Usually the act required about as much time as it took
to reach the Palo Alto exit, but he had passed that turnoff miles
ago and was nearly home. No, he would have to let his desire go
unsatisfied...though instead of letting go, he indulged his
imagination anyway, a little longer, fantasizing. Had she touched
his computer while she sat there talking to him? Had she rested
her soft, pretty hand on his mouse and slipped its pointer across
the screen to his private folders, opened his files? The only
other hands as lovely as hers were those of his wife...
Were.
And with that recollection, his daydream terminated. He had
arrived at the beginning of the road that wound its way up to his
home. The car's transmission automatically down-shifted as it
climbed. And so did his mood. As if commiserating with the
machinery that had helped him reach this point, Matthew let out
an exhausted sigh.
On either side he passed huge concrete gates that fronted the
estates of some of the most powerful entrepreneurs and business
people in Silicon Valley, including Peter, whose home was only a
half-mile from his own. It had been more than six months since he
had been to Peter's home. And ever since Matthew's wife Greta had
told him more than a year ago that she did not want Peter in her
house again, Matthew and Peter spent less and less time together.
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