I realize how tired I am only as I kick off my shoes in the foyer and lean against the front door, eyes closed, before getting up the energy to move again. Lex is here, his Jeep out front and the lights on in the back of the house. I didn’t call him to say I was running late due to a crisis with a client—Helen Murray again—but I should have. I should’ve asked him to meet me at Mateer’s or the Colony instead of here. I’ve invited Lex to dinner, but no way I can cook now; I’m way too wiped out. Part of my plan had been to go by the pier and get some fish fresh off the boat for our supper, but they were closed. Oh well. That’s why the Lord invented grilled cheese sandwiches, I guess. Walking back to the kitchen, I loosen the belt of my white slacks, pull out my silk shirt from the waistband, then unfasten the heavy gold earrings Dory gave me for my birthday, dropping them on the sideboard of the dining room. By the time I enter the kitchen, I’m half undressed, and it feels so good I decide not to even mention going to a restaurant for dinner.
