“Well,” she says, “it’s not that I think he’s a killer. If that’s what you think. God, no. He’s not that tough. I’ve seen him back down in the boardroom countless times. Between you and me and the fence post, he’ll never make director level. Especially now.”

That’s the world she lives in. Adam too, I think. Everything is about the corporate climb.

I put her back on track. “Carrie, what’s troubling you about Adam?”

“Okay,” she says, now playing with the plastic lid from her coffee cup. “I saw a news report about Adam having an affair with someone.”

“Linda London’s story?” I ask.

“Right. That’s the one.”

She grows suddenly silent.

And I let her.

I want her to think very carefully about what she’s about to say. I don’t want to prompt her. It’s awkward for a few beats. Awkward, however, is fine in an interview. I’m troubled far more by the person who rattles off his or her story as though it’s a speech they’ve memorized and expects some kind of a prize.

“Okay,” she continues, “I can’t say that Adam and I were having an affair, but we did have an intimate encounter or two.”

Intimate encounter sounds like corporation speak to my ears.

I remain expressionless and urge her to continue.

“I don’t want to say it was a fling,” she says, “but I guess that’s what it was. Booty call is what the kids call it, I guess. That sounds so tasteless to me. I guess fling is better.”

Fling really isn’t much better, I think. He was married, after all.

“It was a few years ago. Maybe three or four. I can check my calendar. I keep records for everything.”

“So the affair wasn’t recent?”

“I’m going with fling,” she says, correcting me. “Affair seems too personal for what it was. It was just sex. Really, that’s all it was. He was going through some stuff with his marriage, I think. I was divorced. It wasn’t ideal, but I think being with Adam was what I needed at the time.”

She’s treating Adam like he was some kind of counselor.

“Right. No strings. Just something you needed,” I say. “And he and Sophie were having problems?”

Carrie rakes her nails through her hair.

“He never really said. I just know that he was always working late and she was always working late and their marriage seemed to be teetering. I’ve seen it before. Of course, it’s happened to me too.”

“Did the fling continue for a period of time and then end amicably? As I understand it, you still work together, right?”

Carrie snaps the lid back on her cup, a smear of red lipstick in a half moon on its outer edge.