Four Friends (37 page)

She poured herself a cup of coffee and began leafing through the paper, beginning with the front page. On to local news. A quick run through the Life section and finally, the editorial pages where most of the political banter took place, especially with the op-ed columns. Suddenly she was looking at the face of her husband beside that of a well-known criminal defense attorney. The headline leaped out at her. Gilbert to Run in District Attorney Race against Archrival.

She stopped breathing. It was difficult to concentrate long enough to read the article, to get past the headline; she had to remember to breathe again. Apparently the chief contenders for the position being vacated by Clay Sturgess were Phil and a criminal defense attorney he’d been up against in court many times, Byron Carter. Carter’s campaign would revolve around his ability to put away criminals because of his vast experience in defending them. There was no comment from Phil.

He’s running? Now? How could he do this to us?

Gerri left the kitchen. In her bedroom she exchanged her robe and nightgown for jeans and a sweatshirt, slipped on some flip-flops. She went back to the kitchen, scribbled a note for the kids, who probably wouldn’t be up for another three hours. She grabbed her purse and the editorial section of the paper.

Gerri got in her car. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror, then took a closer look. She hadn’t even glanced at herself before leaving the house. Her hair was spiking every which way and she had a crease down the side of her face from her pillow.
What the hell,
she thought. This was hardly a social call.

She parked right behind Phil’s car and went straight to his door. She tried just opening it, but found it locked, so she pounded. It was not yet seven-thirty, but she knew he wouldn’t be asleep. When the door opened, she was met with his frown. He was freshly showered and shaved, his pants barely pulled on, zipped but not buttoned, his chest and feet were bare, a towel was draped around his neck. This was not his usual Sunday–morning routine or attire, to shower right off and wear decent pants, Gerri thought. In fact, he could usually manage to look like a vagrant till late afternoon. She said nothing, holding the newspaper toward him, her expression dark, her voice unreliable.

He didn’t take the paper. He stepped aside so she could enter, then pushed the door closed. The coverlet was pulled over the sheets on his lumpy bed and the newspaper was scattered there. “It’s a leak,” he said as she came toward him. “I haven’t announced anything. I’m as surprised by the editorial as you are. I was on my way over to the house to explain.”

“
Someone
thinks you’re running,” she said angrily. “Without even mentioning it, much less talking to me about it.”

“Because I made it clear that until you and I get our issues resolved, I can’t make a firm commitment.”

“So—you’ve been talking to
someone,
” she said hotly.

“I was approached, of course. Who else are they going to approach when Sturgess moves on? I didn’t think it would be this soon, but I wasn’t exactly shocked. He has bigger fish to fry.”

“Who approached you?”

“First it was Sturgess. Then it was his election committee. They’re trying to be patient, but if you read the article, you can see—they need a candidate right now. A strong one. They can’t let that yahoo gather votes while they shop around.”

“Why in God’s name didn’t you tell me you’d been approached?” she railed. “I didn’t even know Sturgess was leaving!”

“Because I didn’t want it to get in the way of the stuff we’re trying to sort out,” he said, raising his voice to match hers. “This isn’t a reason to work things out! This is a possibility that comes
after
we’ve worked things out!”

“But you want it! Admit it, you
want
it!”

“Of course I want it! It’s what I’ve worked toward for more than twenty-five years! There was a time we both wanted it! I want it almost as bad as I want you, but I’m not going to make that kind of choice. Not now. Not yet!”

“Have you told them we’re separated? That you had an affair?”

“What do you think? I
had
to tell them. You don’t let people put in their time and go looking for money if you’re hiding things.”

“And they still want you? With this shit going on in your life?”

“A consensual relationship years ago, brief separation and counseling—not even interesting these days. Certainly not front-page news. That bastard Carter is going to go after my prosecutorial record and try to make me look like a wimp who won’t be able to put away bad guys and we’re going to make him look like a defender of bad guys for over twenty years and therefore unable to make the transition. That’s what the real fight’s going to be about—not about our marriage. Besides, Carter has way more dirty linen than I do. If he draws first blood, he’ll be up to his eyeballs in mistresses....”

“God,” Gerri said, tossing her paper on his bed. “You already talk like a candidate. You can’t reel this back in, can you?”

