Accidental Tryst Read online

  Too often, she’d be cooped up in the house with the boys and be so excited to have Mac home so they could go out for dinner and a movie. She’d ask and he’d say, I eat out all the time, Ang. The last thing I want is to eat out in restaurants.

  At some point in the last two years, Angie had quit asking and turned into herself. She found things that interested her. Not other men, although she’d had offers. She read more, spent more time shopping or meeting up with friends. She learned about Netflix and how all those wonderful shows she’d missed the first time around were now available at the push of a button. She was pretty good at marathon watching.

  As a public relations exec, she leveraged her degree and steadily grew in her career, aided of course because she poured more into her work. The boys’ lives, too. The good news was the boys thrived on the attention. Grades went up as did their social skills.

  The bad news was Angie only felt more alone. She’d gained weight, and unless she was reading a steamy romance, had no interest in sex.

  Since Mac’s promotion six months ago, he was no longer traveling, and consequently, he spent more time at home. She hoped that would change things, bring them closer together. But the more time together only made them quarrel more often. He started to pick at her daily activities more, how it was too expensive, or pointing out all the things she hadn’t done yet. And ignored everything she had done already.

  She sighed as she scrubbed the shampoo out of her shoulder-length hair.

  All of this reminiscing made her recall Mac’s thirst for life that had invigorated her. Their trips before the kids were born. Her first time snow skiing had been with Mac. Together they were a force. He made her feel alive, and as a team they were unstoppable. She missed feeling that way. Feeling passionate. She missed what she and Mac once had. A stab of pain hit her heart, crippling her with sadness. Like she was mourning his death. In fact, she was mourning the loss of an amazing relationship.

  Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She quickly doused her entire face under the spray and rinsed. She needed to get her ass in gear and get to work.

  Enough feeling sorry for yourself, Angie.

  Mac drove to work as he had done since receiving his promotion to Chief Marketing Officer six months back. Only this time, his hands gripped the car’s steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

  Dammit! Angie brought out a side in him he was not proud of. Mac generally maintained a level head and an even temper. Today that would be a challenge for him to manage.

  What the hell happened last night?

  Sex had been tapering between them over the past few years. Mac realized that happened with most married couples; it’s to be expected. He’d believed, incorrectly it seems, that Angie was still relatively happy with their sex life. He would prefer having more sex, but took care of matters himself regularly to keep from constantly wanting to jump her. When they made love, he would have bet that she reached orgasm.

  After last night, he wasn’t so sure. And the thought ate at him. Why hadn’t she said anything?

  Stopped at a light, he ran his hand over his face and along his jawline. Thinking about it more, their relationship had changed over the years, and not in a positive way. They fought more than they ever had, and even as they tried to shield it from the boys, their sons knew what was going on. Once, Mac had come home to a note left on the counter, a report from a parent-teacher conference. It seemed Robbie had made some inappropriate comments—comments that Mac himself had spoken.

  Mac hated arguing with Angie.

  Shit!

  How could he fix this?

  Chapter Three

  Angie arrived to work on time, thankfully, and was immediately met with the smell of donuts. She opened the desk drawer of her over-size cubicle and put away her purse. The cubicles were temporary until the fifth floor offices were finished with the remodeling.

  “Morning, sunshine,” Nicole greeted her from over their shared cubicle wall. Nicole was the quintessential morning person—up by four most mornings, ready to tackle the world. Of course, by eight at night her friend and coworker was useless.

  Angie smiled to herself remembering how she’d learned that interesting fact years ago when they’d all gone out for drinks one night after work. Nicole practically needed to be carried home at the end of the evening—not drunk, but tired.

  “Morning. Do I smell donuts?” she asked.

  “Yup. Tina’s birthday is today. She’s not here yet. Quick, sign the card.” Nicole handed over a cheery card in a peach envelope.

  “I completely forgot. I’m so glad you remembered. Thanks, Nicci.” She signed with a flourish and returned the card to her friend.

  “You alright? You seem a little off today.”

  If anyone would notice something was off, it would be Nicole. She had a sixth sense about people. In addition to the two of them being friends for years, not much got past her.

  “I had a rough sleep. Nothing more coffee can’t fix, I’m sure.”

  “Hmm. Let’s go out to lunch today.”

  “Sure. And keep those donuts away from me. I don’t need the calories.”

  Nicole chuckled and spun around, returning to her work.

  The morning flew by. Angie worked public relations for a high-end women’s clothing boutique company called l’Amour Lux. The Dallas-based company owned more than a hundred stores throughout the US and Canada. The plans for next quarter called for testing a handful of stores with a men’s line. The buzz in the industry thus far was mixed. Some critics believed l’Amour could pull it off, others seemed less certain.

  Angie had her work cut out for her. For the past several months, she’d met with designers, buyers, merchandisers, sales managers, and of course the executives of l’Amour. The official press release wouldn’t go out for another thirty days, but anyone who might be quoted in a paper, magazine, or website about the move would need to be coached.

