As I walked out of the elevator, I saw him ahead of me; his back—his broad back—was turned to me and he was leafing through the firm marketing materials that were set out in reception. As I came through the turnstiles, he turned around and caught me staring. His gaze bore right into me.

I vaguely heard someone on reception wish me good night, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t take my eyes off the man in front of me. The videos I watched of him didn’t properly show how tall and physically imposing he was. He must be around six-foot-four. He was wearing a luxurious dark navy suit that covered his powerful body. I was semi-aware of people coming in and out of the entrance doors, but somehow our connected gaze blunted my hearing and vision of everything else around me.

As I got nearer to him, the corners of his mouth turned up and I couldn’t help but smile right back at him. When he was close enough to touch, I stopped and just stared at him. His eyes were still as I remembered, hypnotizing, but there was something behind them now that there wasn’t when he was younger. Strength and power, for sure. But a hint of sadness, also. His jaw was achingly strong; I fought my instinct to reach up and stroke it, to run my finger over his beautiful lips.

“Hey, stranger,” he whispered without taking his eyes off me. I felt a current of desire go through me and I closed my eyes in a long blink.

“Hey stranger, yourself,” I whispered back.

We stood there for what seemed like hours, smiling and staring at each other. I lost any concept of time and place. I just wanted to stand there and drink him in; he was intoxicating.

“I have a car waiting outside. Let’s go,” he said. He rested his hand in the small of my back and I felt that current of desire go through me again like an electric charge and I gasped, my lips parted and I looked away, breaking the gaze between us. I was embarrassed that my body gave me away so easily. I looked toward the doors and just nodded and he led me to the car.

I was in trouble.

I slid into the backseat and tried to compose myself as he came around to the opposite side and slid in beside me.

“How was your day?” he asked. I looked down and away from his intense stare, thinking I might be able to form a sentence if I wasn’t looking into those eyes. But he reached out toward me and tilted my chin back up. “Look at me.”

I took a deep breath and my eyes met his again. My skin was vibrating where he touched me and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to answer.

“It was great actually. Really great. What about yours?” I needed him to do the talking. I needed to concentrate on breathing in and out.

When he spoke, unlike me, he seemed to be able to form a full sentence without any difficulty at all. His eyes never left me. Even when I looked away, I could feel them on me, exploring me.

“It has been going quite well, but it just got a whole lot better.” The corners of his mouth turned up again and I just sighed and relaxed back in my seat. Good god, I was a mess.

When we arrived at our destination, Daniel’s driver opened my door, and as I got out of the car I turned my head to see where Daniel was. He was right there, and before I knew it, he had taken my hand in his and was leading me between two buildings down an unlit alley. Nervous, I instinctively reached my free hand across to our joined hands. It seemed natural that we were joined like this, even though we had only just met after so long. Daniel increased the pressure in his clasped hand reassuringly. No wedding ring. I was relieved and my stomach clenched—the guilt pushing through. Where was he taking me?

After about 30 feet, we came to a heavy black Georgian door on the right hand side that opened as we approached it.

“I wanted to bring you to my favorite place in London,” he said, leaning into me, his mouth just an inch from my neck, his breath on my skin.

We were met in the entrance hall by a hostess who should have been gracing the pages of Vogue, not showing people to their seats at ... wherever we were. She was tall, lithe, beautiful, and beaming at Daniel. A surge of jealousy coursed through me. Maybe this was his favorite place because of her.

“Mr. Armitage, so lovely to see you again.”

Daniel didn’t seem to hear her. He was looking at me with that half-grin on his face.

“Can I take your coat?” the goddess next to me asked. I shrugged off my coat and gave it to her. Daniel  grabbed my hand again and I exhaled in relief at his touch as we headed downstairs to what the discrete sign promised was the Coltrane Club.

