The phone in his office in the Conservancy headquarters rang. Two rings, then silence. Roger Cameron lifted his head and glared at it. He hadn’t expected to hear that signal again. It was over; they’d agreed on that. Parted as they began, as friends. About that part of last night, Roger felt good.
He wasn’t sure how it had started, that thing with Sarah Martin. Some sort of insane magnetism. He loved his wife, had no intention of leaving her, couldn’t bear the idea of how hurt she would be if she discovered his infidelity. He cringed as he thought how he had rationalized the affair: Margaret, who had for years responded to his every whim, seemed to have lost interest in him. She had seemed distant at times, lost in thought, bringing more work home. There were more and more nights when she
