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type of relationship and I wasn’t sure I liked it. But, it was too late and I was too tired to argue so we left the conference room in silence and were waiting for my private elevator when Mark turned to me.
    “Did you mean it? About dinner tomorrow?”
    “Oh, yeah, sure,” I sounded distracted even to myself so it wasn’t any surprise to see his frowning expression when I looked up at him as we stepped into the elevator. “Mark, for heaven’s sake, stop worrying! Tomorrow’s fine! We are fine! Everything is fine !” my voice grew louder as I grew angrier.
    “That’s more like it. Now you sound like yourself again,” he laughed and winked at me ignoring my murderous stare.
    I rolled my eyes but I got the joke and laughed at it before putting my hands on the mirrored wall beside his head and pressing my lower body against his groin. His eyes turned dark and he stopped laughing at once.
    “So, I a m myself only when I’m a bitch. Is that what you mean, pet?”
    Neither one of us spoke but our bodies talked loudly enough. His breathing became heavier, there was a vein throbbing in his neck, and I was sure he could see my nipples pressing my blouse and felt my heart beating fast inside my chest.
    I leaned close r, never letting go of his stare, but stopping my mouth an inch or so before touching his lips. I didn’t want to kiss him because I knew my control was hanging by a thin thread, too. I just wanted to tease him, to give him something to look forward to until our dinner the next night. That’s why I smiled wickedly when the elevator reached the ground level and the beep sounded loud as the door opened.
    “Saved by the bell,” I purred, bit his chin then left the elevator without looking back.
    I took a cab home because my car was in the repair shop. When I got there, I prepared a relaxing bath, with soothing music and candles, because I needed it badly. I had avoided Mark’s questioning but I couldn’t deceive my own conscience. He was absolutely right. I had been acting out of character but I had told him the truth - part of it, anyway. I was exhausted. I didn’t tell him, though, that I was tired because I hadn’t slept well in over a week. And I wasn’t ready to confess to Mark, or to anyone else for that matter, that I wasn’t sleeping well because I had been having strange, sensual dreams about a person I never saw clearly. And not knowing who the person in those dreams was, disturbed me to no end. I stepped into the bathtub, sat down, leaned my head back, closed my eyes and let the hot water caress my skin. I wanted to soak in for a while and not think about anything – no crisis, no clients, no overprotective assistants, no overfriendly receptionists. And I did exactly that for the next twenty minutes.
    After th e bath, I was almost feeling like my old self again. I went to the kitchen, prepared a salad, poured a glass of wine and sat at the counter to eat my dinner. The phone rang halfway through the meal. I checked the number, sighed and rolled my eyes before picking it up.
    “Hey, mom, how are you doing?”
    “Hi, hon. It’s been ages since we last talked. I miss you. Are you all right?”
    “ Yes, I’m great. I’m sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been working longer hours than usual. How are you? Is dad feeling better?’
    “Oh, you know your father! ” she sighed and I went to the living room to get comfortable because I knew it was going to be a long call. “He thinks all doctors are charlatans. I have the hardest time convincing him to take his medication.”
    “Don’t underestimate yourself, mom. He listens to you,” I replied, ignoring the bait she had thrown me.
    If she wanted me to talk to my father, she would have to say it clearly. My mother had played those little games all my life. She seldom asked me anything directly, then, when I got angry and accused her of trying to manipulate me, she would be offended and say she didn’t know how to talk to me because she