As we got to our table, I felt completely overwhelmed. Why had I never heard of this phenomenal place? It felt secretive and intimate. The room we were in had a bar at one end and a small stage at the other. The ceiling was tented in deep red silk and down each side; there were about four little booths, made up of oxblood leather semi-circular bench seats with high backs, each with its own little tented ceiling. There were also a smattering of tables in front of the stage, but we were ensconced in one of the booths. Someone was playing the piano, and there were other instruments on stage, which seemed to suggest there was more to come. Daniel sat almost at a right angle to me. We were no longer holding hands, but the air between us was thick and I realized I wanted—I needed—a part of his body to be touching mine.

When the waiter came over, Daniel ordered for the both of us without any reference to me. We both knew he was entirely in control of this evening. I tried to make conversation.

“So, this is—”

“Intense?”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Yes, intense, that’s exactly what it is. I’m not imagining it, then?”

“No, it’s real.” He reached up and trailed the back of his index finger across my cheekbone.

Our champagne arrived.

“To a wonderful evening.” Daniel raised his glass. I smiled and, mirroring him, I raised my glass.

The band came out on stage and started playing ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin.’ It was a welcome distraction; I was able to focus on something else. I could feel Daniel’s eyes on me and then I felt his hand rest on my thigh. I felt myself moisten and I slumped forward and put my head in my hands. I couldn’t do this; I had to tell him about Charlie. Daniel moved his hand from my thigh and rubbed my back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Are you OK?”

This was it—this was my opening. I had to tell him. “Daniel, I— I need ...”

“Take a deep breath, Leah. Look at me. What is it?” He continued to rub my back.

“Daniel, I’m in a relationship.”

“I know. You’re engaged.” He hadn’t taken his eyes from mine.

“What? My parents don’t even know I’m engaged! How do you know, and if you know, what are we doing here?”

“Leah, I want you to take a breath and then have a sip of champagne.” I sat back and I did as I was told.

“Look at me, Leah.” I turned my head. “I don’t have any kind of meeting, business or pleasure, without knowing exactly who I’m meeting. I’m thorough, Leah. I have to be. I don’t like surprises. I require complete transparency in my life. I’ve been caught out before and it will never happen again.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since before I emailed you from JFK.”

Oh, he’d known all along.

“Are you married?” I blurted out.

He smiled. “No, Leah, I’m not married. I was married; we divorced.”

“I’m sorry. When? What happened?”

“I’m happy to tell you everything about my marriage and my divorce, but not now, not tonight. I want tonight to be about us.”

“But Daniel, I’m engaged. You said it yourself.”

“Yes, but as you said, you’ve not even told your parents ... Why is that, Leah?” It was a question I’d been asking myself a lot lately. “And as you also said, this is intense.”

“So, what is this tonight?”

“I have no master plan. Let’s just take a time-out, put everything else out of our heads, and enjoy this evening together. We are, after all, old school friends.” he added and grinned wickedly.

I didn’t respond for a few minutes.

“OK, time-out, just for tonight.”

I relaxed a bit; the intensity was still there but with less discomfort than I felt before. We talked properly and we didn’t stop talking: about the band on stage, about our jobs, the music we liked listening to, what we had been doing since we last saw each other, what we enjoyed about our lives. We both skirted around our romantic relationships—we were on a time-out, after all. We talked and laughed, sat in comfortable silence as we listened to the band play some amazing music. It was like we had known each other our whole lives.

Some hours later, I dragged my eyes away from Daniel and scanned the room. We were the last ones left. Holy hell, it was past 1 a.m.

“I need to go.”

Daniel’s smile faltered almost imperceptibly and I saw that sadness again in his eyes. He nodded and he asked for the bill.

“I’m sorry; I’m having a lovely time.” I reached over and grabbed his hand and he interlaced his fingers with mine. The driver was waiting for us when we got into the street.

“I really want to see you home, but given the circumstances, I’ve asked my driver to take you from here and I’ll get a cab.” I was a bit shocked. I thought we would have the car journey back together.

“Oh, thank you, but I can take a cab,” I said, trying to cover my disappointment.

