311 Pelican Court - Debbie Macomber [91]
And Cliff—he was a friend. Their relationship had been about companionship more than love, at least on her part.
Now she finally had the opportunity to know real love.
There was a problem, however, and to Grace, it was a major one.
Will was married.
“What about your wife?” she typed back. She couldn’t promise to meet him, couldn’t allow this relationship to continue if he remained committed to his marriage.
“I told you it was over,” Will typed.
“Georgia’s moved out?”
“Yes. I’ve already seen an attorney. The divorce is amicable. We should never have married. She understands.”
“She knows about us?” Grace’s fingers flew over the keys.
“I told her there was someone else. I didn’t say who it is.”
Grace had kept her relationship with Will a secret, too. They spoke via e-mail every day, often more than once, and occasionally they managed a phone call. It never ceased to astonish her how much they had to talk about.
The doorbell chimed and Grace glanced irritably over her shoulder. Buttercup ambled to the door, tail wagging.
“Say you’ll meet me,” Will urged, the words flashing across the screen. “I need to know as soon as possible. Promise me you’ll do everything you can.”
“I will, I promise,” Grace assured him, and with regret, dragged herself away from the computer when the bell rang a second time. Determined to get rid of whoever was there, she opened her door and stared at Cliff. She had to make an effort not to groan aloud.
“Cliff,” she said, unlatching the screen and holding the door open. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
“Surprise?” he repeated slowly. “I called last week. We made plans to spend the afternoon together.”
Grace vaguely remembered the conversation, but all that lingered in her mind was her eagerness to get off the phone so she could get back on the computer and talk to Will.
“Of course. It just slipped my mind. I’ll be ready in a minute.”
Cliff came into the living room and sat down on the sofa, frowning slightly.
“I was on the computer,” Grace explained. “Give me a moment while I get off-line.” She pulled out her desk chair and sat down. Her fingers went to the keyboard and she quickly typed out a message to Will, telling him she’d request vacation time. She wouldn’t know for another week or two if she’d get those days off, but with all her heart she hoped it would happen. Then she explained that she had company and needed to end their conversation.
When she’d finished, Grace whirled around in her chair and smiled warmly at Cliff. “You must think I’m an empty-headed dunce,” she said brightly, hoping to disguise the fact that she’d forgotten their date.
“Not at all,” he assured her evenly. But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Buttercup rested contentedly at Cliff’s side, and as he ran his fingers through her fur, he frowned again.
“I’ll get my coat and be back in a moment,” Grace promised.
It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes to grab her coat, brush her hair and apply fresh lipstick.
Cliff was still petting Buttercup when she returned. He glanced up. “When was the last time you had Buttercup at the vet?” he asked.
Grace couldn’t recall, other than the first week after she’d gotten the golden retriever. “It’s been a year or so,” she said.
“I think it might be a good idea to schedule an appointment.”
“Why?” Grace was immediately concerned. Buttercup was her constant companion and friend.
“No obvious reason, other than that she seems a bit lethargic,” Cliff said, but his brow was creased. “There might be something wrong—she doesn’t seem herself. You haven’t noticed any changes in her behavior, have you?”
“None.” Grace tried to think, but nothing came to mind. The truth was, she hurried home from work every night to leap onto the computer. She realized guiltily that she hadn’t paid much attention to the dog since her correspondence with Will had begun. Often