S.E.C.R.E.T. Shared (Secret 2)

It was a Sunday, but Matilda was there. And she was alone.

“Know anything about corporate charitable tax deductions?” she said instead of hello.

I followed her into her office, where half a dozen ledgers lay spread out on her desk.

“’Fraid not. Are you in the middle of something?”

“Oh, just cooking the books. Trying to figure out operating costs. How much longer we can stay afloat. How’s the baby? Is she just dreamy?”

“Tiny and cute, yes.”

“Has Dauphine called you yet?”

“My phone was off, the battery’s dead. Oh my god! Her Mark fantasy was last night! I completely forgot! How did it go? Did you talk to her?”

“She left here about an hour ago.”

I noted the time. Almost two in the afternoon.

“An eighteen-hour fantasy? So … I take it went well?”

“Maybe a little too well.”

She filled me in on all the juicy details, and I had to admit I was envious. And though I had known Mark was her type, I had no idea they were both so ripe for something deeper, and so soon.

“It happened to Pauline two years ago with a recruit,” Matilda said. “Same sort of thing. But Pauline stayed. Dauphine’s out, I’m sad to say. Mark too. They both seem very happy … And now I have a feeling we’re going to lose you too. Am I right?”

“You mean to Jesse? We’re not there. Not yet. Or do you mean with Will? With Will, that would be a non-starter.”

“Are you sure?”

I filled her in on the paternity drama and the strange conundrum I faced. Will or Jesse? I couldn’t have both.

“Has Will asked you to be with him?”

“No.”

“Has Jesse?”

“Kind of. I mean, he’s, we’re … it’s good, you know? I really like Jesse and the sex is amazing. But I think … I think I love Will.”

“Have you told Will this?”

“No.”

She steepled her fingers in thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You can’t keep catching him between women, Cassie.”

“But what about Jesse?”

“Something tells me Jesse will survive. And he always has a home here.”

My stomach dropped at the thought of him with anyone else. Matilda had a soft spot for him, that I knew. What have I done? What do I do

?

“When you have it sorted, let us know. I was hoping you’d join the Committee next. At least with your vote we might finally get a redheaded man past the initial selection round. Meanwhile, these were just mailed to the press and other important guests,” she said, sliding open a drawer. She handed me an invitation. “I hope you can make it. And be sure to bring a date. Either one of them.”