“My driver will take you, Leah. I don’t want you in a cab at this time of night.”

“Thank you for everything tonight. It’s been a wonderful evening.”

He trailed his fingers up my spine and cupped my face, then placed a chaste kiss on my lips that set a fire racing through my body. My legs collapsed a little and I stumbled. Daniel steadied me and helped me into the car without saying another word.

I went to say goodbye and he raised his index finger to his lips, as if he were willing me not to end the evening. The car pulled away and left him on the sidewalk, staring at the sky.

The tears came from nowhere. I’d had such an amazing evening, but quite suddenly I felt that something inside me had died. I knew our time-out was over and I couldn’t see him again. I knew that before the evening began, but now the thought scorched through my head and I desperately wanted to pull it out and stop the pain.

I arrived back at the flat exhausted by my sobbing. Daniel’s driver didn’t say a word about my inexplicable tears. He didn’t even glance in his rearview mirror, for which I was very grateful. How would I explain my state to Charlie? Hopefully he would be fast asleep. I crept into the flat, trying to navigate the dark in order to avoid waking him by switching on the lights.

When I reached the bedroom, Charlie wasn’t there. I checked my phone, no message. All I could think was how relieved I was that I wasn’t confronted by his physical presence. I could delay the full extent of my feelings of guilt. Then it occurred to me that maybe something had happened to him. I checked my email and he’d sent me a message that he would be working very late and might not make it home. God, he was working his behind off at the moment, and for what? To provide for our future together. And there it was: The guilt poured over me.

I think I must have drifted off at some point, although I couldn’t be sure. I certainly didn’t feel rested when the alarm went off. Charlie hadn’t been home all night. I texted him and asked him if he needed me to bring a change of clothes into the office for him. He normally kept a clean shirt there but he’d done a couple of overnighters recently, so I thought he might be have used them up. When I came out of the shower, he’d texted back to say that he was coming home for a shower shortly.

I ran around getting ready as quickly as I could. I wanted to get out of the flat before he arrived, I couldn’t bear to face him. I left him a note saying I would cook dinner for him this evening if he was going to be home. I would begin to make amends.

When I got to my desk, I was confronted by a bouquet of white roses sitting in a vase. Brendan came waltzing over.

“Roses after six years. He’s either cheating or working too hard—or both!”

I laughed as convincingly as I could. They weren’t from Charlie. I knew that without looking at the card. White roses had always held a bit of fascination for me, something I associated with true love and fairytales since I was a child. But I’d never received them, and it wasn’t a fascination that I’d ever shared with anyone. How did he know? And how had he even gotten flowers to me by 8 a.m.?

Apart from Brendan there weren’t many people in the office, and I reached for the card without fear of anyone sneaking a peek over my shoulder.

Thank you ... for an intense evening.

Dx

I hid the card in my handbag and took a deep breath. This had to be over. Whatever this was, it couldn’t continue. Not even the email flirting. It was all too dangerous, too frightening, too intense. And I was engaged.

I threw myself into work and by the time people began to arrive, my was head down. During the course of the day, I managed to catch up on the work that had built while I was absorbed in the presentation pitch.

I jumped three feet out of my chair when Patricia came over that afternoon.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you!” We both laughed. “I hear you did a fabulous job yesterday.”

“Did you? That’s so nice, thanks. To be honest, I really enjoyed it more than I expected to. I’d love to get involved again if and when the need arises.”

“I’m so pleased to hear you say that, because I have a bit of an ulterior motive. David had a potential new client call in earlier today about representing them through a sale process. It’s a small chain of boutique hotels. Palmerston—have you heard of them?”

I shook my head.

“David said you acted on the Daleton sale, so you have some good industry experience. And because you did so well yesterday, you seem to be the perfect candidate for this pitch and presentation. What do you think?”

“Wow, that’s great. I’d love to help! How do we get started?” This was just what I needed: an overload at work so I didn’t have to think about anything going on at home.

