The rest of the week flew by, and I was pleased with how things had been going between Mary and me. Well, "pleased" might not be the right word, as I'd been purposefully putting distance between her and me in a manner that likely was causing her some distress.

And I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't hurting just a bit from this "adjustment."

But I told myself over and over it was for the best, that though it might be uncomfortable at the moment, reasserting the distance between Mary and me was the right thing to do. Once this period of transition was over, we'd be right back to where we ought to have been from the beginning, with myself as the superior and Mary as my assistant, the two of us working together in a professional manner, with none of the other messiness involved.

I knew this was the right thing to do. But then why did it feel so…awful?

I put these thoughts out of my head as best I could. And, sure enough, just like I knew Mary would do, she soon began to focus on her work without the previous casual familiarity that she'd been showing to me. It was strange to be interacting in such a manner with someone with whom I'd had such a history, but it was necessary. And the two of us proved to make a smashing team either way; the project of getting things sorted out for the expansion of Langford into New York was going swimmingly, and if all went as it had been, everything would be in order for Richard Sr. to be able to open the new branch as soon as he was ready.

"Your meeting with Junior," I said to Mary one morning as I poured myself a cup of coffee. "How was it?"

Mary looked at me with a quizzical expression, as if unsure that she should be answering a question that could be construed as personal. But I held my gaze, and she got the impression that this was acceptable subject matter. It did pertain to work, after all.

"It was fine," I said. "We had dinner and discussed work."

"I see," I said.

But there was something more to Mary's response, something that she wasn't saying with her words. She bristled at the mere mention of Junior. I wasn't surprised at this; Junior did have a bit of a reputation with women.

"Anything that I might be interested in knowing?" I asked, prying just a bit.

"No," she said brusquely. "Nothing."

It didn't take a genius to know that something was up. But I let it go for now, not wanting to cross the carefully-constructed borders between the two of us.

Mary let me know of some meetings on the schedule for today, poured herself a cup of coffee, and headed back upstairs. I watched her leave, wondering just what she was keeping from me.

I had other concerns, however; the dinner that I'd scheduled with Evelyn was for tonight. I was still rather conflicted about this whole thing. I knew, just like my situation with Mary, that keeping a certain type of relationship between the two of us was necessary. In the case of Evelyn, I needed to keep things congenial in order to make life easier for Grace. But, again, just like with Mary, I felt that there was something she wasn't telling me.

So much to worry about, I thought as I returned to the office. And that's not even getting into the work I'd been sent here to do.

I finished some odds and ends in the office before heading out for the meetings that I had lined up. The next few hours were spent darting around Manhattan, heading from a business lunch with a property agency for the office space to a meeting with a high-up in one of the other holding companies in the city. Everything was going well- the property agency had some affordable office space in mind for us that would work perfectly, and the holding company had a very interesting offer regarding a temporary partnership that would help us get a foothold in the city. Sure, they'd likely become competition down the road, but for now it was a smart partnership.

As I headed back to the townhouse, I couldn't help but wonder just why work came so naturally to me, but matters pertaining to my love life always seemed chaotic and out of my reach. A business-changing meeting was nothing to me, but a dinner with my ex-wife was causing my stomach to tighten in anticipation. If only love had a set of rules that one could follow for success, just like in business. Instead, it was chaotic and unpredictable.

I arrived home and saw that Mary was already helping out Grace with her homework. I couldn't help but notice just how amazing Mary had been with Grace. The two girls were fast friends after that little uneven patch at the start, and she seemed to just have a way with Grace. After confirming with Mary that she'd be able to spend the evening with Grace, I made a mental note to keep in mind the hard work she'd been putting forth with Grace when it came time to hand out bonuses.

Returning to my bedroom, I picked up my phone and saw that there was a text from Evelyn.

• Just a reminder about tonight ;)

As if I would forget.

I sighed and tossed the phone onto my bed as I headed over to the closet to pick out something to wear.

