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don’t,” she replied. “I
should but I’m not.”
    “I’m
not worried about that. I didn’t think you would.”
    Lindsay
shook her head. “What makes you so sure?”
    “I
don’t know.” Ron grew quiet for a moment. “I just somehow don’t think you’re
that type of person.”
    “You
don’t know anything about me,” Lindsay said, her voice edged with sadness.
Suddenly she felt very alone and very lonely. She could have been talking to
anyone – her friends, her parents, Clara Faircloth, anyone. Did anyone
really know her, know the deep secret she’d been harboring for as long as she
could remember?
    “I
think I do.” His voice was patient and somehow comforting. Outside thunder
crashed and Lindsay pulled her knees up to her chest, fresh tears falling from
her eyes.
    She
wiped them away. “Yeah?” she asked, laughing through them.
    “I
think so.” He paused again. “Can I come up?”
    “Come
up?”
    Lindsay
stood, feeling her heart beginning to race. No, he couldn’t possibly… .She walked through the apartment to the front and looked
out from between the curtains, her eyes widening at what she saw. Ron Sharp was
standing out on the sidewalk in front of her apartment, looking up at her from
beneath his tilted umbrella. A cell phone was to his ear.
    “My
address is unlisted,” she said.
    “Yeah?
Well, given the price of gas, cabbies are pretty easy to bribe these days.”
    Lindsay
put a finger to her temple. Her mind was racing. Should she let him in? She
didn’t really know. The practical side of her said it was lunacy to do it. He
was her enemy, her nemesis, her rival. Less than an
hour ago he’d upended her over his knee during an argument and spanked her to
tears. And now he wanted to come up and see her, and this on the heels of a
claim of some Higher Understanding?
    She
put the tip of her finger in her mouth and chewed on her nail for a moment. She
was a mess. Her makeup was still streaked from where she’d been crying. Her wet
things were still by the door – no doubt sitting in a puddle at this
point. She was in no condition to receive company, especially Ron Sharp’s.
    Lindsay
peeked out through the blinds again. He was still standing there. He was till
looking in the direction of her window.
    She
took a deep breath. “OK” she said. “Come on up.”
     
     
     

 
     
     
    Chapter
Four
     
     
     
    Her
hand was shaking as she opened the door and for a moment they both stood there,
looking at one another. Ron was breathing heavily, his face a mask of regret.
Lindsay did not need to look in the hallway mirror to know that she looked
small and confused.
    She
stepped aside and waved towards the interior of the apartment. “Come in.”
    Ron
stepped inside and put his dripping umbrella beside hers.
    “You
can put your coat here,” she said, indicating the rack where she was now
hanging her own wet things to dry. Ron took his coat off and hung it up and
when he saw her reaching for his sodden umbrella moved to take it from her.
    “No,
I’ll .. ” he began.
    “It’s
fine,” she said, moving it out of reach without looking at him. He didn’t
argue.
    There
was another moment of silence as she absentmindedly smoothed the coats.
    “I
suppose we could talk in the living room,” she said. “And I suppose I should
offer you a drink although it doesn’t feel quite like the appropriate thing to
do.”
    “You
don’t have to offer me anything,” he said. “And if anyone should be feeling
awkward about doing inappropriate things, it’s me.”
    She
nodded and turned, leading him through the hallway and into the living room
where she motioned to the couch before disappearing into the kitchen. Ron sat
down, looking around at the tidy room with its floor to ceiling windows.
Outside, rain was sluicing down them, obscuring what he surmised must be a
rather pleasant view of the upscale shops and cafes across the street.
    When
Lindsay came back in she was carrying a tray with a small pot