Pretense by Lori Wick

they're older, but not now."
    "The salary's good."
    Marrell shook her head. "It doesn't matter."
    Shay pulled a face but then smiled. "I can see I'll never convince you. I guess I'll just have to offer you an espresso."
    Marrell laughed at her change of thought and rose to follow her to the kitchen. This room was another surprise. It looked as if Shay enjoyed cooking. Marrell did not expect that. The architect
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    had shelves of cookbooks, and pots and pans hung everywhere. As if it were an everyday occurrence, she pulled forth an espresso machine and began the process. Marrell felt immediately out of her element. She'd never had an espresso and wasn't sure she would like it. From the little Marrell had seen of San Francisco, she suspected Shay fit right in. She wasn't sure she ever would.
    "Do you like espresso?" Shay suddenly asked her.
    "I don't know," Marrell answered honestly, and Shay looked at her for a long moment.
    "It's easy to see why you're happy, Marrell." Her voice was so serious that the other woman blinked.
    "Why is that?"
    "Your honesty. Anyone that straightforward has nothing to hide."
    "You make it sound like you do."
    Shay stared at her for a moment and then down at the machine. "I'm not as happy as I'd like you to believe." Shay wasn't prepared to go on, but when she looked up, Marrell's look was one of such compassion that she blurted the rest out.
    "My therapist! It's getting serious between us, and I don't know what to do."
    "You don't want to be married again?"
    Shay looked utterly miserable as she said, "He's already married."
    Marrell did nothing to hide her disapproval. "You can't do that, Shay, and that's the end of it."
    "I don't even know why I'm telling you all of this," she suddenly burst out. "We don't even know each other anymore."
    "We'll always know each other," Marrell insisted, "and besides that, you know what's right and wrong. Put yourself in his wife's shoes. How do you think it will make her feel?"
    "I know how it will make her feel," Shay replied dully. "Marty already did it to me."
    Marrell could have wept on the spot. "Turn that machine off," she ordered quietly. "Come back to the living room."
    Expecting to be followed, Marrell walked out. Her voice was the one she used when the girls needed help but any comfort would dissolve them to tears. She had a few things to say to her friend, and she would say them even if they got her kicked out
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    the front door. They took their original seats, and Marrell speared Shay with her eyes.
    "You will call this man today and tell him you can't see him anymore. If he won't take you at your word, you change your phone number. If he has a key to this place, you get the locks changed. You can't do this, Sharon. It's wrong, and you know it is. You can call me naive or say I'm not progressive, but I know the type of thing that can destroy a person, and you're right in the middle of it."
    "I don't know if I can do that." Tears had come to Shay's eyes but were not spilling over.
    "Yes, you can. Have you been intimate with him?" The question was fired like a shot.
    "No, but we're going away next weekend together."
    "Cancel it, Shay. Tell him you've changed your mind." Marrell's hand slashed through the air. "What kind of man takes advantage of his client? That's completely unprofessional."
    "But he's helped me so much." Her voice was that of a lost child.
    "Maybe he has, Shay," Marrell said, her voice softening as well, "but this is clearly wrong, or you wouldn't have told me you're not as happy as you'd like me to believe."
    Shay lost it then. Marrell watched as her friend sobbed into her hands. She had come today not knowing what to expect but hoping they could renew their friendship. Never would she have imagined this. Marrell slipped across the rug then and knelt by Shay's chair. She rubbed her friend's arm and spoke with soft conviction.
    "Right now it feels horrible, Shay, but it's the right thing to do. You don't want a man, no matter how