Chapter 11

The morning sun is just starting to illuminate the eastern sky as McCall drives up to her house. She didn't really mean to sleep at Hunter's house last night, but it was nearly 6:00 a.m. when she woke and quietly snuck out the door. She's debating the practicality of going back to bed for an hour before needing to get ready for work when she turns into her driveway and finds Mitch's car parked in front of her garage.

"Hunter is really sick. I'm sorry; I just don't think I can leave him like this. Go on to dinner without me," she said when she called him from Hunter's condo yesterday evening.

"This dinner is important to me. It's important to me that you be there," Mitch replied, anger building in his tone.

"I know, I'm sorry, but I just can't."

"Can't or won't? I don't understand why Rick needs you there every time he yacks."

"It's more than that, Mitch, and you know it."

"I'm going to be late. I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said and hung up.

McCall had worried at the time what their conversation was going to be like today, but she assumed that she had most of the day to prepare for it. She hated disappointing Mitch. She wanted to be with him last night. She wanted to be at that dinner. But she had made the choice to stay with Hunter, and she would defend that choice. Now, she's not sure at all what awaits her inside.

He's sitting at her kitchen bar when she walks into the house. He looks over his shoulder at her, his hands cupping a coffee mug.

"Hey," she says softly, closing the back door behind her. "What are you doing here?"

He takes a sip of his coffee, looking straight ahead instead of turning to acknowledge her question. Watching him cautiously, she sets her purse on the counter next to him.

"My agent was there with her husband, my editor, a couple of people from the publishing company and their wives. I've been telling everyone about my beautiful fiancé, how she's this amazing woman, how she's my number one fan. What a lucky man I am. And then I have to tell them…what exactly? That she's not coming because her partner is sick? I mean, even you have to admit that sounds like a pretty paltry excuse. I felt like I needed to scream, 'I really am engaged! Really! She really does exist.' But instead I smile and give excuses. 'I'm sorry, everyone, that you don't get to meet her tonight.' And, 'Yes, yes, she and her partner are close,' I say when they look at me a little weird. But, hey," he says, shrugging a shoulder, still not looking at her, "one of the publisher's wives is an oncology nurse, and she thinks you are a saint for standing by your partner during his chemo. So maybe, I start thinking, maybe I'm being too hard on you.

"When I left the restaurant last night I couldn't wait to tell you about it." He turns his head and makes eye contact with her at last. "Sam, one of the publishing guys, said he's never been more excited about a historical fiction before. That my book is one of the best he's read."

"That's great!" she says with a smile and affectionately rubs his arm.

He looks down at her hand on his arm for a moment, then turns his attention back to his coffee. "Yeah, yeah it's great. So I drove over here to see you. Only, you weren't here. Certainly, I think, she's going to be home soon. I'll just wait for her."

"I'm sorry. I didn't expect—"

"No, of course you didn't expect to get caught."

"That's not it at all," she responds with an aggravated sigh.

"I wondered for a while if I should call Rick, to make sure everything was all right. But, since he's sick and all, I didn't want to bother him in the middle of the night. Then I started worrying that maybe you'd been in a wreck or something had happened to you. Maybe, I thought, I should call dispatch — maybe you've been called into work. So what was it? What was it that kept you out all night?"

"I just fell asleep. That's all. It was late, and I was so tired I just decided to get a little sleep before driving home."

"So my fiancé stood me up to sleep at another man's house. Does this kind of thing happen often?"

"That's not fair. That's out of context."

"No, no it's not! You give me this bullshit that he's your partner so he doesn't count. He counts, Dee Dee, he counts! And I'm tired of sharing you with Rick!"

"You're not sharing me! I'm engaged to you! I'm planning a wedding and a life with you!"

"Then I need you to be committed to this relationship!"

"What are you saying? That I'm not committed to you? You can't be serious!" She watches his eyes, watches him struggle with what he wants to say next.

"Can you at least tell me that you weren't sleeping in his bed?"

McCall's heart drops to the pit of her stomach as she just stares back at Mitch. Hunter had been sick, and then he slept. She had curled up on the other side of his king-size bed, hugging the edge. There was no touching, not even nearness. Hunter probably didn't even know she was there, the way he fell asleep so quickly and was in the exact same position when she woke hours later. He smelled a little bit as she had sat next him on the floor of his bathroom between bouts of dry heaving, and she didn't feel one ounce of sexiness as she wiped the splattered bacon grease off his stovetop, strands of her hair sticking to her forehead in his stuffy kitchen. If she made a list of the least romantic nights of her life, this one would make the top five. But, she had slept in his bed, with him, and she couldn't lie to Mitch about it. Besides, she had to admit to herself, sex is not the only form of cheating.

Her panic at his question is written all over her face, and Mitch doesn't need her response to know the answer.

"Great! Great!" he exclaims and slams his fists onto the countertop.

"Mitch, please let me explain. It was nothing. I didn't want to leave until I knew he was going to be okay and I fell asleep."

"You were in his bed!" Mitch snarls.

"There is nothing between us! How many different ways do I have to tell you?!"

"You can stop now, because I'm done listening," he says as he reaches for his jacket draped over the back of the sofa.

"Don't leave. C'mon, let's sit down and talk about this."

"I'm done fighting Rick for your attention. I'm done being second in line."

"Don't, please don't leave like this. Let's talk. I'm sorry. I made a mistake, okay. It was all so harmless, really, but if it upsets you I'm sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you. Please. I love you."

"I'm not really sure I believe that right now."

"You're not really going to make choose between you and Rick, are you?"

"The thing is, Dee Dee, I think you already have."

She stands in disbelief as he walks out of her house.

XXXXX

She is two hours late for work when she finally walks into the precinct. Her phone had rung three times, and whether it was Mitch wanting to apologize for over-reacting or Hunter wanting to know where she was, she didn't care. Her disbelief had turned to fear, then to anger and finally to dejection.

She can feel Hunter watching her as she approaches her desk, puts her purse away in a drawer and sits down in her chair. His eyes never turn away from her, and she has no doubt that he is taking in her puffy eyes and pink nose. She attempts to appear focused on getting straight to work, but really her mind is racing and she has no idea what case file she's looking at.

"Is, uh, is everything okay?" he asks tentatively.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

"What happened this morning? What's going on?"

"Nothing. Can we just get to work?" She curses herself when her voice breaks.

He nods his head. "Yeah, we can do that. But I think you look like you could use some pancakes instead. I'm buying."

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry." The tears are right there on the surface, ready to fall again.

"Well, now I'm really worried if you're turning down free food." He gets up from his desk and walks around to sit on the edge of her desk next to her. "But I know you can't turn down coffee. Let's get outta here so you can tell me why you're crying."

...to be continued...