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“Fraser,” she says softly, “I told you what would happen if you had a relationship with another employee.”
“I know.”
“You’re an intelligent man. I thought you would have learned from your mistake.”
I don’t reply. Instead, I think of Hallie, and wonder what other outcome there could possibly have been once she broke upwith Ian. We were always going to end up in bed. It was only a matter of where and when.
“It’s different from last time,” I say instead.
She surveys me thoughtfully. When she finally confronted me about my relationship with Ginger, she asked me to be honest, and not to protect Ginger out of a misplaced sense of gallantry. She knew me too well, and understood that even though Ginger was older, I still felt the need to be the man and take the blame. But she encouraged me to open up, and we talked for a long time about how it started, who initiated the first contact, how it evolved, and about my feelings for Ginger.
It was Whina who helped me understand that it’s not always the woman who’s the victim in cases like that. That men can be seduced and led down paths they had no intention of setting foot on in the beginning. I’m not trying to absolve myself of all blame. I have a mouth and a brain—I knew it wrong, and I could have said no at any time. But she seemed to understand about passion and obsession, and how sometimes it makes you say and do things you don’t mean to.
“Tell me how it’s different,” she says.
I don’t answer.
When I look back at her, she’s frowning. She leans forward and looks at me intently.
“You know I’m very fond of you,” she says firmly. “I think of you like a son, Fraser, and I’m very disappointed with what’s happened.”
“I know.” I struggle to keep my gaze on her face and not drop it to my shoes like a schoolboy.
“I think you’re being very foolish,” she says. “Hallie’s a lovely girl, but this sounds as if it’s been a very brief fling. Is it really worth throwing away your whole career for it? Have you spoken to her about it?”
I shake my head.
“So you don’t know what she would think about you giving up your position here for her?”
I inhale, then blow out a breath. It annoys me that Whina knows how to play me. But she’s right. “She wouldn’t want that.”
“No, I didn’t think so. No decent woman would ask that of a man. How does she feel about you?”
I hesitate. Then I say, “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”
“So it’s just sex then? Fraser, you can’t throw away your career for that.”
I get up and walk over to the window. The water is a tad choppy, topped with white horses. The sun is incredibly bright, and it makes me squint where it bounces off the waves.
“It’s not just sex,” I say. “I’m in love with her.” It’s the first time I’ve admitted it to myself, and as I say the words, I realize it’s true.
“Really?”
“I have been for a long time.” I think about how I fastened my mouth on Hallie’s neck last night and told her,That’s to show everyone you’re mine. I had no right to do that. Alcohol might have played a small part. But ninety percent of it was all me. I want her. It’s not a two-night affair. This has been going on for a year, since the first time I met her. It’s why I haven’t dated anyone else since then. And it’s why, I realize now, I’ve been so frustrated, watching her being so unhappy with someone else.
But I haven’t spoken to her about it. I don’t have any idea how she feels about me. And Whina’s right. I can’t just throw my whole career away because of sex. Hallie wouldn’t want that, I’m sure. I need to talk to her about it first.
I turn and face Whina. I’m not going to talk to her about the intricacies of my relationship before I’ve spoken to Hallie.
Instead, I say, “I’m sorry about the letters. I was convinced I could talk Isabel into giving them to us, but I didn’t even come close. That is my fault, and I take full responsibility for it.”
“All right,” she says softly. “No need to throw yourself on your sword. Isabel is a difficult customer, and I suspected you might not be able to convince her. I just thought it was worth a shot.” She gets to her feet. “Thank you for telling me the whole story. Let’s take a few days to think things over. I’ve got a few avenues to explore,” she says mysteriously. “We’ll talk again on Monday. I’m busy in the morning, but maybe I could stop by around 12:30 p.m.”
“Of course.”
“Okay. Take care of yourself, Fraser. You’re a good lad.” She leaves the office.
Amused at being called a lad, I sit in my chair, lean back, and lose myself in the clouds as I think about what she said.