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The Mistresses: Make-Believe Mistress
The Mistresses: Make-Believe Mistress
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The Mistresses: Make-Believe Mistress

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“Why are you here? I mean really. I’m not your usual type of date.”

She’d tried not to think about him. Had focused on the school and keeping it going. But in the back of her mind she’d been looking for excuses to keep him at arm’s length. Not because she didn’t want him closer but because she feared what would happen if she did and it turned out he wasn’t as interested in her.

“I think we’ve discussed this before.”

She envied him his ease and self-confidence in this situation. She’d handled herself with aplomb when she’d had to confront two teachers having sex in a classroom but this was simply beyond the scope of her experience. Adam was beyond that scope, and she hoped he’d never realize by how much.

“I think you’re right, but I still don’t get it. It seems like this is some sort of dream and that I’m going to wake up and you’ll still be treating me like a stranger.”

“Am I your dream man?” he asked.

She slid her gaze down his body. Dressed in an oxford shirt with the collar open and a pair of faded, tight jeans, he looked like every woman’s dream man. But it was way more than just his sexy, muscular body that made him her fantasy.

She shrugged, afraid of saying something and revealing too much to him. Afraid of increasing the very real chance that he might see her as a pathetic woman who’d somehow gotten hold of him and wouldn’t let go. Afraid that he’d realize she wasn’t the kind of woman who could hold his attention.

“Am I, Grace?” he asked, pushing away from the desk and walking toward her.

“Yes.”

“For how long?” he asked.

“Why? Why does that matter?”

“Because I want to know every one of your secrets,” he said, stopping with just an inch of space between them.

He was in her personal space but she didn’t care. She wanted him closer. It had been two long weeks since she’d felt his arms around her, and it had been too easy to convince herself that she’d simply dreamed the way he’d felt in her arms.

“My secrets?” He could never know her secrets. She didn’t like the fact that he’d even guessed that there was more to her than what she presented to the people she worked with.

But at the same time, that was what drew her even closer to him. She liked that he was the only man who saw beyond her facade. And if there was some safe way to let him in and still protect her tender heart, she’d do it.

“Yes, Gracie, your secrets,” he said. He cupped her jaw and tipped her head back, his fingers supporting the back of her neck as he kissed her.

“Do you have secrets, Adam?” she whispered.

“We all do.”

She clenched her hands together and stood still in his embrace. She didn’t know if she trusted him enough. If she’d ever trust him enough—because even after spending time in his arms, she still didn’t think he was real. He was still just a fantasy, and if they were ever going to get to a point of trust she was going to have to let him be real.

And the real man was complicated. He had problems and issues just like she did. He moved on. He always moved on. What kind of secrets did he have that he was always searching for something but never finding it?

She realized in that instant with his mouth on hers and his hand on her neck that she wanted to be the keeper of his secrets. That she wanted to find a way to understand the complex man who had been her fantasy for too long and that she now wanted to be her reality.

But he couldn’t be as long as their relationship remained hidden. She knew what happened to secrets like this. Forbidden desires were forbidden for a reason. A relationship that started in lies would never survive.

She had the uneasy feeling that she was going to be forced to choose between the safe place she’d made for herself at Tremmel-Bowen and Adam. The tightening in her gut told her the day was closer than she wanted it to be.

Seven

“I don’t know why we have to hide from the world,” he said.

He wouldn’t understand. But she wasn’t one of the glamorous women he was always seen with. Everyone would take one look at them and know she wasn’t meant to be on his arm.

“Please, Adam. I don’t want to share what we have found together. They’ll think I’m your mistress.” And she was, wasn’t she?

“Okay, Grace. For you.”

The voices moved on down the hallway and he stared down at her. She knew that something had changed between them in those few moments.

Excerpt from “Adam’s Mistress” by Stephanie Grace

Adam had never enjoyed a hockey game more. Though Grace knew little about the sport, she learned quickly. Normally he would have been annoyed but wasn’t surprised to find that with Grace he wasn’t.