He stepped toward her. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I wanted to get us back together, healthy and on track, then make a final, official decision,
together.
If this hadn’t been something you’d always wanted to do
with
me, I wouldn’t even have listened to the proposal. But you wanted it, too!”

“You’re doing it again! Keeping secrets!”

“No! It’s not a secret! I didn’t agree to anything—aren’t you listening?”

“Have you thought about what it will be like if it comes up—the other woman? Humiliating your family publicly?”

“I haven’t told anyone but Kelly the reason for our separation!” he stormed. “You’re not humiliated, goddamn it! You’re self-righteous!”

She took another step toward him. “What makes you so sure she isn’t going to come out of the woodwork and claim some kind of abuse or harassment? Making your situation
interesting?
”

“Because I may be an idiot, but I’m still an idiot who’s a pretty goddamn good judge of character! She won’t do that!”

“Did you give
them
a name?”

“No! I told them if I become a candidate and they have to investigate all the angles, they’ll get a name!”

“Then
I’ll
get a name,” she shouted.

“Don’t you think you’d look a lot better if you didn’t know? Then it’s about us, no one else! What’s the difference, Gerri? You wanna go beat her up?”

“You bastard, you’re going to do this. You’re going to run! And I’m going to look like the bad guy again!”

He ran a hand through his damp hair. “I don’t see how the hell this makes you look like
anything!
What more can I do to show you my family comes first? If this isn’t good for us, we don’t do it. Period!”

She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “And give up something you’ve wanted your entire career? It wasn’t easy staying in the prosecutor’s office, doing the people’s work, when private practice would’ve gotten you that stupid sailboat you’ve always wanted—don’t you think that’s been clear for decades?” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I can’t ask you to give up the most important career move of your life! The kids would
hate
me! Your mother would never forgive me!”

“It’s not about them,” he said. They were nose to nose. He put a hand on her waist. “It’s about us. You and me. I want
us
back.”

“Broadsided,” she said, a tear spilling over. “This was the last thing I expected. Jesus, I’ve wanted it, too! It’s been almost as important to me as to you! You deserve to be the D.A. You should probably be the governor, but they’re not smart enough to run you!” She leaned toward him, crying. “Goddamn you! You should’ve told me! Prepared me. You shouldn’t have handled it like this, risking shocking me like this.”

He slipped his hand under her shirt and gently stroked her bare back. “Yeah, guilty,” he said. He put his lips against her forehead. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t tell you, not yet. I was afraid you’d think it was an excuse to get you back. And I don’t want you back that way.”

“But it’s working out that way, anyway!” she cried. “Because if you don’t step up now, whoever they put on the ballot is going to win against Carter and hold that D.A. spot for another ten or twelve years. And by then...”

“Whatever is best for us, Gerri,” he said. “If one of your conditions was that I leave the prosecutor’s office, I’d do it. Don’t you get it? My marriage is more important than anything else.”

“It’s so unfair! I can’t say go for it, I can’t say don’t!”

“Then don’t do anything,” he whispered. “Can’t you give yourself time to think? The kids aren’t going to read the paper.”

“They’ll hear,” she said. “Their friends’ parents pay attention to these things.”

He kissed her temple, her cheek. “We’ll tell the kids we’re still working on us—we haven’t made a decision.”

“That’s when the pressure will start,” she said. She cried and he soothed her. He pressed his lips to hers. And before long the crying stopped and the kissing intensified. There had been kisses good-night as he left the house lately, kisses that had grown long, deep, hot and tempting, so this wasn’t new. He let his lips linger, touching hers carefully. Then he pressed his mouth against hers, tasting tears, her morning coffee, her sweet flesh. He pressed harder, forcing her lips open with his, breathing shallowly. His hand slipped around from her back to her bare breast and he heard her groan low in her throat. She put her arms around him to hold him closer.

“Don’t you dare,” she whispered.

“I want you back,” Phil murmured.

“How dare you try to get me turned on in the middle of one of the best fights we’ve had in years!”

“Sorry,” he muttered, going after her mouth again. He thumbed her nipple into prominence, tasted the inside of her mouth and pulled her very willing tongue into his mouth, crushing her against him hard enough to leave her breathing labored. His lips slipped from her mouth to her neck. “I’m not sorry,” he whispered. “God, Gerri, I miss you.”

