Page 52 of Fallen Angel

For the first time, Poppy gives credence to the notion of sex addiction; she used to scoff when she read about the cheating male celebrities who had to go to rehab for it. But now she knows how it feels to have such an affliction. What else is this thing with Violet if not some kind of sick addiction? The truth is, Poppy finds herself craving Violet’s touch exactly like a drug. There’s something about walking into a room, having no idea what will happen or how, except the certainty that it will result in a rush of pleasure so intense and complete it will leave her body vibrating like a single nerve of ecstasy.

Poppy feels she will never get enough of watching Violet’s perfect body swathed in leather, the coldness of her wide green eyes, and the cruelty of her fingers that wield pain and pleasure in equal, complementary parts. After experiencing it, how can she be satisfied with Patricia’s plain face and soft body, her eager-to-please lovemaking that’s as predictable as her own period?

But that’s not fair. The problem is not Patricia, it’s Poppy: Why does she enjoy being yelled at in bed, called a stupid whore, smacked, deprived of sensation, told she doesn’t deserve to be fucked? What is it about her psychological makeup that makes this appealing? That’s the issue. That’s the problem.

She should delete the message. She should toss her phone in the garbage.

Instead, hands shaking, she dials into her voicemail.

Chapter Twenty-Six

It’s strange to be on a date.

Mallory and Alec have been together since college, so when they go out to eat it’s just getting food. But everything about her evening with Gavin seems to shimmer with romance, from the cute farm-to-table restaurant in Gramercy, to the buoyant conversation, to the hand-in-hand stroll back to his apartment.

Gavin’s two-bedroom is decorated with comfortable couches and rugs in earth tones, lots of wood, and just the right amount of exposed brick. But the exceptional part is his terrace. Private outdoor space is rare in Manhattan, and Mallory is impressed. She knows that Gavin works hard and is self-made. Unlike people like Billy Barton, Gavin wasn’t handed anything.

“This is amazing,” she says, sitting on a comfortable wicker chair, looking at the cityscape below.

“I’ll be right back with the wine. I figured we should stick with the reds. I have a bottle of Silver Oak I’ve been waiting to open.”

She’s happy for a few moments alone to collect her thoughts—to take her own emotional temperature. If she’s being honest with herself, as much as she’s enjoying the evening, she has mixed feelings. She misses Alec. She even feels a little guilty, even though she’s technically not cheating on him. Not cheating on him at all, she reminds herself. This is what a breakup looks like. And yes, maybe it’s a little fast to already be in the arms of someone else. But it’s not like she went online looking for someone. This thing with Gavin just happened. It was so unexpected and not ideal that she quit her job over it. She’s being a responsible adult. It’s her life! So maybe she should stop thinking so much.

Gavin returns with the wine and a cashmere blanket.

“Just in case the heater isn’t enough,” he says. Thanking him, she wraps the blanket around herself like a shawl. And with her first sip of the Napa Valley cabernet, she feels a rush of luxury and well-being.

“It’s really nice to be able to enjoy wine outside this time of year,” she says.

“I know. Some nights it’s just too cold even with the heaters, but we got lucky tonight. It helps get me through the winters, though what I’d really like to do is get a place in California and travel more during January and February if I can manage the workload at the office.”

“One thing I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Mallory says, relaxed by the wine and the seeping tiredness she’s beginning to feel. “Why did you choose divorce law?”

Gavin looks thoughtful, puts down his glass, and glances up at the stars.

“Well, as I mentioned before, I got married very young, and it quickly became evident it was a mistake.”

She nods.

“It was difficult enough to decide to end the marriage, but then the legal process made it so much worse. I thought maybe I could find a way to practice that makes divorce less … ugly. Unfortunately, there’s just no way around the fundamentally adversarial nature of the process.”

She can’t imagine getting married, never mind divorced. She wonders what his wife was like and why it didn’t work out.

She shivers.

“It’s getting cold out here,” he says, noticing. “I guess heaters have their limits.” He extends his hand to her and she stands up along with him, arranging the blanket around her shoulders so it doesn’t fall off. She knows the evening is moving to its apex, and she’s nervous and excited at the same time.

The bedroom is cozy, with a walnut sleigh bed and bookshelves. It feels like something out of a Hallmark movie, but in a good way.

“Your place is really beautiful,” she says, wondering if she should sit on the edge of the bed or just stand there or what.

“Mallory,” he says quietly.

She turns to face him.

“I have to admit that I still feel weird about this,” he says.

Mallory nods and realizes what happens next is really up to her. Gavin is sensitive to the fact that while she did quit, she’s technically his employee. So no matter how clearly she’s signaled her interest, she’s going to have to put her nervousness aside and take the lead. He can be the boss in the courtroom, but she has to call the shots in the bedroom.