Strangely, however, as much as I wasn't looking forward to seeing Evelyn tonight, part of me…actually was. I'd be lying if I said that she and I didn't get along before this whole nasty business with the divorce started, and the idea of having a pleasant night out with the woman that I'd once loved, the mother of my daughter, was somewhat enticing. But I knew that it would require expert navigation if I was to get through it in a hopefully drama-free manner. Evelyn could be wonderful, charming company, but she could also change into a different person at the drop of a hat. And it was almost impossible to know what might set her off.

I typed up a quick response to Evelyn, letting her know that no, I hadn't forgotten, and that at what precise time the reservation was. I spent a little time in front of the mirror, eventually deciding just to change into a fresh shirt and put on a matching tie. I didn't need to get all gussied up for this, and dressing too formally might send the wrong message.

It was a fine line, indeed: appear to be taking the evening too seriously and I might send a particular message that I didn't want to send. But to appear to take the evening too flippantly, and I might send another entirely.

Once the hour arrived, I checked on the girls one last time and took a cab down to the restaurant near Columbus Circle where Evelyn had made the reservation. The place was a standard high-class affair, the sort of establishment that Evelyn preferred. She was a woman of taste and sophistication, the sort that wouldn't be caught dead in a cheap and cheerful place.

The hostess directed me towards the table, and there I found Evelyn. She was in the middle of a sip of something red, her eyes flicking to me as I approached. She rose, a beaming smile on her face that set me on guard right then and there. She was wearing a dress that was almost scandalous; ample leg and cleavage both were on display. This wasn't her usual type of eveningwear, and it, along with the smile, had the effect of me raising my guard just a bit. Aside from her dress, she looked her usual beautiful, elegant self.

"There's my darling Samuel," she said, embracing me so tightly that the subtle strains of her expensive perfume wafted up and around me.

"Good evening, Evelyn," I said, ending the hug and slipping into my chair.

Evelyn's face formed into a pout.

"So formal," she said. "What happened to ‘Evie'?"

"I wasn't aware that we were on such terms," I said, pouring myself a much-needed glass of wine.

Stealing a glance at the label, I recognized the brand- it was a very, very expensive Cabernet.

"Why wouldn't we be?" she asked. "It's not as though you and I don't have a history."

"We certainly do," I said. "To call it a ‘history' would be putting it lightly."

"I certainly agree," she said, holding her wine glass in front of her face and looking at me over it with sensual, narrowed eyes.

"Well," I said. "I'd be remiss if I didn't ask exactly why we're having this little soiree. I'm still surprised that you're here in New York."

"Always needing the facts," she said. "Why does everything need such a clear-cut purpose? Not everything is a business negotiation, you know."

I stifled a scoff at the ludicrousness of this statement; discussing any matter with Evelyn was typically more difficult than anything I had to do for work.

"Then what," I said. "This is really simply an evening to…hang out? Just to have a bottle of wine and a few laughs?"

"Why not?" she asked. "I mean, you and I do have a little girl together; it only makes sense that we take a little time here and there to make sure the relationship between the two of us hasn't deteriorated into nothing."

I couldn't argue with this idea. However, things were rarely so clear-cut with Evelyn. She was the type to have plans upon plans, and there was very little chance that there wasn't a reason for this evening beyond what she'd just said. But I knew that if spent the entire dinner picking at her intentions It'd be a very long evening indeed.

"Very well," I said, bringing my wine glass to my lips. "I suppose an evening of catching-up wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"That's my Sammy," she said. "Just relax and enjoy the food and the ambiance. The chef at this place is supposed to be a miracle worker."

And right on cue, the waitress, a pretty, green-eyed blonde, arrived. I ordered the evening special, and when the waitress turned her attention to Evelyn, she had but two words.

"Steak," she said. "Bloody."

Evelyn's eyes latched onto the waitress as she walked away. It was a scene that I was well used to- Evelyn could hardly stand the sight of a woman as beautiful as her in her presence; it was as though a girl having the temerity to not let her be the most glamorous woman in the room was some manner of affront.

"Never really knew you to be so carnivorous," I said.

