“Oh, yes. Of course,” she said, picking up the small pile of messages she would have to return the next day and the few notes she’d taken.

I stood there as she walked toward her boyfriend. His hand went around her waist, a possessive gesture, and they walked side by side toward the door.

She suddenly stopped. “Thank you,” she said quietly, “for everything.”

Not used to the sentiment of being thanked, I didn’t know how to respond. Luckily, I didn’t have to. She turned and vanished into the darkened waiting area before I’d had the time to form a single word, and I was left dumbstruck and somewhat disturbed by the feelings swirling in my gut.

Sitting back down in my uncomfortable desk chair, I did the only thing that I knew would bring me back to where I needed to be, back to the man who would get the job done.

Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed my cell phone and punched in the speed-dial number I’d reserved for this very occasion.

“Hello?” the sultry voice on the other end answered.

“Are you working tonight?” I asked.

“No, I’m home,” Jo replied.

“Find a babysitter, and be at my place in an hour.”

I needed to regain my focus.

It was time to get back on schedule.

“You seem distant,” Jo said as we settled back into the sheets, our bodies still slick with the sweat of passion.

“What do you mean?” I asked casually, barely paying attention, as my eyelids began to drift close.

“Well, you’re always a little distant. Removed, I guess would be a better term.”

That got my attention a little, and suddenly, I found myself wide-awake.

Turning toward her, I rested on my elbow. “Are you saying, you didn’t have a good time? Because the three orgasms I heard say otherwise.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she retorted, playfully slapping me on the arm.

I fell back on the bed, facing the ceiling once more.

“What I’m trying to say is”—she sighed dramatically—“you’re always here physically but not mentally—if that makes sense. And I’m never upset by that fact. Actually, I’m glad for it most of the time,” she added. “It makes what we do together a hell of a lot easier. God knows, I don’t need any strings, but tonight… I don’t know. You seemed even less here, like your mind wasn’t just shut off but somewhere else entirely.”

I nodded silently before answering, “Work is killing me.”

She took my response at face value, not bothering to argue its validity. Why bother? She wasn’t here for anything more than what we’d just done.

But it did make me wonder.

Because she was right.

As I watched her re-dress, readying herself to leave, I found myself reliving our evening together, and I came to a startling conclusion.