Sweet Fortune

to you, but having trust and physical attraction between yourself and a man is about as good as it gets. A lot of women never get that much. What are you holding out for?”
    “I don't know,” Jessie whispered.
    The office door opened and Elizabeth ambled into the room. Her brown hair was anchored with two colorful clips and her glasses were slightly askew on her small nose.
    “Hi, everybody. What's going on?”
    “Hi, Elizabeth.” Jessie blinked back the remaining moisture in her eyes. “I'm just sitting here sobbing my heart out for no good reason.”
    “PMS, huh?”
    Constance groaned. “This is what comes of sex education in the schools.”
    “I didn't hear about that at school. I heard about it from you,” Elizabeth informed her mother. She sauntered over to Jessie. “I bet you're crying on account of Hatch, aren't you?”
    “Afraid so,” Jessie said.
    “Why don't you just punch him out instead?”
    “That would probably be a much more satisfying approach to the problem,” Jessie said. “But he happens to be a lot bigger than I am.”
    “I don't think he'd hit you back,” Elizabeth said, thoughtful. “At least, not very hard.”
    “Of course he wouldn't hit me back. Which is exactly why I can't start pounding on him,” Jessie explained patiently. “It wouldn't be fair, you see. He couldn't retaliate in the same way.”
    “So what does that leave?” Elizabeth asked.
    “I don't know,” Jessie said. “I'm still trying to figure that out.”
    “What it leaves,” Lilian said deliberately, “is common sense.”
    Constance smiled. “We know you'll do the right thing, dear. You always have.”

    Somewhere halfway across the bridge it came to Jessie that what she wanted from Sam Hatchard was proof that he could love her enough to choose her over Benedict Fasteners or anything else on the face of the planet if it ever came to that.
    But Constance and Lilian were right. It was totally unrealistic to even contemplate such a scenario. What could she do? Tell him she would marry him if he walked away from the business arrangement he'd made with her father? That would be blackmail. Even if he did it, he would be disgusted with her for demanding such a sacrifice when there was no legitimate need for it. And she would be disgusted with herself for doing it.
    As she had told Elizabeth, a woman had to fight fair.
    A small, distinct sense of dread washed over her. There was a dark gray fog lying just beyond the edge of her awareness, as if the future held some bleak danger.
    If this was what it was like to have premonitions or intuition or some other psychic ability, Jessie decided, she did not care for the sensation.

    Hatch let himself warily into Jessie's apartment at eight o'clock that evening. He was not certain what kind of welcome to expect after the scene that had taken place in the hall outside Vincent's office door that afternoon.
    He got a strong hint about what was in store when Jessie barely glanced up from the couch where she lay reading a book.
    “Hi,” she said without looking up from her book.
    “Hello.” Hatch closed the door and set down his briefcase. He noticed the lights were off in the kitchen. “Did you want to go out to get a bite to eat?”
    “I already ate an hour ago. I told you, I don't serve dinner this late.”
    “I see.” Hatch realized he was starving. “Any leftovers?”
    “It was ravioli again. You weren't here, so I ate the whole package. You can't expect me to hold dinner for you, Hatch. Not when you don't even bother to call and let me know you'll be late.”
    Hatch felt a wave of chagrin. “I don't think of eight o'clock as being real late.”
    “I do.”
    “It's been a long time since I had to call home to tell someone I'd be late for dinner. Guess I'm out of the habit.”
    “Uh-huh. Well, don't let it worry you.” Jessie turned the page in her book. “You don't have to account for all your time to me. We're just sleeping together. It's not like we're married or anything.”
    “You're really pissed about this, aren't you?”
    “No, just realistic.”
    He winced inwardly and walked over to the couch to stand looking down at her. “Would it help if I said it won't happen again?”
    She slanted him an uncertain look out of the corner of her eye. She was obviously taken aback by the offer. “Is that a promise?”
    He hunkered down beside her, not touching her. “It's a promise, Jessie.”
    She sat there gnawing on her lower lip for a while and