Wednesday came and went. Charlie arrived home just after I did. I made us some dinner, we swapped work stories over our stir-fry, and then he went into the office to work. I went to bed early. Something clearly wasn’t right between us, but I didn’t know if it was him, me, or both of us. We should have talked about it, but I didn’t have the energy or inclination. Thinking about Daniel seemed to take up my energy over the last couple of days. He hadn’t emailed me again. He probably realized we’d been a bit too flirtatious and was feeling guilty. He was married, but that didn’t stop me thinking about him.

As I hit my desk late at 9:30 a.m. on Thursday, I got an email from Anna.

Can you try to get out of the office at a decent hour tonight? Can you do 6 p.m.? A

As usual, Anna was already thinking about the end of the day before it started.

I finally got to sit down with Patricia from marketing and David. Patricia was enthusiastic about my involvement. She said that clients were increasingly asking associates to be involved with tender processes, as they would be the ones who would be putting in the most hours. This is where she said I could be of most assistance.

When Patricia described the pitch process, it sounded quite straightforward. We would submit a proposal for a piece of legal work according to the criteria specified. I wouldn’t really assist with putting the proposal together, but I would study it and then go along to any client presentations where we would talk about the work, our credentials, and then the potential client would get to question us. It sounded fun and so different from what I was used to. I was proud of what we did as a firm and was keen to talk about it to anyone who would listen. It would also be a great step to creating my own client base, which I would need if I decided I wanted to go for partner. It was so nice of David to come through for me like this.

Anna and I agreed to meet at 6 p.m. but not at our usual place—we wanted a proper catch-up and didn’t want to run into anyone we knew. Was I going to tell her about the awkwardness between Charlie and me? Should I tell her that I was having a crazy fantasy about some school crush from decades ago? We told each other everything and I imagined tonight would be no exception.

“So, out with it Leah,” Anna said. “You don’t seem at all excited about the engagement. What’s going on?”

I had barely sat down. So we were definitely going to get into it; there was no avoiding her question. She was on a mission. Anna was nothing if not direct.

“I don’t know, Anna. Things between Charlie and me are weird. Sometimes I’m just not sure Charlie likes me that much.”

“Well, of course he likes you. He’s asked you to marry him, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, after six years he has finally asked me. But I’m not sure he really likes me anymore, and I’m not sure if he ever did. And I’m not sure I like him much anymore. He can be so insensitive. And I thought the sex would liven up at least for a bit after the engagement, but we’ve not slept together in weeks.” It all kind of spilled out, and putting it into words made it sound awful. “But maybe we are just going through a rough patch. No couple is perfect. And maybe I’m afraid of commitment on some level and this engagement thing is getting me worked up.” All that stuff about him marrying an heiress who didn’t work hadn’t helped either. I wasn’t sure I was what he really wanted.

Anna interrupted my thoughts. “Well, if you’ve not set a date yet, you can see how things go in the next few months. You’ll probably get back to normal. But you know what they say—the time before you get married is the best it’s ever going to get. Don’t marry him just because that’s what everyone, including you, has been expecting. You owe it to yourself to think about what you really want.”

Anna was right. I needed to make a conscious decision. “So ... when you are getting married to someone, are you supposed to be having fantasies about the one that got away?” I asked.

We both collapsed into giggles.

“I feel we need a round of tequilas before we get into this.”

Anna came back with the tequilas and slices of orange.

“So who is the one that got away? Have I heard about this one? Not Matthew?”

“God, no not Matt,” I said. “It’s nothing, really. The other day I just LinkedIn with a guy who I had a crush on when I was 15. We had a bit of a chat over email. I just can’t stop thinking about him. It doesn’t help that I Googled him and he’s totally hot. He’s just a fantasy, though. It will pass soon enough, I’m sure.”

After much cajoling, I brought up his photo on Google so Anna could pass judgment on his hot factor.

“Wow, he is hot. Talk, dark, handsome, successful. He’s definitely fantasy worthy. So, is he gay, married, or both?”

