and was escorted to the table. “Hello again,” the other woman greeted her. She pulled out the chair across from Anne Marie.
What struck her all over again was how very young Robert’s assistant was. Young and lovely. Her hair was a rich auburn, shoulder-length and naturally thick. She wore an olive-green skirt and matching jacket with a white silk blouse. An antique cameo—a family heirloom? a gift from Robert?—was pinned at her throat.
“Thank you for taking the time to join me,” Anne Marie said, keeping her voice neutral.
Rebecca didn’t respond; she opened the menu and scanned it, saying, “Perhaps we should order first.”
“Good idea,” Anne Marie said, eager to do anything to delay this uncomfortable conversation. “By the way, this is on me.”
“That’s not necessary,” Rebecca said with cool politeness, “but thanks.”
Anne Marie amended her assessment of Rebecca Gilroy. She might be young and vulnerable-looking, but she had a self-confidence that wouldn’t have been out of place in someone much older.
When the waitress came to take their order, they both chose a soup and salad combination.
“I expect you’re here to discuss what happened between Robert and me,” Rebecca said, leaping headfirst into the conversation Anne Marie had been avoiding—until today.
“Yes.”
“I thought so.” Rebecca kept her eyes lowered and toyed with the spoon, belying the confidence she’d shown just moments before.
“Did Robert lead you to believe we were divorced?” Anne Marie asked bluntly.
“No.”
“Had you been…physically involved before the two of us separated?”
Rebecca shook her head. “No. We…we weren’t actually involved at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, physically—as you put it—we were.” Rebecca shrugged. “I knew the two of you were going through some difficulties and that you were working toward a reconciliation. Mr. Roche didn’t share much of his personal life with me, or anyone else for that matter. I learned you were living apart quite by accident.”
“I see.” Her own fingers moved to the silverware. She caressed the tines of the fork as she listened.
“We were both working lots of extra hours.”
The muscles in Anne Marie’s throat tightened, in nervous anticipation of what Rebecca was about to tell her.
“It was a bad time emotionally for us both. I’d recently broken up with my boyfriend, and I knew you and Robert weren’t living together anymore.”
That was no excuse for what they’d done! Anger and pain raged within her, but Anne Marie dared not let either emotion show.
The waitress chose that moment to bring their meals. The soup, tomato basil, smelled delicious and was accompanied by a Caesar salad with homemade croutons. Anne Marie waited until Rebecca reached for her spoon before she did.
“As I was saying,” Rebecca said, picking up the conversation. “Both Robert and I were at a low point in our lives.”
“And spending a lot of time together,” Anne Marie added.
“Yes.”
“So it was…natural for you to be attracted to each other.”
She shrugged again. “I suppose.”
Any appetite Anne Marie might have had vanished.
“I’m not proud of what happened,” Rebecca said, “and I believe Robert was…ashamed of it.”
“How long did this affair last?” Anne Marie didn’t know what had prompted the question other than the fact that she was obviously looking for more pain. “How…many times did you—”
“Does it matter?” She stared down at the table.
Well, yes, it does, she wanted to say but didn’t. That night she and Robert had slept together, shortly before his death—was he still involved with Rebecca then?
“Afterward everything changed between us,” Rebecca was saying. “We’d had a great working relationship and that was completely ruined by the affair. We tried to keep it quiet and except for that one time when Melissa walked in on us, I don’t think anyone knew.”
She lowered her head and Anne Marie could see that this was as embarrassing for Rebecca as it was for her.
Rebecca raised her head. “I’m surprised Melissa told you. That’s how you found out, isn’t it?”
“She…she was very upset.”
“Robert was, too. He was mortified. His biggest fear was that you’d learn the truth.”
That news was of little comfort. “Had…did he…”
“Did he what?” Rebecca pressed.
It was increasingly difficult even to speak. “Did he see other women? Were there others?” As his personal assistant, Rebecca was in a position to know.
Her hesitation said it all.
“How many?” She would never have believed it. She felt shocked, grieved, that she’d misjudged him so completely.
“One, I think,” Rebecca admitted reluctantly. She seemed unwilling to divulge any more.
“Please,” Anne Marie said urgently. “I need to know.”
“He had me make a reservation at a hotel by the ocean under a different name.”
“Redford?” she asked.
Rebecca’s gaze widened. “You know about her?”
Her throat muscles relaxed. “That was me. Us. We…played this game.” A smile came and went, tinged with humor and relief. Memories of their getaway weekend immediately came to mind. Happy, playful memories that were in stark contrast to what she’d just experienced.
“Okay, well, like I said, that’s the only other time. And it turns out he wasn’t cheating on you.”
“Thank you,” Anne Marie whispered, and she meant it.
“I should tell you that the night Melissa caught us was the last time.” She paused. “Deep down, I know that if we could do everything over again, neither of us would’ve done it.” Her eyes held Anne Marie’s. “I’m not just saying that, either. It’s the truth. If Robert were here, he’d agree.”
“Was there…” The moment had come, and still Anne Marie couldn’t make herself ask the question. “Did he ever tell you why we’d separated?” she asked, taking another route to the question that burned
