ou want to go to a movie Saturday afternoon, maybe
have a drink?" Her eyes opened wide. Now _she_ was surprised at
herself. Oliver blinked.

"Jesus, Jennifer. That sounds a lot like a date."

"Well--yes! Rupert is always telling me I should go out more, get out
of the house."

Oliver liked Jennifer. She was easy to be around. She was earnest in a
way that he understood. He found it hard to say no to her, which is
why, on Saturday night, he found himself on top of her while she kissed
him and pulled at his belt buckle.

He objected weakly, and she said, "I don't care. I don't _care_,
Oliver. I've never done this before. I need you." She clamped her mouth
on his and put the matter out of reach. She was as purposeful in bed as
she was in the office. She took him inside her and urged him on, as
though something might pull him away at any moment. It was fast and
satisfying. He barely registered that she was both softer and stronger
than he thought before she sighed and rolled him to one side. She had
that special full and contented woman's smile.

"That was so good," she said. She put her fingers on his lips. "Shhh.
I've got to go, now." She dressed quickly. "Will you be in on Monday?"
He nodded. She bent over him and put her hand on his chest, as if to
measure his strength while at the same time keeping him in place. She
lingered for a second. "Good night, Handsome."

"Good night." And she was gone.

The next day, Oliver stayed around the house wondering what he was
getting himself into.

On Monday, when he and Jennifer were alone, she blushed and said, "God!
That was wonderful, Oliver. But--it will just have to be a lost
weekend." She lowered and then raised her eyes. "I feel like I took
advantage."

"It was terrible," Oliver said. "There ought to be a law against it."
She threw her arms around his neck and just as quickly stepped back.
She bit her lip.

"I can't get used to you," she whispered.

"I'll be done, Wednesday," Oliver said.

That was that. A month later, he saw her with Rupert at the Maine Mall,
on the other side of the Food Court. She looked normally married and
involved in what they were doing. Oliver went in a different direction,
feeling lonely, remembering how tightly she had held him. He stopped at
Deweys. "I got back on," he informed Mark.

"Nice going. Quick work!"

"It was the linen jacket," Oliver said.

"No shit?" Mark was pleased. "There you go. This one's on me."

A few weeks