believe I’ve never been born!”
Her voice was deceptively quiet. “In a way, Brad,” she said, “that’s just the way it will seem.” I didn’t answer. I had no words in me.
“Anyway,” the words were a knife in my heart and her tone twisted it, “I only called to tell you that Uncle Matt was in New York on business and mentioned that he might drop by your office, if he could find the time. Good-bye, Brad.”
The phone went dead in my hand. Slowly I put it down, sank into my chair, and stared across the desk. I felt chill inside me. No more dreams, no more glory, no more ecstasy.
The intercom buzzed and I flipped the switch without putting the bottle down. “Mr. Brady is here to see you,” Mickey said.
“I can’t see him,” I said. “Send him in to Chris.” Her voice seemed startled. “But Mr. Rowan——”
“Send him in to Chris!” I shouted. “I said I can’t see him!” I slammed the switch down, cutting her off. For a moment I stared down at the intercom, while the pain inside me rose up and gorged in my throat.
Right behind the pain lay violence. My foot tingled as I kicked my chair across the room. My ears roared as I swept everything off my desk on to the floor.
The door to my office started to open. Quickly I jumped across the room, holding it shut. Mickey’s voice came anxiously through it. “Brad, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”
I leaned against the door, breathing heavily. “I’m all right,” I gasped. “Go away.” “But——”
“I’m okay,” I insisted, “Go away!”
I could hear her footsteps leaving the door, and then the squeak of her chair as she sat down at her desk. Quietly I turned the lock and looked back into my office.
It was a shambles. I tried to care about it but I couldn’t. It didn’t matter. I took the handkerchief from my breast pocket and wiped my face. I could feel the damp sweat of nausea on my cheeks. I crossed the room and opened the window.
The cold air came running into the room and the nausea went away. For a long time I stood there looking over the city. You’re a dope, I told myself. You’re acting like a teenage kid. You got everything you ever wanted in this world. Money. Position. Respect. What more do you want? No dame is that important.
That was it. No dame was that important. I knew that all the time. That’s what I always said. I closed the window and walked back through the office. I sat down on the couch and leaned back against the cushions. I was tired and beat so I closed my eyes—and she jumped back into the room.
I could feel the softness of her hair, see the gentle curve of her smile, hear the sweetness in her voice. I rolled over and buried my face in the cushions until I could hardly breathe. But it was no good.
I punched my hand into the cushions to drive her face away. I opened my eyes but she was still in the room, just out of sight.
I got to my feet defiantly. I was shouting now. “Go away! Don’t bother me!” I shut up guiltily as my voice bounced back in the empty room.
Chapter Sixteen
AS I checked past the desk in my club, I asked the clerk if there had been any calls for me.
He checked the call sheet. “No, Mr. Rowan.”
I went on up to my room. I had told Marge last night that I would be in town late on business and would stay over at the club. I felt dog-tired and beat. I decided to head for the steam room, then get me a rub-down and shower.
I lay flat on the rubbing table while Sam worked out the kinks in me. I rested my hand on my arms.
Sam was a good workman. He had strong, soothing hands and soon I could feel the tension in me easing.
A sharp stinging slap on my rump brought me out of my reverie. “Your shower’s ready now, Mr.
Rowan,” Sam said.
Lazily I rolled off the rubbing table. “Thanks, Sam,” I said, stepping into the shower stall. The cold water hit me and I really woke up.
Mickey had a peculiar look on her face when I came in. “Call Pete Gordy,” she
Her voice was deceptively quiet. “In a way, Brad,” she said, “that’s just the way it will seem.” I didn’t answer. I had no words in me.
“Anyway,” the words were a knife in my heart and her tone twisted it, “I only called to tell you that Uncle Matt was in New York on business and mentioned that he might drop by your office, if he could find the time. Good-bye, Brad.”
The phone went dead in my hand. Slowly I put it down, sank into my chair, and stared across the desk. I felt chill inside me. No more dreams, no more glory, no more ecstasy.
The intercom buzzed and I flipped the switch without putting the bottle down. “Mr. Brady is here to see you,” Mickey said.
“I can’t see him,” I said. “Send him in to Chris.” Her voice seemed startled. “But Mr. Rowan——”
“Send him in to Chris!” I shouted. “I said I can’t see him!” I slammed the switch down, cutting her off. For a moment I stared down at the intercom, while the pain inside me rose up and gorged in my throat.
Right behind the pain lay violence. My foot tingled as I kicked my chair across the room. My ears roared as I swept everything off my desk on to the floor.
The door to my office started to open. Quickly I jumped across the room, holding it shut. Mickey’s voice came anxiously through it. “Brad, what’s wrong? Are you all right?”
I leaned against the door, breathing heavily. “I’m all right,” I gasped. “Go away.” “But——”
“I’m okay,” I insisted, “Go away!”
I could hear her footsteps leaving the door, and then the squeak of her chair as she sat down at her desk. Quietly I turned the lock and looked back into my office.
It was a shambles. I tried to care about it but I couldn’t. It didn’t matter. I took the handkerchief from my breast pocket and wiped my face. I could feel the damp sweat of nausea on my cheeks. I crossed the room and opened the window.
The cold air came running into the room and the nausea went away. For a long time I stood there looking over the city. You’re a dope, I told myself. You’re acting like a teenage kid. You got everything you ever wanted in this world. Money. Position. Respect. What more do you want? No dame is that important.
That was it. No dame was that important. I knew that all the time. That’s what I always said. I closed the window and walked back through the office. I sat down on the couch and leaned back against the cushions. I was tired and beat so I closed my eyes—and she jumped back into the room.
I could feel the softness of her hair, see the gentle curve of her smile, hear the sweetness in her voice. I rolled over and buried my face in the cushions until I could hardly breathe. But it was no good.
I punched my hand into the cushions to drive her face away. I opened my eyes but she was still in the room, just out of sight.
I got to my feet defiantly. I was shouting now. “Go away! Don’t bother me!” I shut up guiltily as my voice bounced back in the empty room.
Chapter Sixteen
AS I checked past the desk in my club, I asked the clerk if there had been any calls for me.
He checked the call sheet. “No, Mr. Rowan.”
I went on up to my room. I had told Marge last night that I would be in town late on business and would stay over at the club. I felt dog-tired and beat. I decided to head for the steam room, then get me a rub-down and shower.
I lay flat on the rubbing table while Sam worked out the kinks in me. I rested my hand on my arms.
Sam was a good workman. He had strong, soothing hands and soon I could feel the tension in me easing.
A sharp stinging slap on my rump brought me out of my reverie. “Your shower’s ready now, Mr.
Rowan,” Sam said.
Lazily I rolled off the rubbing table. “Thanks, Sam,” I said, stepping into the shower stall. The cold water hit me and I really woke up.
Mickey had a peculiar look on her face when I came in. “Call Pete Gordy,” she
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