The house looks different, now that most of the furniture and décor is gone. It's lifeless and dead, and I wonder if seeing it like this makes it harder or easier for Calder to say goodbye.He takes me straight to the gallery. This room, with its high, empty walls, looks even more desolate than the rest of the house. The ornate wallpaper has faded in patches, and it's clear that some of the artwork was here for years and years.There's only one painting now, and it's leaning against the wall about halfway down the room. When we get closer, I see it's the Ludlam piece I admired the last time I was here."I didn't let them sell this one," Calder says. "I want you to have it."I gape at him. "I - I can't accept this.""You can. I see the way you look at it. You love this painting, more than anyone who might buy it. It's yours.""Calder, I - ""If you won't take it now, then I'll keep it with me until you're ready to take it. I'm not selling it. It belongs to you."My eyes start to

I've only been to a few nice restaurants in my life. And by a "few" I mean, quite literally, two or three. Fine dining isn't exactly a priority when you're living off of the salary I am, but I've treated myself once or twice, when the occasion has called for it.But Ventine's makes all those other restaurants look like those cheap family chains - you know, the ones that offer "Two For" Tuesdays and $6 pitchers of margaritas on Ladies' Night. Ventine's is swanky with a capital "S." White linens, silver fixtures, soft golden light designed to arouse all sorts of appetites. The walls are covered in dark, glossy wood paneling, and there's a long, marble bar backed by a mirror with silver filigree along the edges.It's the grand opening, so the crowd is chic and lively and well dressed. I feel a little out of place among these people, even though I'm sure none of them will spare me a second glance. My dress might have come from a department store, but it's as sleek and classic as anything

I sense that something is wrong the minute Calder picks me up for our date.He arrives at three o'clock on the dot, and in his jeans and fitted charcoal sweater he looks so sexy that I'm tempted to drag him into my apartment and jump him right there. He gives me a devilish smile and kisses me, but the minute I slip my hands beneath his shirt, he pulls away and teasingly shakes his head."A little eager, aren't we?" he says, his eyes gleaming. That's when I see it: a flash of something across his expression. It's gone before I can give it a name - regret? Sorrow? Guilt? - but whatever it is, I know that there's something, some worry, still lingering in his mind.He doesn't want me to know. He smiles and touches me and pretends that nothing's wrong, and for the moment, I let him.He takes me to a local park."It's nothing fancy," he says. "But my father used to bring my sister and me here when we were younger. I always thought it was beautiful." He sounds almost apologetic, and I re

I can't believe I just did that.One final shiver of pleasure ripples through me as I stand up. I take a deep breath and move on shaky legs to my door before stumbling down the hall to the bathroom.That went even better than expected. I know I should feel ashamed, or at least a little embarrassed, but I don't. I feel completely victorious.Well, okay - not completely victorious. Calder hit me by surprise with that one. I should have seen it coming. I know from experience that he plays dirty.But for a minute, I felt like us again. There was no weird tension, no stress or secrets or scandals. Just us, without the rest of the world. I couldn't see Calder's face, but I heard his voice and I know he felt it too.I lean over the sink and splash water on my cheeks. My skin is still flushed, but there's not much I can do about that. I can, however, pull off my panties, which are uncomfortably wet at this point.As I clean myself up, I start thinking about what I'm going to ask him to d

Where did everything go wrong?When Calder met me at the door, he grabbed me as if he couldn't bear to be away from me for a moment longer. Hell, we got so caught up in each other that we literally set the kitchen on fire. It was only a few days ago that he confessed he needed me. What's changed? Or has the guilt been there all along, just carefully hidden away?I'm a mess at work the next day. I do my best to avoid both Morgan and my dad because I can't bear for either of them to see me like this. I spend the better part of the day out of my office, doing inventory in the supply room. That way, when I inevitably find my eyes welling up again, there's no one there to see.I'm completely pathetic.I grab a box of crayons from the nearest shelf and hurl it across the supply room. It hits something and the cardboard box splits open, spilling crayons everywhere."Fuck him!" I say, throwing another box, then another. "Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him!"This time I don't pay attention to w