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family and friends. Then I sank back into the deep pillows ie of my oversized
sofa to wallow in the revelation that Jed on and Isabella had betrayed me in
the most profound way two humans could torment a third. I as  Jesus, Alex,
calm down a minute.
You can t tell from one of these pictures who this guy is, Mike said as he
went to jjthe retrieve the telltale photograph and study it again.
 That store must have sold dozens of shirts like that one, and her stores all
over the country sold hundreds more. There s no way you can say who that arm
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
belongs to on the basis of an inch of plaid material in a blown-up photograph.
Don t start with the self-pitying martyr bullshit you can t jump to any con-
 Maybe you re too fucking stupid to make conclusions at this point, Mikey, but
don t bet the farm against me on pieces of fabric and clothing. That s like
you and the Mamelukes. I have been stabbed in the back no, in the heart by
that miserable bastard. It s not just the shirt, it s everything else that s
falling into place.
 Please don t start crying on me again tonight, Cooper.
Let s look at this very care- I interrupted him again, amazed he couldn t see
that there should have been smoke coming out of my ears by this point.
 Cry? Cry? I was practically shrieking at him I now.
 Do you actually think I m going to waste any more of my very short supply of
emotion on that man? You must really have a very low opinion of me after all
this time. Don t worry, no more tears. I stood up and reached across the tab
let s grab the picture out of Mike s hand.
The section of the photo containing the man s hand and sleeved-arm represented
about three inches of surface in the enlargement. I looked at it again, hoping
that the distinctive fabric I had found so attractive the day I had gone
shopping had changed to stripes or polka dots or pink elephants.
Instead, the second glance confirmed all my fears. I lowered myself back onto
the sofa as I inspected Jed s fingers on the film fingers that had caressed my
breasts, stroked my thighs, and knew exactly how to make me respond excitedly
to their pressure and touch.
 It s not just the shirt, Mike. I didn t have to tell him out loud about
Jed s fingers. He would know what I meant just as well as I did.
 Take this away from me before I tear it in shreds, I said, handing the
painful image back to Mike.
 I could kick myself for missing all the little clues. You should have seen
the way his mouth dropped open when he got off the elevator on Saturday and
saw me standing here wearing those silk pajamas Iz had given me you know, like
the pair we saw in my bedroom when we packed up her stuff He must have thought
he was seeing a ghost. Of course, the one thing Isabella wanted that I had
provided for her: a respectable man.
 I could kill him with my bare hands.
I was out of control and Mike didn t know how to bring me back.
 Calm down, Alex. You ll wake the neighbors. A light seemed to go off in his
head when he said the word  neighbors.
 Hey, you think maybe your shrink friend is still awake at this hour?
Maybe he could come in and help-
 Help what? There s nothing wrong with me. I m just angry and pissed off and
mad and miserable and-  And maybe he should like tranquilize you or
something.
I don t know. I don t want you to hurt yourself over this.
I can t leave here with you in this condition.
 Leave David out of this. There s nothing wrong with me. No wonder I couldn t
reach Jed at the Ritz the first time I called there on Thursday. He probably
hadn t even gotten to Paris yet of course he couldn t get back here till
Saturday. That whole trip must have been just a sham to cover his rendezvous
with Isabella. I stood up and started pacing around the living room to calm
myself down. Mike and most of my other colleagues had seen the Cooper temper
in a flare-up, and most tried to avoid it. It finally occurred to me to move
toward the bar and fix myself a drink.
 Not a prayer, blondie. No drinking. C mon, let s deal with this rationally. I
should have known, too. Anybody who drank bottled water with fried clams had
to be a yuppie and an asshole. What a fucking phony.
 Oh, jeez, Mike. Worse thought. Do you think I should phone Battaglia and wake
him up at this hour? He hates to be the last to know. Oh, I think I m going to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]