"You’re Kelsey Stanton, aren’t you?"

"Last time I got my driver’s license that’s what they told me." I smile back.

"I hope you don’t mind, I just wanted to tell you that I unh…well," she takes a deep breath and shakes her head a bit, "I really admire the work you do."

"Thank you. I appreciate that. We do try."

"You manage to get yourself in some pretty interesting situations."

Oh, if you only knew.

"Yeah, well, my field director/shooter has a real knack for getting us into trouble." I can’t help but laugh a little, as my mind runs quickly through all the stories Harper and I have done in just over two months together.

"Do you enjoy it? Doing those kinds of stories would scare me senseless."

"I don’t know if enjoy is the right word. I always enjoy living through them. Are you in the field?"

"Oh no, not me." She shakes her head again as she extends her hand. "I’m sorry, I’m Susan Hamilton." She has soft hands, but a firm grip. "I’m a doctor. Pediatrician."

"Nice to meet you." Very nice, actually.

I notice she holds my hand just a tick longer than necessary, before releasing it and gripping the rails of the treadmill. I recognize that white-knuckle death grip.

Four minutes left.

I’m not sure why my hand reaches out and adds another ten minutes, but it does. Oh hell, I know perfectly well why I did it.

Have I lost my mind? I’m imagining things here, most likely. I do not need to get laid that badly.

Like hell I don’t. I was willing to sleep with Harper. This can’t be any worse.

I spend another few minutes chatting with her and trying to get a better feel for my chances here. God, it’s been a long time since I’ve done this. But you know some of the things that Harper said in Omaha made sense. How long can I go on fooling myself?

My extra ten minutes pass pretty quickly. I step off, taking my towel and wiping down my face and neck, and I head over to the juice bar for a bottle of water. As I take a seat, I continue to watch her in the mirror. I notice she’s glancing my direction with a little grin too. This could be good.

Susan and I end up having breakfast together. She is absolutely delightful. I really enjoying talking with a normal, sane, rational human being.

Funny, I didn’t notice before, she has blue eyes. I shake my head as an image starts to take form. No. I refuse to let this be ruined by her.

"Listen." I put my mug down and hope I’m not about to make a complete fool of myself here. I lean forward a bit, resting my elbows on the table. "I have tickets to the symphony tonight. If you’re not busy…"

"I’d love too," she answers before I can even finish the sentence. "Maybe dinner before or drinks after? Or both, if we’re feeling daring."

"That would be very nice. Can I pick you up or would you rather meet somewhere?"

She reaches for her purse, pulling out a card and writing her home number and address on the back. "What time is the concert?" she asks as she hands me the card.

"I’m not sure. To be honest, I hadn’t planned on actually using the tickets."

"Well, tell you what," she says as she pulls her purse strap over her shoulder. "Why don’t you check and give me a call and we’ll go from there? My cell phone number is on the front."

"Great. I’ll talk to you soon."

"I’m looking forward to it, Kelsey." She gives me a wave as she heads out of the restaurant.

I flip the card slowly in my fingers after she’s left. It’s clearly her business card, giving the address of her practice and the names of the other pediatricians there. The back of the card is written in bold strokes, indicating a strong hand. I like strong hands.

Now I have to go buy symphony tickets. I sure hope they’re in town.


* * *

Dinner was very nice. The symphony was terrific. Drinks at the bar after were even better, but the bottle of wine we’re sharing now is the absolute best part of my evening. Even sitting, as we are, on opposites ends of my couch, talking and sipping the wine, this is the most relaxed I’ve been in weeks.

"I really wish you had at least let me buy dinner." Susan smiles at me over the rim of her glass.

"No, no, my treat. I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for coming out with me."

Oh boy, does the meaning of those words buzz around in my head before slamming into the proverbial mental wall.

"It was a wonderful evening, Kelsey." She slides down the sofa closing the distance between us. "Can I ask you a very personal question?"

"Oh, you can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer." I sip my wine.

"Fair enough. Since you didn’t let me buy you dinner, can I at least make you breakfast?" She smiles as she waits for my answer.

She’s not pushing me, but, boy, is she leading me right into temptation.