“Well, that’s the only catch. We only have until next Tuesday to prepare. They aren’t doing a two-stage process; they’ve just invited three firms to present and take questions next Tuesday afternoon. There’s a lot to do, but this would be phenomenal for the firm, it would really cement our expertise in this sector.”

“Sounds good. When’s the kickoff meeting?”

“Tomorrow at 8 a.m. I’ll send you some background reading in the meantime. Beautiful flowers, by the way.”

Great, I was going to be too busy to think!

I took Patricia’s reading home with me, so I left the office at a decent hour and stopped by the supermarket on the way home to pick up some food and a bottle of merlot—no Rioja—for dinner tonight. It was a fresh start, a new day.

I just needed to email Daniel to say thank you for the flowers, and I needed to ensure he was clear there would be no more time-outs and then that would be the end of things. I would start my amends-making by preparing and enjoying dinner with my fiancé.

Every time I started to write my goodbye email to Daniel, I managed to distract myself. I told myself I had to give Deb some comments on her note from yesterday’s call before I wrote the email. I had to book a hair appointment. I had to give Brendan my filing and go through my schedule for next week with him—by 3 p.m. I realized that I was just rude for not thanking him for the flowers and dinner last night. There was no way around it: I had to email him, and I had to do it then. I volunteered to do a coffee run again and started typing in the queue.

Thank you so much for the flowers. They are quite beautiful. You seem to have access to my most private thoughts; white roses are a particular favorite of mine, but I’ve never received them from anyone until now.

You said last night that you require transparency in your life, so I want to be completely clear with you—I had a truly wonderful evening last night. Thank you, but I’m back in reality now and I realize that we can’t pursue whatever there is between us. I hope that doesn’t sound presumptuous of me; I have no idea if you think there is something between us and no idea if you want to pursue it, but I know how I feel. I feel something and if circumstances were different ... but they’re not and I can’t get in deeper than I already am.

I’m so thankful we had last night.

Lx

That was the end of it. I logged out of my email and went to shower and change before starting on dinner. There was a finality about the tears that ran down my face during my shower that was reassuring. I just let them out, knowing they were for Daniel and therefore couldn’t be a part of me anymore.

When I came out of the shower, I had received a text from Charlie saying he would make it home tonight but not before dinner and for me to go ahead without him. Oh well, that gave me time for me to do the reading I guess.

I was starting to feel a bit more settled when Anna called later that evening. I didn’t tell her about meeting Daniel. I probably would at some point soon, when I felt a bit less raw.

“Can you do drinks on Friday?”

“I think so, yes. I have to go into work this weekend, though, so I can’t have a late night. Is Fran up for it as well?”

“No, I’m not inviting her. There’s something not right with that girl. I’ve barely seen her, and when I have she’s so moody. And to top it all she says she isn’t drinking this month. Now, you can’t tell me that’s normal behavior from Fran.”

“Well, abstinence from alcohol is bound to cause moodiness.” I tried to lighten her mood.

“Agreed, let’s change the subject. How are things with Charlie?”

“Better, I think. I’ve not really seen him since Sunday. He’s been working so hard, but things seem to be on the right track.”

“Well, that’s good, Leah, but remember that you need to know this is right for you for the rest of your life.”

“I know, I know.”

“Have you told your parents yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“Leah, how come?” Wasn’t that the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

“I will, when it’s right.” I wasn’t quite sure what I meant by “right,” but Anna took the hint and we spent the rest of our call gossiping about news of intra-law firm indiscretions. There was more than enough material to keep us busy for a lifetime. Anna was always good at cheering me up and vice versa—tonight was no exception.

As I was finishing off my reading, my email pinged and my stomach lurched. He wouldn’t have replied would he? Apparently, he would.

It’s not presumptuous. I feel it, too. I’m fully aware of your situation and I understand it would be easier if I stayed away, but it’s not an option. I’m not going anywhere, Leah. X

I was in deep trouble.