  Angie also needed to prep the executives who would be hosting the press conference. She rolled her eyes at that thought. When l’Amour did something, they went big. She recalled the time they’d expanded into Canada. The company president, Pierre Jarmon, a five-nine, French fireball, wanted as much fanfare, hype, and drama over the event as possible. The company hosted a “launch party” at the Ritz-Carlton in Toronto. Angie used every persuasion technique she could comfortably use to convince Pierre not to have the city close down the street in front of the hotel.

  She still chuckled over Pierre’s disappointment. But Angelique, this is the event of the century. There will be hundreds of people at la partie, and thousands trying to crash it. Beyoncé et Jay Z will be there.

  Nicci’s voice broke through Angie’s thoughts. “Ready for some lunch?”

  Angie glanced at her watch. Where did the time go? “Yeah, let me save this doc and we’ll take off.”

  Nicole had been a long-time friend of Angie’s since two jobs prior. In fact, Angie had been instrumental in getting Nicole a job with l’Amour. Nicole worked in operations while Angie managed a team of four people in public relations; however, they ultimately reported up through the same channel. Over the years they’d grown as close as sisters.

  They stepped outside in the Texas heat, although September was the beginning of the cool down, and Angie slipped on her sunglasses. She and Nicole strolled to the sandwich shop two blocks east of their building.

  They ordered and took a seat as they waited for their number to be called.

  “So, why do you seem a little down? You and Mac have another fight?” Nicole started.

  Angie sighed. “No, not exactly, although he was giving me the passive-aggressive treatment this morning, barely speaking to me.”

  “What happened?”

  She bit her lip between her teeth. “I might have said something that offended him.”

  Right then, their number was announced and Nicole popped up to retrieve their tray of food.

  Placing their plates down, then
taking a seat, Nicole asked, “What did you say?”

  “We were having sex last night—”

  “Good for you,” Nicole interjected.

  Angie gave a half-smile. “My mind wandered . . . to my to-do list and groceries, and I think I said something out loud.”

  Nicole raised her eyebrows.

  “I may have said ‘how much longer.’”

  “Oh, shit.” Nicole’s face fell. Nicci was a realistic optimist. She usually wore a smile on her face, and her laughter always caused her hazel eyes to crinkle at the corners. Some people claimed she could be mistaken for Sela Ward.

  “Yeah. Ya got that right.” Angie took a bite of her turkey and avocado sandwich. “It just came out. Of course, he didn’t get to come, but neither did I,” she whispered.

  “You were bored. You need excitement, Angie.”

  “I know,” she shook her head in shame.

  “Baby, have you told him what you like? What turns you on and makes you come?”

  This wasn’t the first time they’d had an intimate conversation out in public like this, and Angie was eternally grateful for the noise in the restaurant so they couldn’t be overheard.

  “Yes, but I don’t think it registers. I don’t know, I guess I’m not comfortable talking about it. Now, I’m to the point where I just want to get it over with. Get in, get out, be done.”

  Nicole gave her a breathy laugh. “This isn’t your well-woman checkup.”

  Angie shrugged a shoulder, and swallowed hard before leaning closer to Nicole. “It’s not the same as it once was, Nicci. I almost wonder why we’re together. I think Mac and I have grown apart.”

  Nicci set down her glass of iced tea. “You’re not thinking about leaving him, are you?”

  Angie’s eyes rounded. “I don’t know.” She exhaled. “No, I actually haven’t thought about it until this very moment.”

  “Have you thought about seeing a counselor?”

  “I brought it up to Mac once. You know him. ‘I’m too busy to meet with some shrink.’” He was the epitome of stubborn.

  “Maybe you should go. By yourself.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” she nodded slightly, picking a tiny morsel of meat off her plate. “This morning, I looked at him dressing for work, and do you know what I thought? Nothing about how handsome or sexy he was, nothing about any kind of affection for him. I felt angry at him. Angry for missing our sons’ parent-teacher conferences again. Angry for yelling at me over his damn dry cleaning.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  Angie looked up from her half-eaten sandwich. Mac put work before her, took her for granted, and seemed to find giving her what she wanted in the relationship a challenge. But even still, she could only think of him as her husband. “I do. I don’t like him sometimes, but I still love him.”

  “Well, there’s your answer.” Nicole cupped her hand over Angie’s. “There is enough there to salvage. To build on. Going by yourself, it may just take longer, but you can do this. Y’all have been together for twenty years. Don’t throw it all away until you’ve exhausted all your possibilities.”

  Angie nodded and gave a shy smile. She didn’t want to leave Mac, and Nicole had some great points. Definitely something she would need to sleep on.

  Nicole’s advice had always been spot-on. Nicole was just a year older than Angie at forty-five, married to the same man for almost twenty years, and had a wealth of wisdom. The difference was she and her husband had a more laid-back relationship than Angie and Mac. They rarely argued. They were “peas n’ carrots” while she and Mac were more “oil and water.”

  She’d think more on it later—right now, she had to wrap up work and get to the dry cleaners.