I threw my head back and laughed and then blushed as I remembered what Daniel had said about my laugh. “I think he’s married. I’ve been doing some Fran-like cyberstalking and he seems to be wearing a wedding ring in some pictures. Anyway, like you say, it’s just a fantasy. It will have worn off by the end of the week.” I wanted to get off the subject. I felt silly for feeling as caught up with him as I did. He was married, I was engaged, and we had just exchanged a few emails. “So, speaking of Fran, how is she? I emailed her earlier in the week but I’ve not heard back from her.”

Anna and Fran worked at the same law firm around the corner from my mine, so they saw each other every day. I knew Fran through Anna, and although I would consider her a good friend because I spent a lot of time with her, I rarely saw her unless Anna was with us.

“Well, I’ve not really seen much of her this week, and really other than Monday I’ve not seen her for a few weeks. I think that she’s been totally into that DJ that she shagged over the weekend. Maybe he’s still hanging around, wanting something more than a one-night stand. Who knows with Fran.”

“Maybe she’s just moved on to her next stalkee and she’s wrapped up in that?” I asked.

“Probably. She just seemed a bit odd. She called in sick on Tuesday, which is so unlike her, and she seems really subdued.”

Fran was a really pretty girl: tall, very thin with curly blond hair. She had had a tough upbringing. Her alcoholic father died when she was a teenager, and her mother hadn’t coped well with being on her own and seemed to let Fran and her brother run riot. Being a lawyer was an escape for her. She had loads of friends as she was so easy to get along with and was always up for a party. Relationships were her Achilles’ heel: She always had one in her sights, but she was never with a man for very long.

“Why don’t the three of us do a shopping and lunch day this weekend to cheer ourselves up? We can indulge in a man-free zone!” I suggested.

“Oh my god, I’m totally up for that. Saturday? Let me text Fran to check if she’s free.”

“Oh, Anna, you won’t mention my doubts about Charlie and me to Fran will you? I would hate anything to get back to him. And please don’t mention Daniel. I’d die of embarrassment.”

“Of course not. But is that what you’re having? Doubts, I mean?”

“I guess.” I’d not labeled any of my feelings up to that point. But doubts seemed to cover what I was feeling.

My phone buzzed—an email. From Daniel. I wasn’t expecting that! I’d not heard from him since Monday. I thought I’d made such an idiot of myself that I’d never hear from him again.

I’m at JFK and drinking Rioja before my flight. Care to join me for a glass remotely? D

I drew in a sharp breath.

“What is it?” Anna asked.

“Oh nothing. I forgot I had a training session at the gym tomorrow morning, and I just got a reminder. In fact, I should get going. It’s getting late.”

I couldn’t wait to get home and reply to Daniel. I wanted to be able to concentrate on my reply and didn’t want Anna asking questions. After dashing out of the bar, I kissed Anna goodbye on the street and waved down a cab. When I’d given the driver my address, I fished out my phone from my pocket and typed a reply.

I’ve had one or two glasses already. I’m not sure I should. I’m happy to keep you company while you wait for your flight though. How was your day? L

Daniel came back straight away.

My day has been grueling. I need to be distracted. Are you in the bath again? D

The flirtatious tone of his emails had escalated quickly. My nipples tightened against the lace of my bra; my heart quickened. He wanted to be distracted by me in the bath. I wish he were here with me now; I would be happy to distract him in the flesh. What was I going to say? Was I imagining his flirtation? I couldn’t think straight. I was suddenly aware I was not alone and the cab driver was looking at me strangely in his mirror. We pulled up to the flat and told him to keep the change as I handed him a twenty. As soon as I got through the front door, I replied.

No bath for me this evening, I had a shower this morning. I’m just getting ready for bed. Do baths distract you? L

I wandered into the bedroom and started to change. I should be asleep already. I smoothed my favorite Chanel lotion over my legs. My body seemed to be on full alert and just my hands gently sliding over my skin while about Daniel caused a throbbing between my legs. God, I missed having someone touch me, make love to me.

