was practiced and charming. Her makeup, hair styling and dress design were carefully planned to enhance every good feature.
"Trav, dear, let's drink to dreary rich women like poor Terry. And to Sunday afternoons in October. And to finding new friends."
"And to privacy."
She made a rueful face. "That lovely thing which I ain't got. I really have to be alone a little while every day. It renews me, you know? I pity people who haven't enough resources to be able to be by themselves. In that huge apartment, I lock myself in my room and think and read. I read a great deal. It's the only way we have to lead more lives than one."
"That's a very interesting way of putting it, Bonita."
She arranged her face into a pretty little frown of thought. "I suppose we all feel trapped in one life. Sometimes it makes one want to do mad mad things. It's dreary to be circumspect all the time."
"Think up a madness."
"Sure," she said. She made her cold eyes sparkle. "Take a cab right now, to Idlewild. Buy a toothbrush, fly to Florida, and go off on your boat and hide away in the islands."
"I'll go check the flights."
"Darling, I do wish I could. I really do. But sometimes we all have to settle for a little less, don't we?"
It was a very personal voice. It was good for nuances. She was beginning to make me feel like a juicy bug on the end of a handy twig. Any minute now the sticky tongue would flick out and snare me and yank me into that greedy maw. She was managing it with great skill. She had fed me most of my lines.
"What will you settle for, Bonita?"
"Another drink, dear."
"That's a very minor request."
"Everything is relative, Trav. Everything should be sufficient to the moment, don't you think?"
"It seldom is."
"That's because most people never know exactly what they want. It's a great blessing, to always know exactly what you want."
"Do you?"
"You still didn't order that drink."
After I did, she said, "Will you be in town long?"
"Another few days. A week. Maybe a little more."
"Are you staying with friends?" I named my hotel. She looked disapproving. "Those new ones are so characterless."
"And completely anonymous. I like that kind of privacy."
"Are the rooms really nice? I picture them as little white boxes."
"They're quite comfortable."
She glanced down for a fraction of a second, and I knew that she had opened that jeweled watch. Her lips tightened slightly. I was being a dull pupil. I wondered if she'd take me by the ear and lead me, bellowing, back to my hotel room. She had the hunger, she had set the scene, and she was pressed for time. But I had suddenly forgotten my lines.
I saw her begin to wonder if I found her unattractive. The thought disturbed her. I had to take her off the hook. "I wish I could see that apartment you used to have."
"But I had to give it up, dear. It broke my heart. All my precious things in storage. And I can't show you the apartment where I live now. I'm… not really in a position to have guests. Surely you understand."
"Of course, Bonita." I was beginning to have a difficult time relating her to conspiracy, to large-scale theft, to possible murder. She was clear-eyed and healthy. The long round pale throat had a look of grace and strength. She was fragrant and purposeful, and she knew how to use her eyes and mouth to maximum effect.
She sat there, humid and intent, leaning slightly forward, with a tilted smile, planted firmly on those glossy needful hips, readied for any opportunity to rationalize a brief Sunday afternoon liaison as a bit of enchanting October madness, concealing with a hasty jerry-built scaffolding of romance the plain vulgar structure of itch.
Her living arrangement had deprived her, apparently, and though she was more accustomed to the leisurely pursuits fashioned about the precious little apartment, she was obviously willing to gratify herself in a more casual fashion when opportunity arose. And, because of Terry, I had a suitable cachet.
Once a reasonably
"Trav, dear, let's drink to dreary rich women like poor Terry. And to Sunday afternoons in October. And to finding new friends."
"And to privacy."
She made a rueful face. "That lovely thing which I ain't got. I really have to be alone a little while every day. It renews me, you know? I pity people who haven't enough resources to be able to be by themselves. In that huge apartment, I lock myself in my room and think and read. I read a great deal. It's the only way we have to lead more lives than one."
"That's a very interesting way of putting it, Bonita."
She arranged her face into a pretty little frown of thought. "I suppose we all feel trapped in one life. Sometimes it makes one want to do mad mad things. It's dreary to be circumspect all the time."
"Think up a madness."
"Sure," she said. She made her cold eyes sparkle. "Take a cab right now, to Idlewild. Buy a toothbrush, fly to Florida, and go off on your boat and hide away in the islands."
"I'll go check the flights."
"Darling, I do wish I could. I really do. But sometimes we all have to settle for a little less, don't we?"
It was a very personal voice. It was good for nuances. She was beginning to make me feel like a juicy bug on the end of a handy twig. Any minute now the sticky tongue would flick out and snare me and yank me into that greedy maw. She was managing it with great skill. She had fed me most of my lines.
"What will you settle for, Bonita?"
"Another drink, dear."
"That's a very minor request."
"Everything is relative, Trav. Everything should be sufficient to the moment, don't you think?"
"It seldom is."
"That's because most people never know exactly what they want. It's a great blessing, to always know exactly what you want."
"Do you?"
"You still didn't order that drink."
After I did, she said, "Will you be in town long?"
"Another few days. A week. Maybe a little more."
"Are you staying with friends?" I named my hotel. She looked disapproving. "Those new ones are so characterless."
"And completely anonymous. I like that kind of privacy."
"Are the rooms really nice? I picture them as little white boxes."
"They're quite comfortable."
She glanced down for a fraction of a second, and I knew that she had opened that jeweled watch. Her lips tightened slightly. I was being a dull pupil. I wondered if she'd take me by the ear and lead me, bellowing, back to my hotel room. She had the hunger, she had set the scene, and she was pressed for time. But I had suddenly forgotten my lines.
I saw her begin to wonder if I found her unattractive. The thought disturbed her. I had to take her off the hook. "I wish I could see that apartment you used to have."
"But I had to give it up, dear. It broke my heart. All my precious things in storage. And I can't show you the apartment where I live now. I'm… not really in a position to have guests. Surely you understand."
"Of course, Bonita." I was beginning to have a difficult time relating her to conspiracy, to large-scale theft, to possible murder. She was clear-eyed and healthy. The long round pale throat had a look of grace and strength. She was fragrant and purposeful, and she knew how to use her eyes and mouth to maximum effect.
She sat there, humid and intent, leaning slightly forward, with a tilted smile, planted firmly on those glossy needful hips, readied for any opportunity to rationalize a brief Sunday afternoon liaison as a bit of enchanting October madness, concealing with a hasty jerry-built scaffolding of romance the plain vulgar structure of itch.
Her living arrangement had deprived her, apparently, and though she was more accustomed to the leisurely pursuits fashioned about the precious little apartment, she was obviously willing to gratify herself in a more casual fashion when opportunity arose. And, because of Terry, I had a suitable cachet.
Once a reasonably
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