make some phone calls.”
“I wasn’t talking about to night. I meant are you going to marry him?”
“He hasn’t asked me,” Helen said.
“He has, too,” Margery said.
“Well, he hasn’t asked in a while.”
“Any woman worth her salt goes after the man she wants,” Margery said. “Don’t be a fool. I’d marry him myself if I wasn’t so damn old.”
Helen thought Margery could still marry Phil. He seemed half in love with her landlady.
“I’ve got a few other things on my mind right now,” Helen said.
“Yeah, well, don’t let a live one like Phil get away.”
“While pursuing my dead ex?” Helen said.
CHAPTER 10
Yesterday, Helen left the Superior Club in handcuffs.
This morning, she came back in a neatly pressed uniform and a crisp white blouse. Inside she felt worn, wilted and afraid. She dreaded opening the mahogany doors to the customer care office. If her colleagues cold-shouldered her, Helen would have to find another job. Even a lawyer like Gabe Accomac couldn’t make them want to work with her.
She heard the angry shrilling of the phones. Cam was ignoring his ringing phone and cleaning his desk with alcohol spray. Xaviera was talking on her cell to her boyfriend. She gave Helen a friendly wave.
Jackie was writing down some convoluted complaint and chanting into the phone, “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Jessica was finishing a phone apology. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said. She hung up as Helen slid into her desk chair.
“Did you hear the latest scandal?” Jessica said.
I’m the latest scandal, Helen thought. But she was wrong.
“Mr. Casabella was caught with a hooker at the Superior Club restaurant last night.” Jessica’s eyes were wide with actressy wonder.
“No,” Helen said.
“Yes. They were having sex in the men’s restroom. The handicapped stall.”
“Yuck. There’s a romantic spot,” Helen said.
“Here’s the best part: Solange was at the restaurant. The waitress told me all about it. Solange was having dinner with four members of the Old Guard, trying to reassure them that the Superior Club had not lowered its standards. They’d finished dinner and were drinking coffee—no after-dinner brandy for that bunch—when the members started in criticizing the club. One said, ‘Your new policies are bringing in a crude clientele with whom we do not wish to associate.’ ”
“Definitely Superior people,” Helen said. “They’d never end a sentence with a preposition.”
“Solange told them, ‘Those were just summer people. Our regulars are a different class. Now that the summer people are gone you’ll see a completely different tone.’
“ ‘This club admits too many NOKs,’ the second member said.”
“What’s an NOK?” Helen said.
“Not our kind,” Jessica said. “A third member said, ‘Some of them didn’t even wear jackets at dinner in the Superior Club.’
“ ‘The club remains a Superior place for Superior people,’ Solange said, as two huge security guards charged through the restaurant door.
They burst into the men’s restroom. Everyone could hear the loud argument. Then security marched a disheveled young blonde and a grinning Mr. Casabella out of the restaurant. The woman barely looked twenty. And she was barely dressed. It was clear what had been going on. Mr. C’s zipper was down.”
“What did Solange do?”
“She pointed out that Mr. C was wearing a jacket. Then she offered the Old Guard a free dessert. They turned her down.”
“A club member refused free food?” Helen found that more astonishing than sex in the restroom.
“All four of them. They left the club immediately and turned in their resignation papers this morning.” She pointed to a three-foot stack on Cam’s desk. “It’s part of a growing trend.”
“I thought Mr. Ironton wanted rid of the old members,” Helen said.
“He’s succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.”
“What’s
“I wasn’t talking about to night. I meant are you going to marry him?”
“He hasn’t asked me,” Helen said.
“He has, too,” Margery said.
“Well, he hasn’t asked in a while.”
“Any woman worth her salt goes after the man she wants,” Margery said. “Don’t be a fool. I’d marry him myself if I wasn’t so damn old.”
Helen thought Margery could still marry Phil. He seemed half in love with her landlady.
“I’ve got a few other things on my mind right now,” Helen said.
“Yeah, well, don’t let a live one like Phil get away.”
“While pursuing my dead ex?” Helen said.
CHAPTER 10
Yesterday, Helen left the Superior Club in handcuffs.
This morning, she came back in a neatly pressed uniform and a crisp white blouse. Inside she felt worn, wilted and afraid. She dreaded opening the mahogany doors to the customer care office. If her colleagues cold-shouldered her, Helen would have to find another job. Even a lawyer like Gabe Accomac couldn’t make them want to work with her.
She heard the angry shrilling of the phones. Cam was ignoring his ringing phone and cleaning his desk with alcohol spray. Xaviera was talking on her cell to her boyfriend. She gave Helen a friendly wave.
Jackie was writing down some convoluted complaint and chanting into the phone, “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Jessica was finishing a phone apology. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” she said. She hung up as Helen slid into her desk chair.
“Did you hear the latest scandal?” Jessica said.
I’m the latest scandal, Helen thought. But she was wrong.
“Mr. Casabella was caught with a hooker at the Superior Club restaurant last night.” Jessica’s eyes were wide with actressy wonder.
“No,” Helen said.
“Yes. They were having sex in the men’s restroom. The handicapped stall.”
“Yuck. There’s a romantic spot,” Helen said.
“Here’s the best part: Solange was at the restaurant. The waitress told me all about it. Solange was having dinner with four members of the Old Guard, trying to reassure them that the Superior Club had not lowered its standards. They’d finished dinner and were drinking coffee—no after-dinner brandy for that bunch—when the members started in criticizing the club. One said, ‘Your new policies are bringing in a crude clientele with whom we do not wish to associate.’ ”
“Definitely Superior people,” Helen said. “They’d never end a sentence with a preposition.”
“Solange told them, ‘Those were just summer people. Our regulars are a different class. Now that the summer people are gone you’ll see a completely different tone.’
“ ‘This club admits too many NOKs,’ the second member said.”
“What’s an NOK?” Helen said.
“Not our kind,” Jessica said. “A third member said, ‘Some of them didn’t even wear jackets at dinner in the Superior Club.’
“ ‘The club remains a Superior place for Superior people,’ Solange said, as two huge security guards charged through the restaurant door.
They burst into the men’s restroom. Everyone could hear the loud argument. Then security marched a disheveled young blonde and a grinning Mr. Casabella out of the restaurant. The woman barely looked twenty. And she was barely dressed. It was clear what had been going on. Mr. C’s zipper was down.”
“What did Solange do?”
“She pointed out that Mr. C was wearing a jacket. Then she offered the Old Guard a free dessert. They turned her down.”
“A club member refused free food?” Helen found that more astonishing than sex in the restroom.
“All four of them. They left the club immediately and turned in their resignation papers this morning.” She pointed to a three-foot stack on Cam’s desk. “It’s part of a growing trend.”
“I thought Mr. Ironton wanted rid of the old members,” Helen said.
“He’s succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.”
“What’s
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