“I hate you,” she said.

“Fine,” he said, going back to her mouth, his hand slipping from her breast to her butt to pull her hard against him. He was erect and ready and for a split second, knowing he was out of his mind, he hoped it wasn’t just another erection that would prove meaningless. “Go ahead and hate me,” he said still kissing her. She bit his lip. “Ah!” he shouted, pulling back, two fingers going straight to his lip.

He stared down into her eyes, now tearless but bright. They were glittering with rage or maybe something else. He felt her hands at his waistband and she gave a powerful tear, ripping the zipper open, possibly breaking it.

“Okay, then,” he said, going after her mouth again, covering it in a passionate kiss that left little doubt where they were headed. He felt her hand snake down the waist of his shorts and grab hold of him. “Be very careful, Gerri,” he whispered in warning, and for a breathless moment, he was afraid of what she might do with that special member in her hand. There had been a constant subtext to all her bitching that she’d like to see it yanked off. But she stroked him firmly, lovingly and he couldn’t suppress a deep groan of pleasure. Her other hand slipped up his chest, running over his pecs, finding a nipple and stimulating it into a hard little pebble.

“You make me furious,” she said against his open mouth. He couldn’t make any fast moves. She had him at a disadvantage; she was in control of his favorite organ.

With great care, he pulled her hand out of his pants and once he was free, he whirled her around and pressed her up against the door. “You’re really full of the devil this morning, aren’t you?” he asked. Holding her against the door with the full length of his body, he slipped his hands under her shirt and captured her breasts, one in each hand. He kissed her again, feeling her hands run up and down his back, her breathing fast, response, sweet response in her kiss. He locked his hands onto the hem of her shirt and pulled it up in one fast motion, bringing it over her head and off her arms, leaving her bare. He bent his head to her breast.

“Don’t hurt me,” she whispered.

He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. “I’ve never hurt you,” he said. “You’ve never once been afraid of me.” Then he continued, bending to her breast, teasing a nipple with his tongue, sucking gently. He heard the sound of her head dropping back against the guesthouse door, then the sound of her desire, a low, delicious moan. Her fingers were running through his hair, holding his head against her breast.

He found the snap on her jeans with his hands and opened them, quickly but much more gently than her performance on his pants. He put his hands on her hips under the jeans and began to slide them down, but she had her legs locked together tight and the jeans wouldn’t move. He pushed down again—nothing. He rose to her lips, kissed her lightly once, twice, then said, “Give ’em up, Gerri.”

“This is a bad idea,” she said. “I’m mad at you. Very, very mad.”

“So what? I’m a little pissed off myself. Give ’em up, come on.”

The tension came out of her thighs and she relaxed her legs just enough so he could push her jeans down. When they were around her ankles she kicked them off and her hands went to his hips. She pushed his trousers down and he stepped out of them easily. They were both naked, pressed up against the door, the first time anything like this had happened in months. Maybe years...

“This isn’t going to change anything,” she said.

“It could change two things,” he said, his voice husky and low. “One for you. One for me.”

“I don’t feel like it,” she said sullenly.

And he laughed. “Cooperate and you just might.”

“You’re about the last person I feel like cooperating with,” she said, but she held him close just the same.

“Maybe, but I’m the only one standing here naked with you, jabbing you with the best of intentions.” He tongued her lips, she nibbled at his. “I think rage is an aphrodisiac for you, Gerri. Oh, God, you feel so good.” His hand crept lower, slipped down over her pubis, probing. She tensed, but he pushed gently onward until she relaxed. He covered her lips hungrily while slipping his hand into that dark, secret place—no secret to him. He’d been here before, but it had been a long time. He met with slick folds. She could fool herself, but not him. This woman was his woman, and although the past ten years had been too void of this intimacy, it wasn’t as though he’d forgotten the passion they were capable of sharing. He stroked, gently at first, then harder, his mouth on her mouth, her groans of pleasure echoing inside him, her knees buckling from time to time. He ran a hand down over her hip, down the back of her thigh to the back of her knee and brought it up again.