"I bet there are a lot of things you don't know about me," said Evelyn. "I'm hardly the same woman that you fell in love with so many years ago."

"Hmm," I said. "Is that a good thing, or a bad?"

Evelyn flashed me another narrow-eyed look.

"I suppose you'll have to be the judge of that."

Full of the double-entendres tonight, I thought.

"So," I said, hoping to bring the conversation back to more prosaic grounds. "Why don't you tell me about what's been going on with your life these days? I don't really hear much about you; it seems that whenever we talk it's always an argument about one thing or another."

Evelyn nodded. "I agree- it's not right that two people like you and I would have such difficulties simply communicating."

I nearly, very nearly, scoffed at this. It was beyond humorous to me that Evelyn would consider the tension in our relationship anything but a one-sided affair. To me, keeping the peace for Grace's sake was of the utmost importance, and Evelyn always seemed more concerned about getting in her jabs here and there where she could. But I was willing to let this slide due to her current conciliatory overtures.

"Quite," I said.

"I mean, if anything, Grace should be the one at the center of everything. All of our interactions should be made with her needs and comfort in mind."

"I couldn't agree more," I said, performing the tongue-biting to end all tongue-bitings.

"That's part of the reason why I'm so keen on us meeting up tonight. I figured that with you on the rise at Langford that we could mark a new period in our relationship, one that's marked by a more…friendly nature."

This all sounded well and good, but I knew Evelyn well enough to know that if she offered a reason for why she was doing something, her explanation was more likely simply the explanation that she wanted people to know. Her true motivations were always hidden- sometimes even to herself.

"Anyway," she continued, "things have been more of the same for me. I've been picking up work here and there where I could –why I'm in New York, after all- but my life has hit a little bit of a dull patch as of late. And what with you becoming a star at your firm and jet-setting here and there, I figured that I could, well, bask in the excitement of your life, as silly as that sounds. Not to mention that my own work has been…less than fulfilling. Clients just aren't as easy to come by these days."

I chuckled. "I don't know if I'd say that my life is all that exciting," I said. "Just meetings and other sorts of hum-drum work."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Samuel," Evelyn said. "There are those who'd kill to be where you are. Lovely apartment, a great job, a darling child- not to mention a wonderful ex such as myself."

Her tone was a little ironical. But only a little.

"And that charming little assistant who seems to be at your beck and call."

Ah, I thought. Only a matter of time before Mary was brought up. Before I could say a word, the waitress arrived with our salads. I took a bite, realizing that I was hungrier than I thought.

"You know," she said. "I did a little poking around, just to see who this pretty little thing who'd be spending time with my daughter was. Imagine my shock when I found out that you two have something of a history."

I knew this subject had to be handled with the utmost care in order to not inflame Evelyn's jealousy.

"We had a brief fling a few years back," I said, using the most detached tone I could muster. "Nothing serious. But she came up in the hiring pool and she was so qualified for the job that I simply couldn't say no to bringing her on board."

"Oh," said Evelyn, "I bet she has all sorts of…talents that you're more than happy to put to good use."

"It's not like that at all, I'm afraid," I said.

I didn't feel good about lying, but I knew that if Evelyn were to find out about Mary and I's little give-in to our passion the other night, then it very well might result in her using that steak knife for rather unintended purposes.

"She's simply the best fit for the job," I continued. "And sure, it doesn't hurt that we already know each other; it makes the process of getting her acclimated all the easier."

"Speaking of easy," said Evelyn. "She's certainly easy on the eyes. Nice little figure, golden-blonde hair, big innocent eyes that just scream out her need to please…I'd have a hard time keeping my hands off her if I were in your shoes."

She was trying to bait me, but I wasn't having any of it.

"I hope this dinner wasn't about you giving me the business for my choice in assistants."

"Oh, no," she said, her tone suggesting surprise that I'd even consider such a thing. "Let's talk about more pleasant matters then. Tell me how my lovely little daughter's been."

