He barely lifted his head. 'Pretty mature display, huh?'

'Could have been way worse. I wouldn't lose any sleep over it.'

'I think I'd have to get some to lose it.'

'Well, when you do.'

She'd known Jonas for a little over three years, since he and Elaine had first become an item, and although over time he had ceased to be among her favorite people, early on they had bonded as co-conspirators. This was because in the first few months of dating between her black activist boss and her white doctor boyfriend, the relationship had been extremely clandestine – secret meetings in hotel rooms, daytime trysts where Treya would loan them her apartment, lunch in this room at the firm.

All this was before Elaine had been ready to commit, and Treya hadn't been able to blame her, though at first, before she'd seen his ego and tantrums and selfishness, she did feel for the pressure it put on Jonas.

As the daughter of a prominent African-American US senator, Elaine had been informally claimed by the Bay Area black community as one of its new generation of leaders. The political side of her – she did, after all, have her mother's blood – loved it. In the first couple of years after she left the DA's office, she had been squired around to her fundraising appearances and campaign dinners by a succession of high-visibility black men. Over the years, the Chronicle's society column had linked her romantically with not a few of her clients, with a city supervisor, with a running back for the 49ers, with a co-anchor on one of the nightly news programs.

Elaine had liked each of them for various reasons, though none of these or several other boyfriends had lasted more than a couple of months. This wasn't a matter of much concern to her – she'd been in love once when she was younger and she knew what it felt like, and it wasn't this. She assumed it would only be a matter of time before she met the right man again, and then she would marry him and settle down.

Working at Rand and Jackman, speaking at neighborhood organizations, black business seminars, inner city development projects, she was leading a full, busy life that only rarely intersected with the white community.

Treya knew that Elaine didn't think much about this segregation. It was simply a fact of her life. She had no strong prejudice against white people – the man who'd raised her, Dana Wager, had been white – but except for formal gatherings, there was little opportunity to meet anyone, socially or otherwise, who wasn't black.

Then she came down with a stomach ache that sharpened and deepened – right side, localized – over a two-day period. On the third morning, she was at her desk trying to work when Treya came in with some papers and gently brushed against her. Elaine screamed, nearly blacking out from the pain as her appendix burst. The fever peaked at 104.

Jonas was the emergency room surgeon, and he saved her life.

But in the first months, Elaine didn't trust the feeling. It wasn't at all like the earlier, star-crossed love she'd experienced with Chris Locke, the older, married District Attorney. No, Jonas was young, brilliant, sexy. And the feeling, she'd confided to Treya, was nothing like anything else – it was much better. In fact, she thought, it was too good to last.

And since it would have to end, Elaine was at first afraid to threaten her standing in the community over a few moments of passion. Terrified of losing clients, clout, and credibility, she wanted to keep the affair hidden until it blew over, as it surely would.

But it didn't.

They went public, and despite Elaine's concerns, the whole race thing turned out to be pretty much a non-issue. About the only fallout she'd experienced at all was that she'd lost a jihad-oriented Islamic student she'd been mentoring, and that Elaine had come to view as a blessing. Finally, a year ago, she and Jonas had announced their engagement.

Treya, for her part, certainly understood the original attraction. Jonas had movie-star looks and projected a super-confident maleness that was undeniable. She hadn't been completely immune to it herself on some level. But after she got to know him, she wasn't completely thrilled that this man had been Elaine's life choice.

His world, she discovered, revolved entirely around himself and his work. During the courtship rush, he'd made time for Elaine whenever he could, but when that ended – once he'd won her love and commitment – he reverted to his old schedule and his main passion, which from Treya's perspective was himself.

She told herself that maybe she was being unfair. And to be truthful, Elaine really didn't seem to mind. They both worked long hours under great pressure. Obviously, they had reached some accommodation where stolen late-night hours or a rare weekend when Jonas could get away was enough for both of them. Each was, in their own way, a trophy, a catch – Treya understood that this was no small part of it for either of them. Maybe they were a true match – two narcissists locked in a centrifugal dance around the image each admired. But that really wasn't the Elaine that Treya knew.

Treya couldn't imagine standing for it herself. When Jonas missed a dinner or a movie or a show because he was in surgery, when he never made it home because of some hospital emergency, Elaine seemed to deal with it. But if it was her, if she got hung up at work and had to cancel out on one of his events…

Treya remembered the first time she'd seen it. She had left a message for Jonas that Elaine was in a deposition that was running very late. She and Jonas had been due to go to LA for some medical convention and Elaine was going to have to catch a later flight. She would miss the introductions, the cocktail party. She'd try to make it down by the next morning at the latest. Jonas had shown up in front of Treya's desk in a fury. It was as though he'd never met her before, as if they'd never plotted together to find a quiet place he and Elaine could meet. If the deposition had been taking place in one of the offices at Rand and Jackman, she had no doubt he would have broken into the room, interrupting the proceedings. But she'd told him, untruthfully, she really didn't know where Elaine was working. 'Well, find her,' he'd snapped at her.

After that, Treya had never felt the same about Jonas Walsh.

Afterwards, of course, he'd apologized, told Treya he'd been under a lot of stress, yack yack yack. But she saw it from him, heard about it from Elaine, too many other times. Even today, the lunch they'd just left – Jonas unwilling even to listen. He knew the truth. It was obvious. Everybody should just stop wasting his precious time.

But for some reason, Elaine had put up with it, even apologized for him. 'He's under a ton of pressure every day, Trey. Life and death stuff. You watch, after we start a family, he'll get his priorities straight. He's got a great heart.'

Now Treya looked across at the dejected figure and in spite of their differences, she felt for him, as she felt for herself. The world as they both knew it had ended, and neither felt ready to move on. A gust of wind slapped at the window, and they heard the beginning of rain.

His hand was still resting over his eyes, his face half hidden. The voice came out guttural, low enough – almost – to be distant thunder. 'She was talking about leaving me,' he said.

Though she'd heard him clearly, the truth of it didn't seem to register right away. She would not have believed it possible that Elaine had come close to making that decision and kept it from her. 'I'm sorry, what?'

'You didn't know?' Now he did look over. 'She really didn't tell you?'

'Are you joking?'

'Am I joking?' He shook his head. 'She told me she hadn't told anybody yet. I didn't believe her.'

Treya sat back, stunned by the news. 'She didn't tell me,' she said simply. Then added. 'She never even said she was unhappy.'