Second Honeymoon Page 0,27

saxophone. Ted was a huge fan who listened almost religiously to Mulligan’s recordings, especially the live ones. Carnegie Hall, Glasgow, the Village Vanguard.

“Mully’s a god,” he was fond of telling her, usually over their second bottle of Bordeaux, which they shared while hanging out on the couch.

After she’d taken a few more steps down the hallway, Sarah could hear something else. It was running water. Just as she’d thought.

Sure enough, when she reached Ted’s bedroom she could see that the door to his bathroom was closed. He was taking a shower. There was even a little steam slipping out through the bottom of the door.

She smiled. Perfect. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.

The only decision left was when to lose the raincoat.

Sarah quietly opened the bathroom door, then tiptoed in her bare feet across the tile, the steam billowing all around her, thick as a San Francisco fog. Ted liked his showers hot.

Later, she was sure, he’d crack a goofy joke about her making this one even hotter.

Here goes nothing. I can’t believe I’m doing this.

The raincoat dropped to the floor as Sarah opened the fogged-up shower door. She even threw her arms out as if to say, “Ta-da! Here I am!”

Surprise, honey!

Ted was surprised, all right. Incredibly so.

Of course, so was the other woman in the shower with him.

Chapter 36

IT ACTUALLY TOOK a few seconds for it all to sink in for Sarah—a few long, torturous, and utterly humiliating seconds that seemed to last an eternity.

This is really happening, isn’t it? And I’m standing here buck naked to boot.

“Sarah, wait!” said Ted.

But she wasn’t about to wait. Who would? Sarah scooped up her raincoat, hastily gathering it to her chest before running out of the bathroom. As if the situation couldn’t get worse, she slipped on the wet tile, nearly falling, twisting an ankle.

“Damn you, Ted!”

Ted’s bedroom was a blur as she hobbled through it, but even so she still caught the clues she’d somehow overlooked. The indentations on not one but two pillows on top of the unmade bed. The two wineglasses on the table next to it. Was it a Bordeaux, you prick? How did she not see any of it?

She already knew why. Because she’d trusted him.

There was a part of her that wanted to turn back, to have it out with Ted right there in front of the “other woman,” whoever the hell she was.

But that part of her stood no chance against the unbearable pain she was feeling. In those few seconds standing almost paralyzed in front of the shower, she’d surrendered to her instincts, and those instincts had told her to run. Flee! Scram! Get outta there! She couldn’t help it.

And that stung Sarah even more.

At work she always managed to garner the courage, the moxie, the balls to stand her ground no matter what the situation. But here—not wearing her badge, not wearing anything—she could only run. She felt helpless, ridiculous, and ashamed.

“Sarah, stop! Please!” Ted called out. He was behind her now, racing to catch up while tying a towel around his waist. He was dripping wet.

Sarah stopped in the foyer. She didn’t want this playing out beyond his apartment and possibly in front of a neighbor. Besides, she still had only the raincoat pressed against her body.

“Turn around,” she said.

Ted blinked, confused. “What?”

She glanced down at herself. He wasn’t about to see her naked, not now. Not ever again.

He got it. “Oh.”

Sarah put on the raincoat while Ted faced the other way. “I just want to explain,” he said over his shoulder.

“Explain? What’s there to explain? You made a big mistake and I made an even bigger one by thinking you were different from every other player in D.C.”

He turned back around. “I’m not a player, Sarah. What are you even doing here? You should’ve told me you were coming home.”

“Why? So you could keep lying to me?”

“I never actually lied.”

“This isn’t a courtroom, Ted. You’re not a lawyer right now.”

“I could say the same for you.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“It means you never stop being who you are.”

“Is that what this is about? My job? You should’ve told me if you had a problem with my being an agent.”

“I didn’t think I did,” he said.

“So the girl in the shower, what does she do?”

He didn’t want to answer, but Sarah stared at him until he finally did.

“She works in my office,” he said.

“Is she another attorney?” But Sarah knew she wasn’t.

“She’s a paralegal,” he