I was more than happy to talk about this. I went on about Grace, telling Evelyn about her newfound love for art, and how she's been absolutely obsessed with seeing all the museums in the city. Evelyn listened with genuine interest; she could have her faults, but she certainly did care for her daughter.

The first bumps of the evening out of the way, the conversation took on a slightly more pleasant tone. The wine flowed, and before I knew it was finding myself slipping into our old rapport, my walls slipping further and further down by with each sip of wine that I took. Eventually, the food arrived and the two of us tucked right into it, the stiff formality that I'd been exuding leading to something more casual and friendly. The first bottle of wine soon led to a second, and against my better intentions, I found myself getting more than a little tipsy.

"And how's little Junior?" she asked. "Still waving his money in front of the girls' faces to get them to touch his little prick?"

I laughed, but decided to keep what Junior had been doing recently out of the conversation.

"Same as always," I said. "Using daddy's name to get what he wants."

"I remember when he tried to pry me away from you back when you first started at Langford. It was at the Christmas party. He ‘happened' to find me under the mistletoe, his breath stinking of whatever he'd been pouring down his gullet that evening. Said to me something about how I didn't have to wait for you to become someone in the company- I could be with a ‘someone' that very evening, if I so wished."

"Sounds about right," I said. "He doesn't waste any time letting the girls know just who he is and how much he's got. Doesn't matter one bit if it's all because his father lets him have it."

"Ah, yes," she said. "What's that expression the Yanks use? ‘Born on third base and thinks he hit a triple'?"

"That's it," I said. " These Americans sure do love their baseball metaphors, don't they?"

Evelyn laughed and repeated that same sultry-eyed look over her wine glass.

"Quite," she said.

The waitress arrived and silently took our plates. Evelyn gave her that same look as she walked away, but I was able to not pay it much heed this time; against my better instincts, I was having a rather good time. Moments later, a pair of cups of a delicious ice cream –rum raisin, I guessed- were placed in front of us.

"This townhome of yours," said Evelyn.

"This townhome of Richards's," I corrected her.

Evelyn waved the detail aside.

"Whomever it belongs to," she said. "It must be quite the place."

"It's lovely," I said. "Perfect spot in the West Village."

Her face scrunched up.

"Sounds better than my accommodations," she said. "I'm up in some dreary little apartment in Queens."

Then she leaned in, as if she were about to let me in on some sort of conspiratorial intrigue.

"Say," she said. "I know she's with you, but is there any chance I could come by, take a little look at our girl? I miss her so."

Now, my clear and sober mind would've known right away that this was a bad idea- a terrible idea, even. But I wasn't at all in a clear and sober state of mind.

"I suppose so," I said. "Though she'll likely be asleep."

"Even better," said Evelyn. "She looks like a little angel when she's slumbering."

I thought of Mary, and how the two of them bumping into one another might be a bad idea. But I knew that Mary had been making early nights of it since we'd arrived, and would likely be in bed herself. So, against my better judgment, I said…

"Sure. But only for a quick visit."

"Naturally," she said, her tone pleased.

We finished our dessert and wine, and I slipped the waitress the card. Moments later, we were on our way back to the townhouse. During the ride, a creeping feeling slipped into my gut, one that said that this was an awful, terrible idea. But I was awash in the booze by this point, and just went along with it.

Soon, we arrived at the townhome, and Evelyn took in the sight of it with a little gasp.

"Beautiful," she said. "Can't even imagine how much a place like this costs. Millions, easily."

"And Richard hardly ever spends any time here," I said. "It's just a place he has should he ever need to spend some time in the city."

"That'll be you, someday," said Evelyn. "You've got the talent; I wouldn't be surprised if he were considering you for big things at Langford."

"Can't think too much about that," I said, leading her through the front door. "Just worry about the project at hand."

We entered, and I was relieved to see that everyone was indeed in bed. The two of us headed up to Grace's room were we watched her sleep for a time. I was so entranced by the sight of my daughter sleeping peacefully that I hardly even noticed when Evelyn placed her hand on my back.

"Such a darling little girl," she said quietly. "The one thing we did right, it seems."

"I agree."

