Cathy sat very still, her heart thumping. He was actually waiting on the other end. “He’s waiting for me to reply.” Her gaze dropped to the unopened bills that she had just carried in and added to the others already stacked so neatly on the desk. The monstrous totals kept ratcheting up, growing like black fungus to choke her.
Blinding rage burst inside her. With a violent sweep of her arm, envelopes and papers flew, pitching across the thin carpet. Her chest felt squeezed under a familiar, relentless pressure. Her breath came ragged and hard. Hot tears scalded her eyes and slid down her face.
She knew to a penny what was in her checking account and what she could expect to be there on payday at the end of the month. No matter how she economized and scrimped and reworked the numbers, those figures weren’t going to change. And now that the health insurance company had politely declined to consider future claims, the situation could scarcely be considered to be looking up.
A Benjamin a day. It whispered across her mind. Where else could she get that? For what was essentially a part-time job?
Her fingers flew across the keys. Almost savagely, she pressed send. She read the instant reply. Then she stood up. She just had time to shower and change. As Cathy walked out of the room, she wondered what a whore wore to dinner at an upscale restaurant.
Chapter Two
She chose a blue silk shell and a cream pencil skirt. There was a jacket that went with the outfit, but she left it at home. After debating with herself, she had finally decided that the jacket made her look too professional.
Cathy walked into the restaurant, still uncertain about her attire. She reminded herself that she was not going in to work. Suddenly, she realized the idiocy of what she was thinking. A bubble of almost hysterical laughter rose in her throat. Actually, she was going in to work, or at least she was interviewing for the position. Oh God, the position! She almost lost it then. Hiccoughing, she asked the seating hostess to direct her to the ladies’ room.
Ducking into the safety of the bathroom, Cathy clutched her midriff. Spurts of choked-back giggles escaped her. She was hysterical. She was seriously undone. “Get hold of yourself, girl!”
When Cathy could finally control her attack of nerves, she studied her white, scared face in the mirror. She couldn’t put off the inevitable forever. She had a decision to make. When she went back through that door, she could walk out of the restaurant and go home, or she could keep her appointment with the stranger known to her only as Michael.
Cathy left the restroom. Her whole body quivered. It would be better if she left. But her feet didn’t carry her safely away. Instead, she approached the seating hostess.
“This way, ma’am.”
“All right.”
She saw Michael in the same instant that he looked up. There was a flash of something in his expression. He rose to his feet, waiting for her. All too soon, she found herself pausing beside the table, looking at the man that she had come to meet.
He pulled out the chair for her and politely waited until she was seated before he went back around to his own seat. Across the white linen-covered tabletop, he gazed at her with an expression that she couldn’t read. Cathy nervously touched her hair, wondering whether she had made a mistake in leaving it down. Her hair was an unruly riot of curls. She usually pulled it back in a confining chignon. That’s how it had been when they had last met. Perhaps she did not look sophisticated enough now.
“You are a lovely woman.”
Cathy flushed. She didn’t know what to say or where to look. She was saved from having to respond when the waiter arrived to inform them of the chef’s featured entrees and the recommended wines for that evening. Entrée and wine selections were swiftly made. Then she and Michael were left alone again. Cathy still couldn’t quite meet his eyes.