  Mac took a seat across from the president and CEO of Frisco Snack Company, Raymond Criswell, in the executive lunchroom. The lunchroom was more like a restaurant, one floor below Mac’s office. They served breakfast and lunch, and upon request, could have dinner available. As convenient as it was, he usually appreciated getting away, even if he ate by himself.

  Mac had a feeling this wouldn’t be a short lunch when he noticed George from R&D already seated at the table.

  “George. Ray,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Hey, Mac.”

  “Mac. George. I brought you both here to review the plan for wrapping up the quarter,” Ray started.

  Mac nearly groaned. Hadn’t it been discussed to death? Numbers were down year-over-year, but with some new additions to their healthy snack line, projections showed to finish the year up.

  The trio ordered from the waitress, then Ray opened a spreadsheet on his tablet and continued, “I like the numbers from the recent test marketing of the new baked potato chip products. Mac, we discussed expanded distribution, and this is just the kind of product to finally get us into Mama Oats and Freshie’s grocery stores. How are we looking on that front?”

  “I’ve got sales teams calling on both of those chains. They are excited and committed to carrying the products in select stores in the hopes of a rollout nationwide. I expect purchase orders within the next three or four weeks.”

  Mac knew his numbers. Frisco would have their new products in other health food stores as well as conventional stores. He knew what advertising dollars were needed to launch the new products, how many stores they’d be in, and the approximate revenue the new products would generate before year-end. He knew the manufacturing costs, too. The rising costs worried Mac, and why the VP of Manufacturing wasn’t at that meeting surprised and disappointed Mac.

  “And you think this rollout will provide enough bump to grow the bottom line? Wall Street will be looking for that.”

  “I do.” Mac nodded once. “I’m meeting with Camille later today to review the projections. We could expect a four or five percent bump over last year.”

  Camille Ferguson, the Chief Financial Officer, was the reason Mac had to work late tonight. She’d told him she was booked and after hours was her only availability this week. Of course, after last night and the morning he had, Mac wasn’t anxious to get home.

  “Great,” and as if sensing his earlier question, Ray answered it. “Unfortunately, Will couldn’t be here to address the manufacturing cost projections. I’ll be meeting with him tomorrow morning first thing,” his lips thinned, “and we can see what’s going on over there.”

  Ray flipped the page and brought out another sheet with notes printed on it. “Now, George, let’s review the five new products and the plans for follow-on products into next year.”

  Mac’s mind wandered as he dug into his salad. Truthfully, he may have been in no rush to get home, but it was unavoidable. He would need to face Angie sometime. He was angry, but mostly disappointed, but hell if he knew what he was going to say.

  Chapter Four

  Angie hung the dry cleaning in the closet, and went to the kitchen to start dinner. She had about an hour before picking up Stuart from football practice.

  Thirty minutes later, she had dinner ready. “Robbie!” she called, and he scampered down the stairs. Without being told, he washed his hands and set the table for four.

  “Dad’s working late, so it’s you and me, kid,” she said placing two full plates of spaghetti down.

  Robbie dug in immediately. Angie smiled to herself. Robbie had his dad’s eyes and nose, and no doubt, with his voracious appetite, would be tall like Mac. “Did you get yourself a snack after school?”

  “Yeah,” Robbie said, not stopping to let conversation interfere with eating.

  “So, what happened in school today?”

  He paused with his fork midway to his mouth. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brows knitted together.

  She looked across the table. “I just meant, how is school? Anything interesting going on?”

  “Nah. Nothing really. Got an A on my math quiz. It was mostly review stuff from last year,” he managed to get out in between forkfuls of pasta.

  “Excellent. How was English
today?”

  “Good. We had a sub,” he smiled indulgently.

  She rolled her eyes at him. Robbie didn’t seem to be too impressed with his English teacher. He thought Mrs. Farmer was tougher on the boy students than she was on the girls. Considering they were in the first few weeks of school yet, this was something Angie wanted to keep an eye on, if only to be a sounding-board for Robbie’s frustrations.

  “Okay, so how much more homework do you have?”

  “Not too much,” he replied, “but I need to study for a science quiz tomorrow.”

  He’d nearly finished his dinner, while Angie was only halfway through. “Do you want more?”

  “No, I’m good. I’m going back upstairs.” He stood and stacked his plate and fork in the dishwasher. “I’ll have dessert later.”

  “I’m leaving in about fifteen minutes to pick up Stuart. Your dad should be home at any time,” she called after him.

  “Okay.”

  Having said the words aloud, she couldn’t say for sure when Mac would be home. In the six months since his promotion, he didn’t work late many nights, so she didn’t have much history to go on. She paused her chewing. Is he really working late?

  She truly didn’t believe Mac would cheat on her, but they said most women missed the signs. Either that or they chose not to see them. Angie felt her lip tremble.

  In all their years together, she’d never suspected infidelity. But honestly, Mac was a good-looking man. She’d always known that. And at forty-six, he looked better than ever.

  Angie had been hit on before. What was the chance Mac had been hit on too? Maybe by some woman he worked with? Very likely. And what was the chance he flirted back?

  Was it possible he, like her, was having obligatory sex at home, but exploring his wild and crazy side with another woman?