They were sitting alone in the luxury box that Adam shared. The box had a wet bar staffed by an arena worker plus two TV monitors so they wouldn’t miss any of the action they might not catch from the bird’s-eye view through the huge bay window that overlooked the arena. Adam had asked that one TV be tuned to CNN so he could keep track of Viper lead singer Stevie Taylor, who was Larry King’s guest for the evening.

“I’ve never really gotten into professional sports,” Grace said as the game reached the end of the second quarter.

“My dad was a huge hockey fan. We went to every Stars game, even the away ones.”

“What was he like? I know he was big on community involvement, and the community-service program he established at Tremmel-Bowen is one of the things that really makes us stand out from other schools.”

Adam noticed that Grace never forgot about the school or her commitment to it. He wished there was a way for Malcolm to see this side of Grace. So he’d understand that just because Dawn had made him look like a chump, the school didn’t need to be closed down.

“He was a good man like you said, big on community involvement, but he also made sure that he had time for me. My folks were in their forties and well established before I came along.”

“I didn’t realize that. Were you a very spoiled only child?”

“To some extent. Not in material things.” It had been a long time since he’d really thought about his parents and his childhood. He’d pushed those memories away at twenty-five and had been afraid to look back and see if he’d fooled himself into believing that the love they’d showered on him had been a lie.

“I never had a lot of material things, either,” she said quietly.

“Are you an only child? I thought there were some pictures on your mantel of some other people your age. I assumed they were siblings.”

She flushed and looked away, reaching over to pick up her soda cup she took a long swallow. What was she hiding about her family?

He already had the impression that she hadn’t had a very nice upbringing. He sensed that the key to figuring this woman out lay in her past. After all, the things he was hiding all stemmed from that one incident. That one comment that had shaped his life from twenty-five forward and made him question everything that had gone on before.

“Tell me,” he said, wanting her to trust him. He didn’t question why gaining her trust was so important. He only knew that with Grace it was one of the things he wouldn’t compromise on.

“Tell you what?”

“Whatever it is about those pictures that made you turn several interesting shades of red.”

“I’m going to sound like a loser,” she said.

He cupped the back of her neck and drew her toward him, leaning down to kiss her. To tell her with his embrace that he believed in her. “Never.”

“I don’t know what to do with you,” she said. The words sounded like a confession and he knew to some extent they were.

Because he’d read the words she’d written. He’d returned her story to her office and noticed it had disappeared from her desk. He’d sat in her chair in her home office and imagined her writing there, having sexy dreams about him.

He lifted his head and rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. Touching her was an addiction. A craving that never really left him.

“Tell me,” he said again.

She wrapped her small hand around his wrist, turned her face into his hand, breathing deeply and keeping her eyes closed.

“They are pictures of … Well, I don’t spend a lot of holidays with my father and those are photos taken with other people’s families.”

He felt a punch in his gut. She had more hidden depths than he’d realized and he had no idea if he knew how to sort them out. Why did he even want to?

The answer was simple and easy. He wanted to be her hero. He wanted to be worthy of the fantasies she’d weaved about him. He wanted to be the kind of man she’d still look up to when she knew him well.

Instead, he was stuck with being the man he’d always been. Someone who took one look around him when the going got rough and then packed his bags and looked for a different challenge. One that wasn’t personal. One that didn’t really affect him.

But it was too late where Grace was concerned. He liked the personal connection they had.

She watched him with her wide, sad eyes, waiting for him to say something.

“No one’s life is picture perfect,” he said, trying to share with her what he’d learned in the last fifteen years. How he’d struggled to come to terms with having his entire life turn out to be a lie. Not a malicious one, but a lie nonetheless.

“I don’t want perfection,” she said. She shifted away from him, wrapping her arms around her own waist.

He didn’t want her to soothe herself when he was right there and more than willing to offer her comfort. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body.

“I’ve got to go to the restroom,” she said.

He guessed she was just using it as an excuse but got to his feet. “I’ll show you where they are.”

