Chapter 9

The next morning, Greg woke up at about seven o'clock. Megan was still sleeping, curled in a ball, so he got up quietly. To avoid disturbing her, he took his shower in the washroom down the hall rather than the en suite in the bedroom. He cleared away the uneaten supper from the night before and rustled up a breakfast of sorts. He took his breakfast to his office on the second floor. He reasoned that he'd be able to hear movement in the bedroom directly overhead and maybe even get some work done. After choking down eggs and toast, he poured himself another cup of coffee and called his office. His assistant answered on the second ring. "Northern Lights Productions," she said.

Greg smiled. He should have known she'd be the first one in the office. "Good morning, Sally," he said. "I won't be in this morning. Maybe not at all today. Megan is ill."

"Oh, poor Megan," Sally said. "Nothing serious, I hope."

"No, I'm sure she'll be better tomorrow. In case anyone needs me, they can call my cell or send me an email." After the usual pleasantries, Greg hung up and dialed Megan's office. He left a message on the voice mail, identifying himself and saying that Megan wouldn't be at work today. Then he turned his attention to the pile of scripts in front of him.

Greg got through five scripts and two pots of coffee. He stood up, stretched and yawned. The clock read 10:30. He thought that he'd like more coffee, but he'd already had more than his quota for the day. He picked up the coffee carafe and his cup and turned to take them downstairs to the kitchen. Just then, he heard movement from above. He put down his burden and rushed upstairs. When he got to the bedroom, he heard water running in the washroom. The door opened and Megan came in. She padded over to Greg and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry about last night," she said. "From what I remember, I made a real ass of myself."

Greg held her. He smiled down at his love. "The only ass that I see in this room," he said, "is a thing of rare beauty." He stroked her cute little bum. Her nudity and the feeling of her in his arms was having its usual effect. He could feel his cock beginning to stir. "Down, Roscoe," he thought, "this isn't the right time for fun and games."

"You're the best man in the world," Megan said. "I don't deserve you. No woman does. And I seem to remember your asking me to marry you last night. Did you?"

"No," he said, "I didn't. I might have, but you told me not to. I try to do what my lady tells me."

Megan said, her voice muffled against his shirt, "Yeah. Last night wasn't the right time. Maybe today isn't, either." She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "Don't get me wrong. I really want to marry you. I love you and want to spend my life with you. But I can't marry you under these circumstances. I just can't."