Yeah, tech guy,” he explains. “A real computer nerd.”
“A nerd?” I ask stupidly, because I’m so surprised by the idea that Ryan and the beautiful blonde aren’t together. They belong together. They fit in such a perfect way with their gorgeous dark-haired, almost grown children.
“Come here, honey, and I’ll tell you about it,” he says gently.
“I don’t think I should.”
“Why not?” he asks casually, and I don’t think; I just respond, and I do it honestly.
“Because I lose my head when you’re in close proximity.”
