folded on the tabletop.
Here we are.
I wondered why I was being so coy. I had decided long ago that barring something unpleasant, we would go to my room and have sex. Did I wish to appear reticent, when in fact I was eager. Was it protective or merely a silly hangover, my mother whispering in my ear. Be careful…. don’t let them take advantage…. I smiled at Tony.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.
“What a very good idea,” he said.
14
W E LAY ON top of the covers, propped with pillows, naked in the warm California night, with the air-conditioning on low. We were both tired, and very postcoital.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Tony said to me.
“No need to grade each other,” I said.
“True,” Tony said. “But good is good.”
“My ex-husband used to say the worst sex he ever had was great.”
“A valid point,” Tony said. “How is the ex?”
“Married,” I said.
“Whoops,” Tony said.
“Big whoops.”
“Well, it does clarify your relationship,” Tony said. “Would you like to get married again?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I try to just take things as they come.”
“Clever phrase,” Tony said. “Given the moment.”
I smiled.
“I don’t think about getting married,” I said, “or not getting married.”
“Do you wish to marry me?” Tony said.
“No.”
“Nor I you,” Tony said. “Makes things simple.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have to worry if we love each other or can trust each other. That kind of thing.”
“We don’t love each other,” I said. “And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
“No. But we can have a nice time together every couple of years.”
“We’re deeply in like,” I said.
“Anybody else in your life?” Tony said.
“Men?”
“Yes.”
“Not really,” I said.
“Any prospects?”
“I don’t think that way,” I said. “I just try to take it as it comes…so to speak.”
We lay quietly for a time, our shoulders and hips touching.
“Do you care if I spend the night?” Tony said after a time.
“Yes,” I said.
Tony turned his head to look at me. I thought there was a hint of dismay in his look.
“You do?”
“Yes. I don’t want you to.”
“You don’t?”
“And you don’t want to,” I said.
“I know,” he said, “but a lot of women get hung up on that.”
“So they won’t feel like slam, bam, thank you ma’am,” I said. “I know. But I don’t feel that way.”
“You don’t mind being slam, bam?” Tony said.
“Not as much as I mind having to sleep in the same bed with somebody I don’t know terribly well,” I said. “And dragging out of bed in the morning looking like shit, and having to share the bathroom and make small talk while I’m trying to get my face on.”
“God bless you, Sunny Randall,” Tony said.
We lay quiet for another moment.
Then Tony said, “What I’ll do is, I’ll go home and maybe come by in the morning and have breakfast with you before you go see Erin Flint’s former representation.”
“That will be lovely,” I said. “The breakfasts here are excellent.”
“Everything here is excellent,” Tony said.
I gave him a little bump with my hip where it touched his.
“Before you go,” I said, “would you, perhaps, like a little something for the road?”
“That sounds good,” Tony said. “Let’s see if I’m up to it.”
We rolled toward each other and put our arms around each other again and kissed again. We pressed against each other. After a moment, I spoke, with my lips brushing his.
“Oh good,” I said softly. “You are up to it.”
Tony ran his hand gently down the curve of my back.
“A hard man,” Tony murmured, with his mouth against mine, “is good to find.”
We both giggled about that for a while.
And then we didn’t.
15
E RIN’S FORMER AGENT had an office on the second floor of a two-story stucco building on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica a few blocks east of 7th Street. She was a very thin woman in her early
Here we are.
I wondered why I was being so coy. I had decided long ago that barring something unpleasant, we would go to my room and have sex. Did I wish to appear reticent, when in fact I was eager. Was it protective or merely a silly hangover, my mother whispering in my ear. Be careful…. don’t let them take advantage…. I smiled at Tony.
“Let’s go upstairs,” I said.
“What a very good idea,” he said.
14
W E LAY ON top of the covers, propped with pillows, naked in the warm California night, with the air-conditioning on low. We were both tired, and very postcoital.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Tony said to me.
“No need to grade each other,” I said.
“True,” Tony said. “But good is good.”
“My ex-husband used to say the worst sex he ever had was great.”
“A valid point,” Tony said. “How is the ex?”
“Married,” I said.
“Whoops,” Tony said.
“Big whoops.”
“Well, it does clarify your relationship,” Tony said. “Would you like to get married again?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I try to just take things as they come.”
“Clever phrase,” Tony said. “Given the moment.”
I smiled.
“I don’t think about getting married,” I said, “or not getting married.”
“Do you wish to marry me?” Tony said.
“No.”
“Nor I you,” Tony said. “Makes things simple.”
“Yes.”
“We don’t have to worry if we love each other or can trust each other. That kind of thing.”
“We don’t love each other,” I said. “And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
“No. But we can have a nice time together every couple of years.”
“We’re deeply in like,” I said.
“Anybody else in your life?” Tony said.
“Men?”
“Yes.”
“Not really,” I said.
“Any prospects?”
“I don’t think that way,” I said. “I just try to take it as it comes…so to speak.”
We lay quietly for a time, our shoulders and hips touching.
“Do you care if I spend the night?” Tony said after a time.
“Yes,” I said.
Tony turned his head to look at me. I thought there was a hint of dismay in his look.
“You do?”
“Yes. I don’t want you to.”
“You don’t?”
“And you don’t want to,” I said.
“I know,” he said, “but a lot of women get hung up on that.”
“So they won’t feel like slam, bam, thank you ma’am,” I said. “I know. But I don’t feel that way.”
“You don’t mind being slam, bam?” Tony said.
“Not as much as I mind having to sleep in the same bed with somebody I don’t know terribly well,” I said. “And dragging out of bed in the morning looking like shit, and having to share the bathroom and make small talk while I’m trying to get my face on.”
“God bless you, Sunny Randall,” Tony said.
We lay quiet for another moment.
Then Tony said, “What I’ll do is, I’ll go home and maybe come by in the morning and have breakfast with you before you go see Erin Flint’s former representation.”
“That will be lovely,” I said. “The breakfasts here are excellent.”
“Everything here is excellent,” Tony said.
I gave him a little bump with my hip where it touched his.
“Before you go,” I said, “would you, perhaps, like a little something for the road?”
“That sounds good,” Tony said. “Let’s see if I’m up to it.”
We rolled toward each other and put our arms around each other again and kissed again. We pressed against each other. After a moment, I spoke, with my lips brushing his.
“Oh good,” I said softly. “You are up to it.”
Tony ran his hand gently down the curve of my back.
“A hard man,” Tony murmured, with his mouth against mine, “is good to find.”
We both giggled about that for a while.
And then we didn’t.
15
E RIN’S FORMER AGENT had an office on the second floor of a two-story stucco building on Montana Avenue in Santa Monica a few blocks east of 7th Street. She was a very thin woman in her early
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