Chapter 15: Eight Fifty-Five

"Yes," Leighton said into the phone. "I understand. I'll come in at noon."

He hung up and set the phone face down on the white stone, very carefully.

I stood beside him in his shirt, with his cum still warm on my thigh, and watched his face close.

I knew that look.

I had worn it at a dinner table for nine years.

"The board wants a statement," he said. "Something about disclosure. Something about whether the company can be run by a man who cannot..."

He stopped.

"Who cannot tell Sabine from you," I said.

"Yes."

"You knew me in the hall by my steps."

"I can tell you." He turned to me and looked straight at my eyes and didn't find them.

"I can't tell a stranger. I couldn't pick you out of a crowd at a train station."

He shook his head.

"You gave up a marriage and a name to be seen, Margo."

"You want to stand in the window with every light on and be looked at."

"And the man you picked to do it can't see your face."