The thought of you in the bath distracts me. The thought of you in bed distracts me. D

No, I wasn’t imagining it. He was being very clear. I slipped into bed and replied.

Well, you are quite the distraction to me this evening, Mr. Armitage. L

Again, he replied straight away.

It’s nice to know I have the power to distract you, too. D

I wish I knew what he was thinking. He was probably married. So was this some harmless flirtation to ease a seven-year itch?

I think you have enough power already, if the results of my Google search are anything to go by. L

You’ve been Googling me? D

Yikes, I’d just given away my cyberstalking.

Well, I don’t normally have remote drinks with complete strangers. I had to know who I was sharing my Rioja with. L

That seemed reasonable enough, didn’t it?

They’ve just called my flight. Let’s discuss this over dinner. D

Holy crap. What had I gotten myself into? I couldn’t have dinner with this married man. But I didn’t want the flirting to stop.

Have a good flight. L

And my email fell silent. Was he angry at me for Googling him? Surely he couldn’t be. Had he guessed that I knew he was married? Would he email me again? Eventually I fell asleep.

The first thing I did was check my email when I woke. Nothing. Would he have landed yet? Should I check the Heathrow arrivals website and work out if he had landed? I was starting to lose my mind.

Calm down, Leah, I told myself in my head as Charlie stirred beside me. You are 30 years old, and you need to get a grip.

I headed into the shower and resolved not to obsess. Charlie and I barely exchanged two words. I told him I was going shopping with the girls the following day. He said he’d already arranged golf for the day. I thought we were going ring shopping, but he didn’t mention it and neither did I.

My morning seemed to drag. I was on a conference call for most of it. Sitting at my desk, I kept peering at my personal phone to check my emails and then remembering I should be concentrating. There were about 16 people on this call. It was completely unmanageable. Luckily, I had a trainee on the same call taking notes. I emailed her.

Deb, can you make sure you keep a separate list of the action points that we are responsible for? Thanks, Leah.

Hopefully, between us we wouldn’t miss anything—my brain was not in gear today. I was always so composed and on top of things at work, no matter what was going on in my personal life. Apparently today was the exception.

Just as the call wrapped up, Brendan, the PA I shared with David, threw a courier delivery on my desk. Brendan was lucky he was funny because he was a terrible PA. Because he kept us all entertained with his colorful stories of London’s gay nightlife, and his sarcastic comments about the more challenging partners at the firm, we were willing to overlook his lack of skills—like the fact he threw my mail at me. Humor was the most effective stress relief.

Deb wandered over to my desk so we could formulate a plan after the call as I opened the package. Inside was a rich cream envelope in thick paper. This wasn’t a work delivery. A wedding invitation? I ignored the envelope and took Deb through the action points and broke them down into smaller tasks, but my focus was diverted by the delivery and I quickly gave up. I told her just to write up the list and then let me see it. I wanted to know who was getting married. As Deb scurried away, I opened the envelope. Inside was a card in the same rich cream.

You didn’t answer my question. Dinner? Saturday?

D

I flushed. He knew where I worked. I felt like his eyes were on me. He hadn’t just emailed me, he had written to me. This had taken a bit of organization and effort. There was no doubt that he was asking me a question now. I needed to clear my head, so I volunteered to do a coffee run.

I took my phone with me and replied in the ridiculously long queue for lattes. I wondered how many working hours were spent in line for coffee. We could probably end the recession by just closing down Starbucks.

I got your note. I didn’t realize you had asked me a question. I can’t have dinner with you on Saturday, I’m sorry. I have plans. L

It was true, I did have plans, but it wasn’t entirely honest, either. This was an opportunity to tell him I was engaged, to say that I had plans with my fiancé this Saturday night. But he hadn’t mentioned that he was married, and maybe I had read the situation wrong and he wasn’t interested in me like that. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

Ping.

