because he didn't think he'd stay long. And as she drove off, he waved, and went back to see his host again. For Steven, it had been a fabulous evening.
It had been less so for Adrian, and suddenly all she could think of, even in the midst of Steven's incredible opportunity, was whether or not she was pregnant. The idea tormented her all through the evening news, and she was still preoccupied on her way home, and then suddenly, with a quick swerve, she pulled into the curb and decided to stop at an all-night drugstore. Steven didn't have to know anything. She didn't have to say anything to him. But suddenly she wanted to know …and if not tonight …then sometime soon. If she bought the test now, she could do it anytime she felt brave enough. She could even do it while Steven was in Chicago.
She bought the kit and had the druggist put it in a brown paper bag that she shoved deep into her tote bag, and then she got back in the Porsche again, and drove back to their apartment.
Steven was home when she arrived, in bed, half asleep, but with a look of supreme bliss on his face. He was sure that he was on his way to Chicago to make the deal of a lifetime.
A ND IN HIS CONDOMINIUM, STARING OUT THE WINDOW into the darkness on Saturday night, William Thigpen looked anything but blissful. He had written for a while, bought Chinese takeout for himself, he had called his kids in New York, watched TV, and he was actually feeling rather lonely. It was one o'clock in the morning by then, and he decided to take a chance and call Sylvia in her room in Las Vegas. She might be back by then, and at worst, he could always leave a message. The phone rang half a dozen times, and when no one answered it, Bill waited for the message operator to come back on, and when he did, it was a man with a gravelly voice and he sounded half asleep and all he said was “Yeah?” as Bill waited.
“I want to leave a message for the party in 402,” Bill said crisply.
“This is 402,” the voice growled, “whaddya want?”
“I must have the wrong room, I'm sorry …” and then suddenly he wondered.
“… you expecting a call from somewhere?” The gravelly voice asked someone in the distance, and there were hushed exchanges with a hand over the phone, and then suddenly Sylvia was on the phone, sounding very nervous. She would have been smarter not to take the call, but she hadn't figured that out, and she knew it was probably Bill calling from L.A.
“Hi …there's been a terrible mixup,” she started to explain as Bill almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “They forgot to reserve half the rooms, and four of us are sharing.” It was beautiful. It was a story worthy of his soap opera, and he was at the center of it, feeling as though he were watching someone else's life instead of his own.
“This is ridiculous …Sylvia, what the hell is going on?” He sounded like the irate lover, but the odd thing was that he didn't feel it. He felt stupid and as though he'd been had, but the truth was he wasn't even angry. All he felt was dumb and disappointed. They'd had something pleasant for a while, but it was more than obvious now that it was over.
“I …I'm really sorry, Bill … I can't explain it just now. But everything's gotten mixed up here …I …” She was crying and he felt like a complete fool just listening to her. He had caught her in the act and he was the one who wanted to apologize for being stupid.
“Why don't we talk about it when you get back?”
“Are you going to kick me off the show?” He felt sad for her as he listened. He wasn't that kind of man, and it hurt him that she didn't know that.
“That has nothing to do with this, Sylvia. These are two separate issues.”
“Okay …I'm sorry …I'll be back Sunday night.”
“Have a good time,” he said softly, and hung up. It was over. It should never have started, but it had, because he was lazy and she had been convenient, and so goddam sexy. She was a
It had been less so for Adrian, and suddenly all she could think of, even in the midst of Steven's incredible opportunity, was whether or not she was pregnant. The idea tormented her all through the evening news, and she was still preoccupied on her way home, and then suddenly, with a quick swerve, she pulled into the curb and decided to stop at an all-night drugstore. Steven didn't have to know anything. She didn't have to say anything to him. But suddenly she wanted to know …and if not tonight …then sometime soon. If she bought the test now, she could do it anytime she felt brave enough. She could even do it while Steven was in Chicago.
She bought the kit and had the druggist put it in a brown paper bag that she shoved deep into her tote bag, and then she got back in the Porsche again, and drove back to their apartment.
Steven was home when she arrived, in bed, half asleep, but with a look of supreme bliss on his face. He was sure that he was on his way to Chicago to make the deal of a lifetime.
A ND IN HIS CONDOMINIUM, STARING OUT THE WINDOW into the darkness on Saturday night, William Thigpen looked anything but blissful. He had written for a while, bought Chinese takeout for himself, he had called his kids in New York, watched TV, and he was actually feeling rather lonely. It was one o'clock in the morning by then, and he decided to take a chance and call Sylvia in her room in Las Vegas. She might be back by then, and at worst, he could always leave a message. The phone rang half a dozen times, and when no one answered it, Bill waited for the message operator to come back on, and when he did, it was a man with a gravelly voice and he sounded half asleep and all he said was “Yeah?” as Bill waited.
“I want to leave a message for the party in 402,” Bill said crisply.
“This is 402,” the voice growled, “whaddya want?”
“I must have the wrong room, I'm sorry …” and then suddenly he wondered.
“… you expecting a call from somewhere?” The gravelly voice asked someone in the distance, and there were hushed exchanges with a hand over the phone, and then suddenly Sylvia was on the phone, sounding very nervous. She would have been smarter not to take the call, but she hadn't figured that out, and she knew it was probably Bill calling from L.A.
“Hi …there's been a terrible mixup,” she started to explain as Bill almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. “They forgot to reserve half the rooms, and four of us are sharing.” It was beautiful. It was a story worthy of his soap opera, and he was at the center of it, feeling as though he were watching someone else's life instead of his own.
“This is ridiculous …Sylvia, what the hell is going on?” He sounded like the irate lover, but the odd thing was that he didn't feel it. He felt stupid and as though he'd been had, but the truth was he wasn't even angry. All he felt was dumb and disappointed. They'd had something pleasant for a while, but it was more than obvious now that it was over.
“I …I'm really sorry, Bill … I can't explain it just now. But everything's gotten mixed up here …I …” She was crying and he felt like a complete fool just listening to her. He had caught her in the act and he was the one who wanted to apologize for being stupid.
“Why don't we talk about it when you get back?”
“Are you going to kick me off the show?” He felt sad for her as he listened. He wasn't that kind of man, and it hurt him that she didn't know that.
“That has nothing to do with this, Sylvia. These are two separate issues.”
“Okay …I'm sorry …I'll be back Sunday night.”
“Have a good time,” he said softly, and hung up. It was over. It should never have started, but it had, because he was lazy and she had been convenient, and so goddam sexy. She was a
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