Read Online Chocolates for Breakfast by Pamela Moore - Free Book Online Page B

money. Though money always helps, she added. How grubby! she thought suddenly, angrily. How grubby and obscene to be facing bankruptcy! But then, that was the price that had to be paid for living in a world of fantasy and illusion, a charming world. Maybe. She didn’t know.
    As Courtney lay in the sun beside Al Leone, she found herself thinking about Barry Cabot. She would like to know him, she would like to talk with him. It would be nice to sit beside him in the evening, during the hour that she usually walked along The Strip by herself. She was sick of solitude, she was a little frightened of it, though she did not know why. Suddenly, irrelevantly, she wondered what it would be like to kiss Barry Cabot. But that was a foolish thought; she was still a kid, and a man like Barry Cabot wouldn’t pay any attention to her. She dismissed the thought.
    â€œCourt,” said Al, “how would you like to come over to the apartment for a drink?”
    He felt sorry for the kid, sitting there so alone and thoughtful. What he said must have upset her. He should have waited until she was settled here before he sprung the bankruptcy business on her. But he was always speaking without thinking. When he had something to say, he simply said it.
    Courtney was delighted at the invitation. No one had ever asked her to have a drink with him before.
    â€œI’d love to, Al.”
    They walked across the street to Al’s apartment. As they entered, it suddenly occurred to Courtney that maybe she shouldn’t be going into a man’s apartment. Her mother had always told her not to. But then she laughed at herself because this wasn’t a man, this was Al, and she was only a kid anyway.
    When the “drink” turned out to be grapefruit juice, she felt even more foolish at her moment of hesitation. She sat across from him on the couch in the dim living room.
    â€œI hope what I said didn’t upset you, sweetie,” he said as he sipped his grapefruit juice.
    â€œNo, Al, not really. I always expect everything to be perfect, I guess, and it kind of spoiled my illusion to think that we were going to be broke, and to face a reality like that.”
    â€œChrist, kid, I thought you were the sensible member of the family. You’re sounding like your mother.”
    â€œYou know, we’re a lot more alike than you think we are.” She leaned back against the couch and stared at the ceiling with its indirect lighting. “Sometimes I wish I could leave it all—this sophistication—and be different from what I see around me.”
    â€œYou can try, Court.”
    â€œNo, it just doesn’t work. Last night, when I got back here, I realized that I couldn’t ever be different from what I had been brought up to be. Maybe if I’d been farmed out to somebody like you when I was six or so, I could have been different. Now, I’m just stuck with cocktails at eleven and breakfast at noon.”
    â€œYou sound as though you were my age.”
    â€œI’m nearly a woman, Al. If I ever had a childhood, it’s behind me now, and the kind of person I’m going to be is established whether I like it or not. I can fight it, but I’ll just wear myself out and confuse myself.” She sat up and rubbed her neck. “I’m stiff from sleeping on that plane.”
    â€œWant me to rub your neck?”
    â€œYes, I’d like that.”
    Al took his grapefruit juice and sat beside her. He put his square, brown hands on her neck and manipulated the smooth young muscles under his fingers. He could feel the tightness and concentrated on it, trying to ignore the firm, tanned body beneath his fingers. After all, Courtney was only a kid, and she trusted him.
    Courtney liked the feeling of a man rubbing her neck. She leaned against him and smiled. She liked men, and she was fond of Al. She felt a warmth, leaning against him, and she was conscious of a new feeling. This was an alive,