80

Nate sat in his den, his hand on the phone, about to pick it up and call Monica. He would tell her that he wanted to go ahead with the sale of her building to her.

He would tell her that she should check her account again, just to make sure she had the funds available, and that’s when she would see that the money was missing. That was when all the work that Nate had done would finally pay off.

He had picked up the phone and punched the first number when there was a knock on his door.

“Yes?” Nate said, mildly annoyed.

“Mr. Kenny,” Mrs. Weatherly said from behind the door. “You have a guest.”

“Who is it?”

“She would not say.”

Nate smiled, setting down the phone. He knew it was Monica. It would be good to see her, even though she had left only two hours ago.

As Nate walked down the hall, he heard Nathaniel laughing, and he figured Monica was playing with his son in the living room. But when Nate entered, he saw that it was not Monica, but Daphanie. Her suitcases were near the front door, and she sat on the sofa, Nathaniel in her arms, tickling him.

Nate was shocked to see her there, for she hadn’t called to let him know she’d be coming home early.

But as he walked closer to her, he remembered she had called, a number of times. He was just so caught up with Monica that he had not bothered to answer or retrieve the messages.

Nate crossed the carpet, wishing he could have appreciated just how good she looked. Her hair was cut into a slightly different style. Her brown strands were now highlighted with blonde streaks, and she wore a pale pink outfit Nate had never seen. She looked rested, her skin almost glowed as though the time away rejuvenated her.

“Hey! Surprise, surprise,” Nate said, trying to seem enthused about her early arrival, as he walked to her, his arms open.

Daphanie hoisted Nathaniel off her lap, and stood. She wrapped her arms around Nate, hugged him tight, and kissed him on the cheek. “I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Did you get my messages?”

Nate paused for a moment, something not seeming right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, so he said, “I’m sorry. I was so caught up with this client that—”

“I know. With Mr. Nate, business always comes first,” Daphanie said, smiling. But Nate knew the smile wasn’t a sincere one. He could tell something was bothering her.

“Well, are you hungry? Do you want to go out and get some lunch?”

“McDonald’s!” Nathaniel said.

“No. I’m fine,” Daphanie said. “Just a little thirsty.”

“There’s cranberry, orange juice, some punch in the fridge. Or were you talking about something a little stronger?”

“Just some water, please.”

“Coming right up,” Nate said. As he walked toward the kitchen, he glanced back at Daphanie, saw her rubbing her temples as though something was really bothering her.

Nate poured some cold water into a glass, and just stood there beside the fridge, trying to put his finger on what was giving him such a weird feeling. He thought back to the moment he had hugged her, then he realized—no! She couldn’t have.

All of a sudden Nate’s knees felt weak. That couldn’t have been the case, Nate told himself. He must be wrong. He knew there was only one way to find out.

Nate walked quietly back into the living room, stood before Daphanie with the water. She had not even recognized him there, she was so caught up in what seemed to be bothering her.

“Daphanie, baby. Your water.”

She looked up at Nate with what he read to be a sad, accusatory expression on his face.

“I don’t think I want the water,” Daphanie said. “I just want to go upstairs, shower, and take a nap.”

And that’s when Nate realized he had smelled the perfume she was wearing now. It was different from what she always wore, a fragrance she had probably bought in England, the same scent that he had smelled on the woman from his dream last night.

Daphanie walked slowly toward the stairs.

“It wasn’t a dream, was it?” Nate said. “It was really you. You were here.”

Daphanie turned around, her face wet with tears.