Eliza clutched at the pearls about neck as she read the passage from her novel:
Her phone vibrated and she wondered if it was Smith, but then she vibrated herself when she thought it might be Gus. When she looked at her phone, she saw it was Gus.
“Hey,” she said softly, happy that he had won the who was calling her phone lottery.
“Hey, I need to see you. I know you were just here, but I really need to see you and I was hoping…”
“I just left the house, I wanted to be alone I told Smith that, but I want to be with you…” she said, walking faster than the speed of life and walking like traffic signs were not invented. Like cars would not or could not hit her. In Victorian times, she would have moved this way like horses could not rush her.
“I don’t want to make you.”
“I want you to make me.”
She pulled at her pearls, and thought how elegant she looked on her way to her assignation with Gus.
When she arrived at his door, he touched her pearls, and she thought of the pearl necklace he had left on her and could not help but fiddle with these less precious pearls about her neck.
She looked up at him, and all she wanted him to do was make her.
Even in fiction, she could not escape the conflicts that her real life presented. She put the vintage novel down, when she saw Terrence’s name on her office phone, and Rafe’s name on her personal phone.
She crossed her legs tightly, and thought how she would like either man to…
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