Though the offer seemed clear enough, Celeste was sure she’d misheard. “But you know my husband—”
Harriett cocked her head again and grinned. “What does any of this have to do with him?”
Celeste was stunned to find herself unable to answer. Surely, she thought, it had something to do with Andrew. After all, she’d married for love, and that love hadn’t died. She remained fond of her husband. She’d just grown to see romance for what it was—a sappy-sweet fantasy she’d entertained in her youth, like fairies or the Easter Bunny. Though she felt nostalgia for those early days, her marriage had become a financial arrangement. She remained devoted to keeping up her side of the deal. She would ensure that the children were happy and healthy. Their home would continue to run efficiently. For several wonderful years, the agreement had included exclusive access to each other’s bodies. But Celeste’s had come to feel like her own once again.
That’s why she wasn’t hurt by Andrew’s affair, she realized. That’s why she’d never asked her husband who was he seeing after work—or who accompanied him on all his business trips. For a while, she’d wondered if she was afraid to have those questions answered. Now Celeste knew the truth—as long as Andrew upheld his end of the bargain, she just didn’t care. Andrew was her business partner. What Harriett was offering was something quite different.
“I quit the homeowners association,” Celeste informed her husband later that night.
“Oh?” he replied, without looking up from his phone. Now that his salary was in the high six figures, her decisions were of little consequence. “Good for you, darling.”
“I spent some time with Harriett Osborne today.”
That got his attention. “With Harriett? Poor thing. How’s she doing?”
“Well,” Celeste said, “I think she and I are going to hang out more often.”
“Doing what?” His lack of imagination had always amused her.
“Lady things,” Celeste replied with a smile.
“Are you sure she’s not out to—” He stopped. “I mean, do you think she might be—” He was smart enough not to give voice to his hunch—that Harriett was out to get even with him for the job she’d lost. If nothing else, she had to know that befriending his wife would unsettle him. Why else would a woman like Harriett want to spend time with Celeste?
His wife chuckled lightheartedly. “No, Andrew,” she told him. “My relationship with Harriett doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
Hot and Bothered
“Holy shit.” Jo Levison cackled and let her Toyota Highlander slow to a stop. “What the fuck is going on over there?”
“Come on, Jo,” her husband groaned. “Language?”
“That’s nothing,” droned eleven-year-old Lucy from the back seat. “She says way worse when you’re not around.”
“Snitch!” Jo stuck out her tongue at the rearview mirror.
“She’s not the only one,” Art chided their daughter. “I’ve heard you two talking when you think you’re alone. It’s like listening to a couple of Hells Angels.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes fuck is the only word that will do,” Jo said. “You’d know just how appropriate it is in this case if you bothered to put down your fucking phone.”
Art finished what he was typing and peered over the rim of his reading glasses. When he cracked up, Jo had no choice but to join him. His booming laugh was one of the reasons she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. He could be such a prig at times, it was a relief to know he still had a sense of humor.
“What the hell is he doing?”