We will have dinner now that I’m back in London. Pick a day. D

He wasn’t making a request. That decisiveness meant I wasn’t going to say no. OK, so I would meet him for a quick supper, catch up on old times, and drop my engagement into conversation. Yes, that would bring things to a close.

OK. Tuesday. L

I’ll pick you up outside your office at 7 p.m. I look forward to it. D

***

On Saturday morning, I was sitting at my dressing table getting ready for my girls’ day out when Charlie came out of the shower.

“You look beautiful, Leah.”

“Don’t be silly,” I said without turning around.

“I mean it. You look beautiful. You are beautiful. I don’t say it enough.”

He was looking at me intensely.

“Thank you.”

He came over to me, swept my hair aside, and kissed my neck and then my shoulder.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been so busy at work the last few weeks. Things have been really intense.”

I reached around his neck and pulled him closer. He turned me around on the stool, took my face in his hands, bent over, and kissed me deeply and passionately.

***

I found Anna and Fran in the shoe department at Harvey Nics.

“I’m so sorry I’m late girls. What did I miss?” I was right on schedule this morning until Charlie’s libido had woken up. My legs still felt a little wobbly.

“No problem, we know Charlie likes his sex on the weekends!” Anna was so cheeky. I smacked her on the arm.

Fran ignored her, fully engrossed in a bright red patent pair of Louboutins that we were now going to have to spend the rest of the day talking her out of buying.

“Let’s talk about Fran’s sex life instead, hmm? Have you seen him again?” I asked.

“Nope, I’ve decided to get serious about dating. No more boys. I need a man. At some point, I want to get married and have a family, and it’s not going to happen with the idiots that I’ve spent the last few years chasing. ”

Anna and I exchanged a look. “In the words of the Spice Girls, you ‘want a man not, a boy who thinks he can.’” Anna was singing her quote at the top of her voice, oblivious to the stares she was getting from her fellow shoppers. “So what’s brought on this change of heart?” She got straight to the point, as ever.

“I’m sick of having my heart broken. It’s the same every time: The guys I’m with don’t see me as marriage material. Hell, they don’t see me as someone they want to take to dinner. I’ve reached my limit.”

“Well, I think we should toast to that. Let’s go and find some champagne and some lunch to go with it,” I suggested.

As we toasted Fran’s new approach to dating, Anna grabbed my wrist and spilled my champagne all over my hand.

“Oh my god, are you trying to be nonchalant about that rock on your hand?”

“This old thing?” Charlie had presented me with my engagement ring in bed after our morning sex. I had thought that we were going to go ring shopping together, but it seemed Charlie had had other ideas. Apparently, the ring was a copy of his mother’s engagement ring. It had taken a bit longer than expected to finish, which is why Charlie hadn’t presented it to me when he proposed. It wasn’t exactly what I would have chosen. It was a bit big and a bit fussy. But you couldn’t deny that it was beautiful.

“Wow, that’s huge,” Anna screeched.

“You must be pleased,” Fran said, a bit more subdued.

“It needs resizing, really, but I wanted you girls to be the first to see it before it went back to the jewelers.”

The rest of the day seemed to be spent with the emphasis on talking rather than shopping, but I picked up a new skirt for work and Anna bought a beautiful dress for an upcoming wedding she was going to. Fran did much better than us and spent a fortune. In fact, Anna and I spent most of the day gossiping while waiting outside changing rooms and by cash registers for Fran to continue her sartorial reinvention.

While Fran was trying on a jumpsuit in Armani Exchange, Anna brought up the subject of Thursday evening’s conversation. “So, things seem better between you and Charlie? The sex? The ring?”

“Yeah, he said things had been intense at work and he apologized. Perhaps it was just the tension around the engagement that was getting to us both. He seems to want to make things better.”

“But do you?”

Anna found the heart of the matter, as usual. I didn’t know what to say.

Anna prompted me. “Sorry, I’m not trying to interfere.”

“No, I know you’re not. I just don’t know how to answer you. All I can say is that I’m not ready to walk away. But I’m not ready to marry him, either.”

