I thought of my silent apartment. I thought of Larke and his 'powerful people,' of Ryan and the unknown Daniele, of separation and distance. Then Pete's hand slid to my breast.

'Fuck 'em,' I thought.

Then I thought of nothing else.

CHAPTER NINE

I awoke to the sound of a phone. Pete had drawn the shades, and the room was so dim I needed several rings to locate it.

'Meet me at Providence Road Sundries tonight and I'l buy you a burger.'

'Pete, I—'

'You drive a hard bargain. Meet me at Bijoux.'

'It's not the restaurant.'

'Tomorrow night?'

'I don't think so.'

The line hummed.

'Remember when I wrecked the Volkswagen and insisted we push on?'

'Georgia to Ilinois with no headlights.'

'You didn't speak to me for six hundred miles.'

'It's not like that, Pete.'

'Didn't you enjoy last night?'

I loved last night.

'It's not that.'

I heard voices in the background and looked at the clock. Eight-ten.

'Are you at work?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'Why are you phoning?'

'You asked me to wake you.'

'Oh.' An old routine. 'Thanks.'

'No problem.'

'And thanks for keeping Birdie.'

'Has he made an appearance?'

'Briefly. He looked edgy.'

'The old Bird has become set in his ways.'

'Birdie never liked dogs.'

'Or change.'

'Or change.'

'Some change is good.'

'Yes.'

'I have changed.'

I'd heard that from Pete. He'd said it after his tryst with a court reporter three years earlier, again folowing a Realtor episode. I hadn't waited for the trifecta.

'That was a bad time for me,' he went on.

'Yeah. Me, too.'

I hung up and took a long shower, reflecting on our failings. Pete was where I'd always turned for advice, comfort, support. He'd been my safety net, the calm I'd seek after a day of tempest. The breakup had been devastating, but it had also brought out strength I'd never known I had.

Or ever used.

When I'd toweled off and wrapped my hair, I studied myself in the mirror.

Question: What was I thinking last night?

Answer: I wasn't. I was angry, hurt, vulnerable, and alone. And I hadn't had sex in a very long time.

Question: Would it happen again?

Answer: No.

Question: Why not?

Why not? I stil loved Pete. I had since first laying eyes on him, barefoot and bare-chested on the steps of the law school library. I'd loved him as he lied about Judy, then Elen. I'd loved him as I packed and left two years ago.

And I obviously stil found him sexy as hel.

My sister, Harry, has a Texas expression. Flat ass stupid. Though I love Pete, and find him sexy, I am not flat ass stupid. That's why it would not happen again.