"Look, Susan, I lead a rather complicated life." I give a little sigh. "And I don’t want you to get the wrong impression here. I have certain commitments and contractual issues…." Why I’m backpedaling now is beyond me. We did just go out on a date, after all, and were seen in public together. What we do here is certainly no worse.

She holds up her hand and nods. "I’m sure of it. I have an idea how the business works, Kelsey. Okay, let me try to simplify your life. I have to be discreet also. My partners wouldn’t think much of this and the parents of my patients would probably think even less. We’re both used to living with secrets so this could be ideal for us. I’m attracted to you. I think you’re attracted to me, and I would very much like to spend the night with you. I’m not asking for a commitment or a long-term relationship. But I do hope to see more of you."

I grin.

"Now that’s not what I meant," she teases as she moves a little closer to me. "It would be nice if we could…."

"I think we both know what you’re trying to say. Let’s not force the issues," I offer, placing my glass on the table then leaning back into the couch. She’s convinced me, but I wasn’t really a hard sell anyway. "We’ll keep it casual, right?"

"Right."

"But in the meantime there’s no reason why we can’t enjoy each other’s company to the absolute fullest."

"Exactly." She leans in and brushes her lips against mine.

Morals clause. What morals clause?


* * *

The buzzer wakes me from a very happy and sound sleep. I feel Susan’s arm wrapped around my waist and her warmth where she is curled up against my back. I know right away that it’s not my alarm. What in the hell is it? Ah hell, it’s the intercom buzzer from the lobby.

I reach out a sleepy hand and hit the button. Thank God, Erik and I had the foresight to have intercoms put in nearly every damn room of the condo. I open my eyes to find that it’s six in the morning. Oh, I’m gonna kill whoever is on the other end of this thing.

"Stanton," I say as I release the button.

"Kels, get your ass out of bed and get ready. We’ve got a story breaking."

Harper. I should have fucking known. If there was a way to ruin my bliss, she would find it. Damn!

I hit the button again as I lift to my elbow. Susan stirs behind me and rolls away with a groan. "I’ll be at least twenty minutes. Go get some coffee and I’ll meet you down front."

"Hell, Kels, be civil and let me come up. I brought you bagels and tea. I need to brief you while you get ready and I drink my coffee."

Oh why the hell not? Maybe it’ll prove to her that Omaha was an aberration.

"All right. Come on up." I release the button and get up.

Susan opens her eyes and smiles at me. "Does this happen often?"

"No, thank God," I growl a little as I pull two terry cloth robes from my closet. I slip into one and put the other on the bed. "You’re welcome to stay and go back to sleep, but if you want to get up at this ungodly hour -" I gesture to the robe.

As I leave my bedroom to go meet Harper, I hear Susan get up. Oh, this should prove to be interesting.

I’m leaning against the wall with my arms crossed as the elevator doors slide open. Harper steps out with two paper bags and a newspaper tucked under her arm. The doors close and Harper’s eyes go very wide, very suddenly. I look over my shoulder to find Susan tying off her robe.

Turning back to Harper with a little smirk, I can’t resist saying, "Hope you brought enough for everyone."


* * *

"I didn’t know we had company," I mutter.

Kelsey arches her eyebrow. "We don’t, Harper. I do."

Yeah, you sure do. My eyes drift over to the open bedroom door. I imagine that I can see the disheveled sheets and smell the scent of sex. It does not improve my mood.

Sex is just sex, right? Lord knows I’ve had my share of fun-filled nights. Hell, I’ve even had more than my share. I was pretty sure up until this moment that I had taken Kelsey’s share.

Apparently not.

"Right," I say. I toss the newspaper on the coffee table and set the bags next to it, unloading the contents onto polished oak.

The other woman steps down into the main living area, smoothing the folds in her robe, and extends a hand towards me. "Hello. I’m Susan," she offers with a genuine smile.

"Harper," I respond. Suddenly, I realize she looks like ...

Well, me.

I should get some perverse pleasure from this, that Kelsey is subconsciously searching for me, but I don’t. It pisses me off instead.

You could have me, Kels. The original is always so much better than a cheap imitation. God, what was the horrible song in the seventies? I know: "Paper roses." It begins playing in my mind, "I realize the way your eyes deceived me, with tender looks that I mistook for love."