Read Online Cancel All Our Vows by John D. MacDonald - Free Book Online
Authors: John D. MacDonald
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spots, don’t you? I keep wondering that myself. Give me time. Maybe I’ll grow up. Move over. My turn.”
They played doggedly and in silence. He won a little,but not enough to catch her. At last she was down to her last quarter.
“Last one,” she said. “Kiss for luck?”
Her perfume had an odd spicy flavor. Her hand was on the machine lever. He took her hand and pulled her quickly, almost harshly, into his arms. In his arms, with his lips driving down hard against hers, she felt neither frail nor fragile to him. She felt almost sturdy, and exceedingly alive. They swayed and bumped awkwardly against the slot machine. He released her. She was looking at him intently. “I meant the quarter, not me.”
“There are germs on money.”
“You just babble on, don’t you? Open your mouth and out comes bright sayings. Don’t you get tired?”
“It was a stupid thing to do and I’m sorry. I don’t go around doing things like that.”
She smiled. “I go around clawing big chunks of meat out of people who try it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“And I’m not entirely sure why, Fletcher. What are we getting into?”
“Nothing.”
“Repeat. Nothing. But it rocked me. It curled my stupid toes, and I have the horrid feeling that a bra strap popped. It shouldn’t rock me, Fletcher.”
“Nor me. Not on such short acquaintance.”
“There you go again.”
“I insist on a few clichés, for God’s sake.”
“Okay. Wipe your mouth. Let’s see if the magic spell worked.” She put the coin in the slot. “Put your hand over mine and we’ll both pull the handle.”
Somehow he had a feeling what was going to happen even as the handle was going down. He guessed that she did too. For while the wheels were still spinning, she reached down and picked up the front of her skirt and made a place for the coins which would overflow the scoop.
He saw the first bar snap into place, and the second, and at last the third. The machine made an agonized clanking, and then the coins showered down, overflowing the scoop, cascading into her skirt.
She looked at him with an odd expression. “That star-marks us, Fletcher. That marks us good.”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“You owe me five.”
“With that lapful you still want five?”
“I play for a lot of reasons, and I always play for keeps, Up with the five.”
He followed her slim straight legs as she went up the narrow stairs, holding the wealth in the yellow skirt. Ellis said, at the head of the stairs, “Oh, here you are? Good luck, I see.”
“All kinds of luck,” Laura said.
“I’ll bet,” Jane said a bit grimly. Fletcher resented her tone, but felt guilty.
Chapter Five
Fletcher drove slowly back home from the club, through the hot night and the empty streets. Jane sat far over on her side of the front seat, sat in her party dress, sat with a silence that made him dread the inevitable quarrel, yet angered him just enough so that in some curious fashion he found he was looking forward to it It was very late. Nearly quarter to three.
Usually she chattered brightly on the way home from such an event. From time to time she lifted a cigarette slowly to her lips. The street lamps swept across her calm face in regular cadence.
It was going to be a bad one, he knew. There hadn’t been a bad one since … since that trip he had made to Chicago in forty-eight. It had been a damn fool trip. He and Stanley Forman had gone out there to look over a small company which made thermostats with the idea of working out a merger agreement, based on a stock transfer. In the company offices Fletcher Wyant had shed his coat and dug into their figures. It took him three days to find the padded inventory figures, the falsified raw material position. He had said nothing to them, had spoken quietly to Stanley when he had a chance.
“Rigged books, Stanley.”
Stanley had given him a sleepy look. “Thought so. Which is worse, Fletch, cheating or being so stupid you
They played doggedly and in silence. He won a little,but not enough to catch her. At last she was down to her last quarter.
“Last one,” she said. “Kiss for luck?”
Her perfume had an odd spicy flavor. Her hand was on the machine lever. He took her hand and pulled her quickly, almost harshly, into his arms. In his arms, with his lips driving down hard against hers, she felt neither frail nor fragile to him. She felt almost sturdy, and exceedingly alive. They swayed and bumped awkwardly against the slot machine. He released her. She was looking at him intently. “I meant the quarter, not me.”
“There are germs on money.”
“You just babble on, don’t you? Open your mouth and out comes bright sayings. Don’t you get tired?”
“It was a stupid thing to do and I’m sorry. I don’t go around doing things like that.”
She smiled. “I go around clawing big chunks of meat out of people who try it.”
“But you didn’t.”
“And I’m not entirely sure why, Fletcher. What are we getting into?”
“Nothing.”
“Repeat. Nothing. But it rocked me. It curled my stupid toes, and I have the horrid feeling that a bra strap popped. It shouldn’t rock me, Fletcher.”
“Nor me. Not on such short acquaintance.”
“There you go again.”
“I insist on a few clichés, for God’s sake.”
“Okay. Wipe your mouth. Let’s see if the magic spell worked.” She put the coin in the slot. “Put your hand over mine and we’ll both pull the handle.”
Somehow he had a feeling what was going to happen even as the handle was going down. He guessed that she did too. For while the wheels were still spinning, she reached down and picked up the front of her skirt and made a place for the coins which would overflow the scoop.
He saw the first bar snap into place, and the second, and at last the third. The machine made an agonized clanking, and then the coins showered down, overflowing the scoop, cascading into her skirt.
She looked at him with an odd expression. “That star-marks us, Fletcher. That marks us good.”
“Don’t get carried away.”
“You owe me five.”
“With that lapful you still want five?”
“I play for a lot of reasons, and I always play for keeps, Up with the five.”
He followed her slim straight legs as she went up the narrow stairs, holding the wealth in the yellow skirt. Ellis said, at the head of the stairs, “Oh, here you are? Good luck, I see.”
“All kinds of luck,” Laura said.
“I’ll bet,” Jane said a bit grimly. Fletcher resented her tone, but felt guilty.
Chapter Five
Fletcher drove slowly back home from the club, through the hot night and the empty streets. Jane sat far over on her side of the front seat, sat in her party dress, sat with a silence that made him dread the inevitable quarrel, yet angered him just enough so that in some curious fashion he found he was looking forward to it It was very late. Nearly quarter to three.
Usually she chattered brightly on the way home from such an event. From time to time she lifted a cigarette slowly to her lips. The street lamps swept across her calm face in regular cadence.
It was going to be a bad one, he knew. There hadn’t been a bad one since … since that trip he had made to Chicago in forty-eight. It had been a damn fool trip. He and Stanley Forman had gone out there to look over a small company which made thermostats with the idea of working out a merger agreement, based on a stock transfer. In the company offices Fletcher Wyant had shed his coat and dug into their figures. It took him three days to find the padded inventory figures, the falsified raw material position. He had said nothing to them, had spoken quietly to Stanley when he had a chance.
“Rigged books, Stanley.”
Stanley had given him a sleepy look. “Thought so. Which is worse, Fletch, cheating or being so stupid you
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