"Say," she started. "Mind giving me a tour? I'd love to see the rest of this home."

"Sure," I said. "But an abridged one; can't very well show you the room where Mary's sleeping."

Evelyn couldn't help but let her face scrunch up at the name.

"Naturally," she said.

I showed her around, pointing out the finer details of the place. And when we arrived at the study, Evelyn walked into the room, shutting the door behind her.

"This where all the important work happens?" she asked.

"Something like that," I said.

Then, before I had the chance to react, Evelyn grabbed me by my shirt, pulled me close, and kissed me right on the lips.

Looking back, I'm not quite sure how to describe what I felt at that moment. There was a comforting familiarity to the kiss, and part of me was pleased to go along with it. Evelyn sensed this, and as she pulled me back to the desk, wrapping her legs around me as she sat back onto it, I knew right then and there that getting me into bed was the whole point of this evening. But why?

We kissed more, and I even allowed myself to fall into our embrace. But something about it was wrong. I couldn't put it into words at first, but as my mind worked through the hormones and the booze, a single, clear image formed- that of Mary.

It sounds bizarre, but as I kissed my ex-wife, the mother of my child, all I could think about was the woman whom I'd loved first.

And it was right there, right at that moment, that I realize that I'd never really stopped loving her. It only took the kiss of another for me to understand this.

"No," I said, gently pushing Evelyn away. "This isn't right; we shouldn't be doing this."

"Oh?" asked Evelyn in a sultry voice, her legs still wrapped around me. "I think it's exactly the thing that we should be doing."

She pulled me close for another kiss, but I kept my body stiff.

"No," I said. "I mean it. It was a mistake even going this far."

Evelyn's eyes narrowed.

"What's all this about?" she demanded, raising her voice. "Wait a minute…this is about that little American bitch, isn't it? I knew it; I just knew it. You've been moony about that little harlot from the get-go."

"Don't call her that," I said. "And kindly let me go."

But before another word could be said by either of us, I heard the last sound that I wanted to hear at that moment: the opening of the office door.

Evelyn's legs still wrapped around me, her hands still on my waist, I whipped my head around towards the door and saw, to my horror, Mary. She stood stone still at the threshold of the door, her eyes wide in shock.

"Mary!" I shouted. "What…what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd get a little work done," she said in a meek, quiet voice. "But I suppose you're busy in here."

My heart pounded. And out of the corner of my eye I could see a smug, pleased smile on Evelyn's face.

"Yes," she said. "We're a little…busy. But I'm sure Samuel would be more than willing for you to join the fun."

Mary apparently had seen all she needed to see, and didn't want to say another word. She shot from the threshold running down the hall.

"No," I said. "Mary, wait!"

But the damage had been done.

"It's for the best," said Evelyn, the tone of her voice suggesting that she'd gotten just what she wanted. "You don't need a little strumpet like that demanding your attention. You've got all you need right here."

I stepped out from between Evelyn's legs; I was absolutely bristling with anger.

"Leave. Now."

Evelyn's eyebrows raised.

"So stern," she said, standing up and smoothing her clothes. "But I suppose if I can't have you, making sure that little beast isn't around mucking things up will be just as good."

She took her purse from the coffee table and started towards the door.

"Farewell, Samuel," she said. "We'll be in touch."

And with that, she left, her stride confident; she'd gotten just what she wanted.

I felt like a goddamned fool. I should've known from the start that this evening was about Evelyn reasserting herself. I have no idea if she actually wanted to get back together, or if her plan was about nothing more than sabotaging things so that she remained the star of the show. Either way, the damage she'd done had been incalculable, and all I could do was hope that I could pick up the pieces.

I rushed down the hall to Mary's door and gave it a firm rap.

"Mary," I said. "Please let me in; please let me explain."

But a cool silence was the only response.

"Mary," I said again. "You have to understand that what you saw wasn't as it seems. Please let me explain."

More silence. I wasn't about to dig a bigger hole for myself. Starting back for my room, my mind raced.

Just what had I done? And what price would I pay?