Adam was easy to follow as they moved through the arena hallway toward the restrooms. Since this was a Platinum Club floor there wasn’t a lot of foot traffic. She knew asking to go to the bathroom was lame and had avoidance written all over it, but Adam had been pushing too hard and she was about to just give in and tell him another one of her secrets. Peel away another layer of her carefully crafted facade and bare her soul.

She didn’t want to get into a heavy conversation. She’d been having fun. Having a normal date and, somehow, she’d blundered and ruined it.

“You don’t have to wait for me. I can find my way back to the box.”

“I don’t mind.”

She ducked into the ladies’ room. When she came back out she glanced around for him. The hallway was a little more crowded now. For a second she couldn’t find him and wondered if he’d gone back without her. She started that way when she felt his heavy hand on her shoulder. He drew her to a stop.

“I’m not going to stop asking you questions about those pictures.”

“I’m making it into too big a deal. Really it’s nothing. A group of teachers and I have a wine and supper club. There are twelve of us and we take turns hosting the monthly dinner. The last time they were at my place someone commented on the fact that I had no family snapshots anywhere.”

“So you started displaying photos taken with other people’s families?”

“Yes. Until then, I never noticed that I didn’t have any photos and other people had them. I’m not one for looking back.”

“Yet you crave roots.”

“That’s different. I just want to have a place I belong. I don’t need decades of ancestry for that.”

A couple brushed past them, oblivious to the world. They had their arms around each other. She realized it would be easy to look at them and assume life was simple for them—and maybe it was.

She always wanted relationships to fall into nice, straightforward categories. The work relationships she had with Bruce and the teachers on her staff. The mentoring role she had with her students. But she couldn’t put an easy label on Adam. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man.

It was a weakness to want him. Because he didn’t fit into the safe boxes that others did and she had the feeling he never would. He was never going to be someone she felt completely comfortable with.

“Let’s go back to our box,” he said, cupping his hand under her elbow and leading her back to the stairs. She couldn’t read his expression but had the distinct impression that he was angry.

“Adam?”

They stopped walking and turned. Grace wanted to groan out loud when she saw Sue-Ellen Hanshaw. Of course she always looked well put-together and made Grace feel every bit the small-town poor kid she’d always been.

She suspected the other woman didn’t do it intentionally. Sue-Ellen definitely put her kids and family first, which Grace could admire.

“Hi, Sue-Ellen, enjoying the game?”

“I am. I thought I saw you earlier with Grace.”

Wasn’t she clever?

“Adam was just giving me a quick lesson in hockey.”

“Where are you two sitting?” Sue-Ellen asked.

“Up in one of the private boxes.” Adam’s tone didn’t broker an invitation to join them.

“Do you have other guests?”

Sue-Ellen sounded suspicious. With each question Grace felt her skin get tighter. She wanted to disappear—heck, if she hadn’t been running away from Adam’s questions, they’d never have seen Sue-Ellen.

“No. It’s just the two of us,” Adam said.

“Is that wise?”

“We’ve been discussing the school,” Grace said quickly. “Did you hear Adam has arranged for a few celebrities to come play in the charity basketball tournament to raise money for the school’s gym?”

Sue-Ellen smiled and the expression almost reached her eyes. “Thank you, Adam, for doing that.”

“It was no problem. To be honest, it was Christian’s idea.”

Sue-Ellen’s son was one of the many students who were working hard to keep the school going.

“I think he had an ulterior motive. He’s a huge Bottle Rocket fan,” Sue-Ellen said, naming one of the bands on Adam’s record label. She was being friendly, but Grace sensed disapproval under the surface.

Grace knew practically his entire artist base thanks to some time spent on the Internet. She wasn’t surprised to hear that Sue-Ellen’s son, a junior, had come up with the idea. She wondered if Sue-Ellen realized how badly her son wanted the school to stay open. If she knew how much the changes in their personal lives over the last two years had affected her son.

“It was a great suggestion,” Grace said.