The kitchen is quiet, the only sound coming from the birds outside. This is why everyone loves it here. It’s almost its own world.
I venture out onto the back porch, Ford’s words echoing in my head. He’s wrong—I am happy. I live my life exactly how I want it. I designed it this way.
I had to.
A myriad of imagery races through my mind. I can see her tears rolling down her tanned cheeks, feel my stomach twist in what I’m sure is some kind of death knell. I see my father’s disapproving face and my mother’s look of sympathy, and I know I can never do that again.
The last time I went off plan, I nearly lost everything. Anxiety sets in, my head filling with what-ifs—questions I’ll never have answers to. Maybe answers I don’t even want because it won’t make any difference. Things are what they are. There is no changing that. I go through my well-practiced routine of reminding myself I’ll never lose control like that again in order to gain some relief.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out, happy for the distraction. I see a familiar number, a woman I meet sometimes for a bite to eat and then a quick fuck. It’s routine between us, neither of us wanting more than a release. I return her message with a quick text that I’m busy tonight, even though I’m not. I’m just not feeling it.
Even as I type that out, I know it’s a lie. I am feeling it, just not with her. As my brain begins to parade images of Mallory Sims through my memory, my lips part into a smile.
“What is it about you, Mallory?” I ask out loud, my voice carrying off in the wind. Unfortunately for me, the wind doesn’t answer.
As my brothers have attested, there’s no denying her beauty. She’s fucking beautiful with her sexy lips, bright eyes, curvy body. Her brains make her a step ahead of the other women I see occasionally, because brains and beauty in one package? That’s heaven, a combination that just does it for me. But I’ve seen it before. Once, to be sure. Or so I thought. And that’s precisely why I’m not about to do it again.
As hard as it is, figuratively and literally, to work with her every day, I have to make it happen. She’s the best thing to happen to my office since Linda. The fact that she opens up parts of me that haven’t been touched since Vanessa is the scary part.
I let the sun shine down on my face, warming me. As my eyes shut, it’s Mallory’s giggle I hear and the heat of her breath I imagine on my skin. Instead of going back in the house like I should, stopping this stupid little fantasy before it gets out of hand, or worse, routine, I stand on the porch and relish the feeling for a few more minutes.
The fact that I’m not just imagining her beneath me, losing myself inside her, but thinking about her smile, the way she tells a story—that’s a problem. It’s the scariest part of all.
Mallory
My bright red toenails wiggle in front of me. “This close, Joy. This. Close.” I bring my hands to my feet and stretch on the purple yoga mat under me.
“You were this close to half of the dreams I’ve had in my life,” she laughs from her Downward Facing Dog. “I used to practice writing ‘Joy Landr
y’ in my notebooks. I wasn’t even sure which one I wanted. Come to think of it, I don’t think I really cared.”
I struggle to keep the smile off my face, but when I look at Joy and our eyes meet, we both start giggling. “Graham, Joy. Oh. My. God.”
“What are you going to do about it?” she asks. “You work for him. It’s not like you met him at some charity ball or something.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” I say, touching my toes. “I’m just going to go with the flow. See what happens. I mean, let’s be real. Nothing is really going to happen. It’s Graham Landry and me.”
“Shut up. Don’t talk about yourself like that.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. He can have whomever he wants. Even if I get lucky and somehow get lucky,” I grin, “that’s all it will be.”
“Will you be okay with that?” she asks skeptically.
“I hope . . .” I say, grimacing as the muscles in my legs start to burn, “I’m more than okay with it.” Standing, I look at her. “I’m taking risks, remember? I’ve never been able to just flirt and be spontaneous and have fun. If Graham plays back with me, then he does. I’m more than happy to be on the receiving end of that. If he stops or gets weird about it, I’ll stop. It’s pretty simple.”
She smiles and goes back to her stretching. I go back to my endless thoughts.
I’m not sure it is as simple as I just made it out to be. I explained it like it’s a purely physical attraction, and it is, for the most part. But I can’t deny I enjoyed talking to him yesterday. Our banter was fun, easy, and having him interested in what I had to say, even if he was humoring me, was the most fun I’ve had with a man in a long time. Maybe ever. That’s sad, but it’s also true.
The bells chime on the door of the yoga studio where I work part-time in the evenings. It’s closed, the last class wrapping just a few minutes ago. Sienna introduced me to yoga in high school when it was the trendy thing to do. She does it off and on, but I was hooked immediately and haven’t stopped. I love the way it centers me. Without it, my body and my mind would be even more chaotic than they are now.
“Hey, girls,” Camilla says, dropping her pink bag to the floor and removing her shoes.
“Hi,” Sienna says, padding across the mat. They roll out their mats and take seats next to Joy and I, forming a haphazard circle. “What are you two talking about? You looked all chatty until we walked in.”
Joy looks at me out of the corner of her eye with a smirk. “Do you two really want to know?”
“Maybe not,” Camilla says, her brows pulling together. She looks at me with a puzzled look. “Do I, Mal?”