Love With A Younger Man by Candy Caine Page A

never regret it.
    Selling the Sterling estate was indeed a triumph. The 50 acre estate overlooking the Potomac River had been on the market for about a year. Not only did I make a cool $250,000 commission, but it also proved how far I’d come. I beat out a half-dozen other realtors for this prize and wanted to shout out from the top of the highest mountain, “Hey world, take a good look at me now.” Instead, I had to be satisfied with a celebration dinner at a fine restaurant with Geoffrey Cole—the guy I’d been seeing for a little more than a year.
    No one knew about my past. I’d spent many years reinventing myself so I could pass muster with the business elite. However, even now, during the culmination of my success, I still feared that someone would see me for the person I really was underneath the fine, expensive silk designer suits I wore.
    I left work early in order to get ready for that evening. I wanted to look as good as I felt. After my shower, I traded my conservative navy-blue suit for a sexy, red silk dress I’d gotten for just such a special occasion. It made my caramel-colored skin glow, and I left my long, black hair loose down my back just the way Geoffrey liked it. I had my doorman call a cab for me, and I was ready to celebrate.
    Geoffrey was at the table waiting for me when I arrived. He was dressed in a tailored, charcoal-gray, pinstriped suit. He held his cell phone against his ear, revealing the gold Rolex on his wrist. He was speaking sharply to the person on the other end. With his free hand, he motioned for me to sit down. He ended his conversation a moment later with his stock, “No excuses. Just get it done!” In business, he was a no-nonsense kind of guy. He hadn’t built a most sought-after multi-million dollar advertising agency by being Mr. Nice.
    He rose from his chair and came over to kiss me on the cheek. “Sorry about the call, darling. Problems with an account.”
    The waiter, dressed in an evening jacket, walked over to the table and handed us each a menu. “My name is Mark, and I will be your server for the evening. Would either of you care for a drink?”
    Looking at me, Geoffrey said, “I believe that champagne is in order.”
    “Right away, sir.”
    “Now do tell me what the big secret is.”
    “I sold the Sterling estate.”
    “How much commission will you get?”
    “$250,000.”
    He whistled. “How does it feel to win the proverbial brass ring?”
    You’ll never know how terrific . “As if I’m sitting on top of the world, especially because I worked so hard for it.”
    “Well, congratulations!” he said, just before his phone chirped again.
    How I hated that phone. He excused himself and answered. The call, lasting less than three minutes, angered him. Obviously, whoever was on the other end conducting the business transaction wasn’t too successful. Geoffrey didn’t keep unsuccessful people in his organization long. I found myself feeling sorry for whomever he was chastising.
    The waiter had brought the champagne over while Geoffrey was on the phone and started to remove the cork. Geoffrey rudely barked at him to just leave the bottle.
    When the phone call ended, I spoke up. “Sweetheart, why don’t you shut your phone off and let this be our night?”
    “You know I can’t very well do that now with such delicate negotiations going on.”
    “Really? It sounded more like a one-sided shouting match.”
    “You sound angry.”
    “Only because the calls are distressing you.”
    “They’ll be over soon,” he stated, as he popped the cork and poured us both a glass of champagne.
    Before or after they totally ruin this meal? I thought.
    We were sipping our champagne and perusing the menu when Geoffrey’s cell phone chirped again. This did turn out to be the very last call, and it put an end to our dinner entirely.
    “Incompetent fool!” Geoffrey shouted into the phone, annoying everyone around us. “Can’t you do anything right? Sit tight. I’ll