I didn’t tell her about dinner with Daniel. I didn’t know if I could go through with it after this morning. It seemed like Charlie really wanted things to work between us, and I owed him that, didn’t I? I loved him didn’t I?

Charlie initiated sex again on Sunday. Maybe things between us were really turning a corner. I guess maybe we both were affected by taking such a big step in our relationship after so long and now things would level out. After my gym session on Sunday morning and Charlie’s extended nap, we spent the day doing chores and getting ready for the week ahead. Well, I did. Charlie spent most of the day in the office. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but we were together under one roof and we snuggled up on the sofa to watch TV together on Sunday night.

First thing on Monday, I grabbed Brendan and dragged him into a meeting room so I could practice my part of the Phoenix presentation that was scheduled with David and another partner on Tuesday. Brendan was doing impressions of David the whole way through and I could barely keep a straight face. My cheeks were aching from trying not to laugh, so much that by the time we’d finished I thought I might be in a state of permanent cramp. I was still nervous, but at least I felt prepared. If I could get through it while Brendan was making me giggle, I felt confident that I could deliver my part as required in front of a normal audience. I really wanted to make a good impression—it was such great experience and I didn’t want it to be a one-off.

Luckily, the presentation kept me distracted from my personal life. I didn’t hear from Daniel over the weekend, but when I got home on Monday evening it suddenly hit me that we were due to meet the next day. Was it too late to cancel? Did I want to cancel? I really didn’t. I wanted to see him, to see if the man in my head matched the man in the flesh. I wanted to know if he was married. Was I just meeting up with an old school friend, or was I meeting up with someone I was completely attracted to?

On Tuesday morning, Charlie had already left for work when I got out of the shower. I was relieved. I had enough to think about without analyzing my interactions with my fiancé this morning. I dressed carefully. A black fitted shift dress that finished at the knee with a matching jacket, which would be great for the presentation but could be ditched for dinner tonight. I paired them with my favorite nude killer heels. I decided I would scrape my hair back into a ponytail just before the presentation and then let it down again for dinner. I wanted to look great for dinner without looking like I had made too much of an effort.

I made sure I packed up all my makeup and a change of stockings into my favorite Mulberry handbag and headed to work.

“Wow, you look amazing, babe.” Brendan let out a whistle. I guess I’d failed at not looking like I’d made an effort, but at least people would think it was for the presentation and not for a clandestine after-work dinner.

“Thanks B, wish me luck for this afternoon,” I replied, trying to reinforce the reason for any change in my normal work appearance.

“You won’t need luck. You’ve worked hard and you’re a natural.”

We had a dress rehearsal that morning and then bundled into a cab to the client’s offices at Canary Wharf at just after 1 p.m.

***

I was high on adrenaline on the cab ride back. It had all gone exceptionally well, and David and George, the other partner giving the presentation, thought we had a great shot at landing the client.

“You did an excellent job, Leah. Have a word with marketing and make sure you get another pitch lined up. We need to make the most of you. I could see they really responded when you spoke.”

“Thank you so much, both of you. It’s really great to have this opportunity.” I wasn’t sure either of them heard me; their heads were buried in their Blackberries.

I checked my personal email for any messages from Daniel, but there was nothing. Perhaps he’d forgotten.

Because of the rehearsals and preparation for the presentation, I was really behind with my work, so the rest of the afternoon sped by as I endeavored to catch up. At 6:45 p.m. I closed my programs, logged off, and went to the bathroom to reapply my makeup and calm my increasing nervousness.

Should I wait downstairs? Would he email me when he arrived? Perhaps he’d just forgotten. I decided to wait at my desk. At 7 p.m. exactly, my office phone rang and I jumped out of my skin.

“Leah, I have a Mr. Armitage in reception for you.”

Well, this was it. I went to replace the receiver, but just before I hung up, I heard the receptionist say, “Leah?” I hadn’t responded.

“Thanks, I’ll be right down.”