His Sugar Baby(39)
“Do I know him?”
Cathy froze for a minisecond before she resumed shredding lettuce. She cast a glance at her sister, only to meet Pam’s knowing expression. Cathy felt a sinking sensation of panic. She tried to bluff. “What makes you think it’s a guy?”
Pam shrugged. “Because I know you. You didn’t tell me anything about this friend of yours, so it’s got to be a man.” She picked up the cutting board and scraped the tomato wedges into the salad bowl that Cathy had filled. She bumped her sister’s hip with her own. “Come on, spill. Are you seeing Paul again?”
“No, I’m not dating Paul.” Cathy’s pulse had sped up. She cautioned herself to handle Pam’s curiosity casually. There was no need to get into details, details which she knew would be upsetting to her sister. With a joking air, she said, “All right, you caught me.” She shot a mock hands-off look at her sister. “You don’t know him.”
Pam raised a slender blonde brow, a slowly widening smile settling on her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s serious!”
Cathy shook her head and sighed. She should have known. After all, she knew how her sister thought. Pam was a hopeless romantic. “No, it isn’t serious. Not in the way you mean. I enjoy being with Michael. He…makes me forget how bad things are. I don’t feel so panicked when I’m with him.”
“With him?”
Pam stared at her so intently that Cathy shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Cathy waved vaguely. “You know…with him.”
Her sister’s eyes rounded to the size of gumballs. She huffed a breath. “I don’t believe this! He’s a booty call?”
Cathy let out a burst of laughter. “Actually, I’m the booty call.” She slowly grinned. It was kind of liberating to admit it. Of course, Pam would think that she was joking. She slid a sideways glance at Pam and snickered at her sister’s gaping expression. “Bet you never thought you would hear me say that!”
Pam closed her mouth. “No, I didn’t! I can’t believe that you— you!—are having an affair! Is he married?”
“Of course not!” Cathy was indignant. She mixed vinaigrette dressing in a cruet. “Give me a little more credit than that!”
Pam raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Sorry. Of course he isn’t. So? Tell me about Michael! Is he gorgeous? What does he do? How old is he? Do you have a picture?”
Cathy laughed. She deliberately evaded the spate of questions. “I thought you would be more shocked.”
Pam suddenly glared. “It’s been almost six and a half years since Rick abandoned you and Chloe. I’m glad you’ve found someone else,” she said fiercely. “I want you to be happy. If Michael makes you happy, then I’m all for him!”
Cathy shifted uncomfortably. “Michael and I—we don’t have that kind of relationship, Pam. It’s not a fairy-tale, happily-ever-after thing.”
“Right. Got it.” Pam nodded and began ticking points off of her slim fingers. “You sleep together, which means you really, really like him. A lot. And he makes you forget your troubles. And that means he is some kind of guy.” She gave a brilliant smile. “He must be terrific, Cathy. I hope it works out, I really do.”
Cathy felt all kinds of awful. While her sister had talked, a clammy sweat had broken out on her skin. She couldn’t tell her sister about the arrangement that she had with Michael. She had skated already too close to the truth, but she couldn’t let her sister believe that she was in a lasting relationship. “Pam—”
The trouble must have appeared in her expression. Pam threw up her hand. She smiled, the warmth of understanding in her clear gaze. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything or tell me any more about him. I understand. Really, I do! It’s a rough time in your life. You don’t even want to think about commitment right now. Isn’t that why you and Paul broke up?”
“Well, that was a lot of it.”
Pam nodded. “Every part of you is wrapped up with Chloe. Obviously, Michael is okay with that, so in my book, he’s a good guy. When, or if, things change between you, then you can tell me all about him. Until then, I’ll just—slowly—die of curiosity!”
Cathy laughed, feeling both relieved and saddened. “You’re the best, Pammy.” It would have been nice to have been in just the kind of relationship that her sister had described, she thought wistfully. It would have been nice to have someone that she could lean on, who wouldn’t be freaked out by her all-consuming situation, but instead would stand by her, patiently waiting for their time together. It would have been nice to have been able to look forward to a future with someone she loved.
“How long until dinner is done? Whatever you have in the oven smells great!”
“I’ll check on the chicken. Why don’t you set the table?” Cathy turned away to open the oven. Heat blasted her face, shriveling the mascara on her lashes. She popped her head back then cautiously bent forward to poke at the bubbling chicken with a fork. She didn’t like the direction of her thoughts. She tightened her lips. Sure, it was nice to fantasize, but at the end of the day, she had to be realistic. She hadn’t lied about enjoying her time with Michael. He was a skilled and often considerate lover. The sex was fantastic. But it was not enough to build a relationship, even if either of them ever decided that they did want more. She and Michael were going to end up nowhere. She closed the oven door. “I think we’ve got another quarter hour. Do you want to have the salad first?”