Read Online Dumping Billy by Olivia Goldsmith - Free Book Online Page B

water,” Michael said awkwardly, and pressed the glass into her hand.
    Bina looked down at the glass. “Is there strychnine in it?” she asked without lifting her eyes.
    “Uh . . . no,” Michael replied.
    In a single smooth motion Bina dumped the water out over her shoulder and down the back of the sofa. “Then what good is it to me?” she said to no one in particular. She fell back onto the sofa and burst into a fresh batch of tears.
    “That was a gesture,” Elliot said, grabbing a napkin.
    “On Fortuny fabric,” Brice added. “This is
so
Brooklyn.”
    “I knew I’d love Brooklyn,” Elliot said.
    Kate looked up over Bina’s head and gave the two of them a warning squint, her blue eyes narrowed to lizard slits. She wondered if she could get her friend home to her own apartment, but either getting a cab or walking back with Michael seemed impossible. Better to deal with it here and then go home. But first she needed to free the frightened Michael and stare off the spectating twosome—though, to be fair, it was their own home. “I’m sorry, guys,” Kate said, looking up at the three men. “It looks like we might have to put off dessert.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Brice said. “In times of pain, nothing works better than drowning your problems in profiteroles.”
    Elliot nodded, but Michael began backing toward the door. “I think you’re right, Kate,” he agreed, relief shining from every pore. “I’ll just see myself out.” He picked up his briefcase and headed out the door into the foyer. “Have a nice evening,” he said, and closed the door behind him.
    Kate jumped up. “Just a minute, Bina,” she said, giving another narrow-eyed glance at the guys as a deterrent, and ran to the hallway. She was just in time to see Michael step into the elevator. “Hold it!” she called, got to the button, and pressed it. Michael stood in the fake mahogany cab like an insect suspended in amber. “You’re leaving like that?” she demanded.
    “Like what?” he asked, looking down at himself as if she were commenting on an unzipped fly.
    “My friend just had her life shattered and you go out the door saying, ‘Have a nice evening’?” Kate had learned not to expect too much of a date in the early stages of their mating dance, but Michael was
way
out of tempo. “Have a nice evening?” she repeated, mirroring him.
    “Kate,” Michael began, “Bina is your friend, not mine. I don’t really think it’s my place—”
    “To be what? Nice, kind, caring? Can’t you just pretend to be sensitive?”
    Kate realized she was holding him hostage and took her finger off the button. The door closed slowly across his miserable face. She turned away, hoping he would press the open button and return, at least to give her a kiss and a moment of sympathy, but the elevator door remained as smoothly closed as Michael’s emotions. She shook her head to clear it. She had to return to Bina.
    She entered the apartment and found, to her surprise, that Bina had stopped crying. She was sitting up on the sofa beside Elliot, who was holding her hand and sharing his own heartbreaks. “. . . and then he said, ‘I’m going back to my place to get my things and move in.’ I was thrilled, just thrilled, so I said, ‘Can I come and help?’ And he kissed me and said, ‘No, sweetie. It won’t take but a few hours.’ And I never saw or heard from him again.”
    Bina shook her head in mute sympathy.
    “Just as well,” Brice said. “Street trash. It’s all worked out for the best.” He kissed the top of Elliot’s head. Kate saw Bina blink.
    “Well, let me bring out the profiteroles,” Brice said, and headed for the kitchen.
    “Meanwhile I’ll get a blanket,” Elliot offered, and disappeared into the bedroom. Bina nodded gratefully to Kate.
    Kate, with nothing else left to do, sat beside her. “I’m sorry,” she said, comforting her friend now that they were alone. “You must be devastated.”
    “Oh, Katie,