week.” And then he smiled, “do you suppose lightning would strike if we met on a Tuesday?”
“Do you suppose we should try it?” She felt very bold as she said it. And they both laughed like happy children.
“Let's have lunch tomorrow and find out.” He was smiling as he hadn't in years. She made him feel like a boy, and there was something about him that made her feel happy and peaceful.
“Do you suppose we should?” She wanted to feel guilty, but oddly enough she didn't. She had the odd feeling that Simon would have understood it.
“Tomorrow at one o'clock?”
“Make it noon.” Her hand trembled as they hung up. It was a crazy thing to do … and yet, she didn't want to stop. She remembered the touch of his lips on hers in the library that night, and there was something innocent and sweet about it. He was her friend, no matter what happened now. He was someone she could work with and talk to, and spend time with, discussing his business and her children. He listened to her, and he seemed to care about what happened. She wondered if that was wrong but that night, when she slept, she dreamt of Simon, and he was standing next to Paul Kelly, and smiling.
CHAPTER
47
Paul arrived at the store shortly before noon the following day, and found her sitting in her office going over her work with a serious look and a pen stuck in her hair. He knocked softly on the door, and smiled as he opened it and saw her sitting at her desk.
“That's a familiar picture,” he smiled as she looked up at him. “Too busy, Zoya? Should I come back later?”
“No, it's all right. It can wait,” she smiled, enjoying the warmth of their friendship. He had been looking forward to seeing her all day, and he was struck again when she stood up and went to get her handbag by how lovely she was. She was still a remarkably beautiful woman.
“Rough day?” he asked, with his warm Irish smile.
“Not as rough as it could be.” Her smile answered his, pleased that he had come to see her. It was easier meeting him here than in Simon's office. This was her turf, not his, and it allowed Paul to share her present more than her past, which suddenly seemed more important.
They walked to lunch at “21,” and at three o'clock they were still talking and laughing. Spencer Tracy was at a table nearby, with a woman in a large hat and dark glasses, and Zoya wondered who she was, but Paul wasn't interested in her. He couldn't take his eyes off Zoya.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked finally, her eyes searching his, but comforted by what she saw there. There was only kindness and strength, and all the good feelings he had for Zoya.
“Because I love you,” he said very softly. “I never intended to fall in love with you, but I did. Is that so wrong?” She couldn't tell him that it was, after all she knew of the emptiness of his life with Allison.
“It's not wrong. But, Paul …” She hesitated and then went on,”… what will we have if we indulge ourselves? A few stolen moments from time to time. Is that what you want?”
“If that's all there is, I'll be grateful. To me, they are treasured hours with you, Zoya. The rest is … well, whatever it has to be.” And he instinctively knew that she didn't want more than that from him. She had her children, the store, and her memories of Simon. “I won't ask you for more than that. I don't have a right to. I won't lie to you. Ever. You know that I can't leave Allison, and if what I can give you isn't enough, I'll understand it.” He gently took her hand in his under the table. “Maybe I'm being very selfish.” Zoya shook her head, as near them she saw Spencer Tracy laughing. She wondered again who the woman was and why he looked so happy.
“I'm not sure I'm ready for more than that anyway. I may never be. I loved Simon very much.”
“I know that.”
And then, in a small voice, “But I think I love you too …” It was so odd, she had never expected this, but she liked being with him. She had every Monday, and she had come to rely on him and respect him.