had dinner every Wednesday at the Boulderado, and attended the theater or a concert every Friday. He usually stayed at her condo two nights a week. She never stayed at his place; she said she couldn’t be comfortable there.
Why hadn’t he realized before how boring and predictable his life had become? He looked at his plate. Right down to the same New York cheesecake every Wednesday night for dessert.
“Mitch, why are you so quiet? Haven’t you been paying attention to a word I’ve said?” Did he imagine a note of annoyance in her voice?
He pushed his plate away. “I don’t want to talk about business tonight.”
She frowned. “Then what do you want to talk about?”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her across the table. “Why don’t we talk about us?”
Her eyes widened and she looked away. She balanced her knife and fork precisely in the center of her plate and folded her napkin neatly beside it. “I’m listening.”
And what did he have to say? How could he describe this restlessness he felt? “Lana, do you ever think about doing things differently?” he asked.
“Doing what things differently?” She sipped her coffee.
Decaf, extra cream, no sugar, Mitch thought.
“Anything. Everything.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “For instance, sex.”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean—do you ever think about…experimenting. Dressing up in sexy clothes or using some massage oil or…something.”
By this time her cheeks were the color of ripe apples and her lips had almost disappeared as she compressed her mouth into a thin line. “Really, Mitch. Why would you want to do any of that?”
“I don’t know…because it might be fun. Because maybe we’ve both been a little too…repressed.”
She stared at him. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing’s gotten into me. I just think my life has grown a little…boring. I don’t see what’s wrong with wanting to try something different.”
“I’m sorry if you think I’m…repressed.” She jerked her napkin from her lap and deposited it on the table.
“Lana, I didn’t mean you—”
“I think I’d better leave now.” She stood and clutched her purse to her chest.
“Lana, I—” The apology froze on his lips. He couldn’t say he was sorry, because he wasn’t. What was wrong with a couple talking about these things?
“Don’t bother to get up. I’ll call a taxi.” She gave him a last wounded look and hurried past him.
He told himself he should go after her. That’s probably what she wanted. But why should he pursue her? If Lana wasn’t even willing to listen to his point of view, what did that say about their relationship? He’d thought the safe, orderly routine they’d fallen into was what he wanted, but he realized that wasn’t enough anymore.
So no, he wouldn’t go after her. Actually it was a nice change sitting here alone, sipping his wine and thinking.
Mostly he thought of Jill. How different she was from Lana. Or from any other woman he knew. She was frank without being crass, funny without being phony. She looked like the girl next door and dressed like an erotic temptress. He’d only met her this afternoon but he already felt like she knew more about him than most people. She’d picked up right away on the reason he wanted to close Just 4 Play, and hadn’t been the least bit impressed with his position or power. She hadn’t cared if he owned a whole city block of businesses or if he was a scholarship student at the university.
He smiled, remembering the way she’d asked “What’s your fantasy?”
But his smile faded as her other words came back to him. Was she right? Was he too uptight? Had he forgotten how to have fun?
She couldn’t know how little room in his life there’d been for fun. From the time he was seventeen, he’d been looking after his mother and little sister, Meg. He’d worked and gone to school, and been there for every band concert and school program of Meg’s. Now that Meg was a premed student, she didn’t need him so much—except to pay the bills. And that meant he had to devote himself to business. To meeting the right people, making the right investments. He’d worked hard to develop a certain reputation. For Meg’s sake, as well as his own, he couldn’t let something like owning a sex toy shop cast a shadow over everything he’d worked for. People judged you more harshly when they knew you came from nothing. If too many people thought that way, you could end up with nothing again.
He’d have time for fun later. Right now he had to take care of his responsibilities.
Which brought him back to Jill. She was one of his responsibilities now too. And Sid. He would let them know he’d treat them fairly. He’d give them a generous severance package and help them find other jobs. Maybe he’d even offer Jill a job in his new restaurant. It would be nice having her around. Maybe one day, she’d even come to think of him as a friend.
JILL WAS SURPRISED TO FIND Mitch hard at work in Grif’s office when she arrived at Just 4 Play the next morning. At least, from the looks of the papers spread out on the desk in front of him, he’d been working; when she knocked on the door frame and stepped through the open door, he was staring into space.
When she came into the room, he glanced at her, then straightened. “Good morning, Jill.”
“Good morning. I see you’re here early.”
“I’ve been here since nine. That’s not exactly early.”
“It is around here. We do most of our business in the evening, though the lunch hour is good, too. People like to pop in and pick up a few things.”
“That gives a whole new slant on the idea of a quickie.”
The remark startled a laugh out of her. Yesterday, Mitch hadn’t struck her as a man with much of a sense of humor. Which just went to show, first impressions aren’t always accurate. “Finding anything interesting?” She nodded at the paperwork on his desk.
He glanced down at the folder in front of him, then closed it. “Tell me, what did you think of Grif?” he asked.
“Grif?” The question surprised her. Why was he interested in her opinion of his uncle? “I liked him,” she said. “He was a fun guy.”
“That’s it? A fun guy?”
“Yeah. I mean, he knew how to enjoy life.” Unlike some uptight people I could name. She leaned against the desk. “I’ll bet he was your favorite uncle, huh?”
Was the hurt that flashed across his face grief, or something else? He pushed the file away. “Did you need something?”
So much for getting to know each other better. Good thing she wasn’t the type to give up easily. She flashed
