kissed her longingly again before he left. There were stars in his eyes too.
He came back the next day at lunchtime, and they locked themselves in her father’s office so Theresa wouldn’t walk in on them, and made love on the couch for two hours before he had to go back to the office. It felt crazy and fun and wonderful and exciting. His passion for her was almost frightening at times, and overwhelmed her like a tidal wave, and then gently left her on a beach of softest sand afterward. He was masterful with his tongue and hands.
“I’m so glad you’re not in school,” he whispered to her.
“So am I.” She giggled like the young innocent she was. She wondered about his wife at times, but he said it was over between them, and she believed him. He was an honorable man and she knew he wouldn’t be doing this with her if he had a viable marriage.
He lived up to his plan of taking her out to dinner twice a week, and showed up every day at lunchtime. He arrived one night at midnight, after Sam had left, and spent the night with her, which proved to her that he really did have an understanding with his wife, or he couldn’t have spent the night. She never doubted it for a minute. And it was convenient that Sam had recently stopped staying with her at night.
She told no one about what they were doing, although Sam questioned her a few times. But she was careful not to let anything show to him. She didn’t want Sam to know. He had been odd about Ed since her parents died and suspicious of him, almost as if he was jealous.
“Are you okay? You seem so distracted sometimes,” Sam commented. He assumed it was part of the grief process but it worried him.
“I’m fine, I’m feeling better,” she said matter-of-factly, and she looked it. She wasn’t happy again but she seemed healthier and more alive, but she didn’t dare tell Sam what she was doing. He was always uneasy about Ed, and she knew he wouldn’t approve. Either jealous or possessive, or overprotective, like a big brother. And he was young, he wouldn’t understand.
She and Ed had been lovers for two and a half months by Thanksgiving, and she felt as though her whole life had changed. He was the most exciting man she had ever known. He still showed up on Page Six occasionally, which he said was to keep people off the scent. He thought they should remain discreet for as long as possible. He said people would be envious of them, and their thirty-year age difference would cause comment and criticism, which he didn’t want to expose her to.
“It doesn’t matter to me at all,” she reassured him. He was so much more exciting than any boy her age.
“One day, I hope we’ll be married, and we won’t have to explain it to anyone,” he said with a hopeful expression.
“Are you really going to get divorced?” She looked impressed. He had mentioned it several times. She didn’t feel guilty because he was so clear that their marriage had been over for years. And the idea of being married to him was exciting and made her feel safe.
“I was going to get divorced anyway. Tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll file.” She felt too young to be married, and she didn’t think it would be proper to marry less than a year after her parents’ deaths, and he agreed when she said it to him. “We’ll talk about it next summer then. I can hardly wait,” he said, pulled her close to him, and kissed her to seal the deal.
She spent Thanksgiving with Sam and his family, while Ed was at his Connecticut home with his. In the December issue of Vogue, there was a handsome photograph of him with Marielle at their country estate, which he said had been taken in the summer before he got involved with Coco. He said they had agreed to the interview to keep up appearances for their children’s sake. The photograph meant nothing, he said, and Coco believed him. She had no reason not to. He had never lied to her. He and her father were both honest men.
Their dinners at La Grenouille became more and more regular. They went to the Italian restaurant often too. He came by frequently at midnight, when he said he couldn’t bear