The Friends We Keep by Holly Chamberlin Page B

might not have been skilled at the game of friendship, but I wasn’t ignorant of its general rules and regulations. My renewed friendship with Sophie was at risk should I get involved with Jake. Of course, if we kept our affair a deep, dark, secret, all might still be well. But if Sophie should ever find out what we’d been up to, I knew I could wave good-bye to the friendship.
    The friendship I still wasn’t sure I wanted.
    â€œYou’re a man of considerable charms, Jake Holmes,” I said. I wondered if my voice betrayed the dizzying effect his touch was having on my body.
    Jake ran a finger down the length of my thigh. “I know,” he said.

21

    If you want to suffer killing pangs of remorse, unceasing paranoia, and deep feelings of self-loathing, go ahead and lie, cheat, and steal. You’ll deserve what you get.
    â€”A Guilty Conscience Needs No Accuser, or The Dire Consequences of Deception

    E VA
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    He called the next morning. I’d given him my business card but he could have gotten the number from information. I was pretty sure that Jake didn’t let little things stand in the way of getting what he wanted. He was, after all, an only child and I’d witnessed his mother’s near-worship of her offspring.
    He asked me to meet him for lunch. I told him that I had a meeting. He suggested I cancel the meeting.
    â€œYou don’t know me very well,” I replied. “Nothing comes before work.”
    â€œAll work and no play dulls a woman’s senses.”
    â€œWho said anything about no play? Really, Jake, you shouldn’t make assumptions.”
    â€œYou’re right,” he said. “I shouldn’t. But I’m human so I’ll probably continue to assume and make an ass out of you and me.”
    â€œCute. Anything else? Because I’m very busy.”
    â€œNot too busy to take my call,” he pointed out. “I’m going to assume that’s a good sign. I’m going to assume that you want to see me again.”
    I let him wait for my reply. I counted out a full sixty seconds, an eternity.
    â€œMeet me at Hantman’s at six-thirty,” I said into the silence. “And don’t be late.”
    â€œI won’t be late,” he said.
    But he was, ten minutes late. I was just about to pay the bill and leave when I caught sight of him in the mirror over the bar. God, did he look good.
    We had a drink and said little. When the bartender asked if we wanted another, Jake said, “No.”
    We went back to his apartment and had sex, immediately, without awkward preliminaries. It was fantastic.
    Afterward, stretched out in Jake’s rather comfortable bed (I later learned that Sophie had bought the expensive mattress for him “just because.”), I felt a twinge of guilt about what I’d done; I did. But I defy anyone to resist the kind of sexual attraction that clamors to be fulfilled. Besides, Jake was of legal age, even if certain bartenders in this city didn’t believe it without proof.
    â€œMom doesn’t need to know,” Jake said abruptly. “It’s really none of her business, is it? What’s happening here will be our little secret.”
    â€œThere’s one condition,” I said. “Besides the secrecy thing.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œMaybe we can not talk about your—about Sophie, okay? At least, if you have to mention her, try to call her Sophie and not Mom.”
    Jake leaned on one arm and looked at me, his expression serious. “I can do that. I think.”
    â€œAnd no one else knows. No one.”
    Jake grinned. “I can’t tell my friends I’m having sex with the hottest woman in town?”
    I considered. A little free publicity never hurt anyone. “Okay,” I said. “As long as your friends understand that your—that Sophie can never know.”
    â€œWhat about your friends?” Jake asked. “Besides