I could not look at him while I told tale of idiocy. That mistake shamed me. I did not want to see his look change from companionate interest to hard ...ccusation, the accusation that I should have known better than to let a man walk all over me. He could be looking at me as if I were an easy target, a woman easily tricked into bed. Gathering what little courage I scraped together, I looked up. It was not what I thought at all. He was glaring at his food, fork held tightly in his hand, as if it. I was willing to bet she had already done it but wouldn't mention a word to me until I saw it myself. I pictured her going through my drawers fingering every piece of my silk French undies and inhaling them to see any had my scent on it. I rather liked that picture in my mind and I had no idea why in the slightest. I think it was because I felt comfortable with Marcie and could lay next to her on the sofa for hours on end just watching television or talking about what went on at work. I had. More

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