shadowy tableau of acrobatic flesh. She closed the door. Jared Bollinger had a well-toned backside and muscular shoulders. Also, Molly Seth kept her bra on during sex. Sunny thought with a pang of her lovely blue tunic and the new skirt she’d left on the bed, now almost certainly under siege. Apparently everyone was going to get some action tonight but her, including her clothes. She stood outside the closed door, barefoot and dripping in her towel. This was exactly what she deserved for hanging around this place all day. Now what was she supposed to do? Drive home in a towel? She should have known. She did know. This was precisely the sort of predicament any association with Anna Wilson was bound to produce. She was lucky she wasn’t in jail.
Sunny trudged downstairs to the bedroom where she’d showered earlier. All was silence except for the thump of house music from upstairs. She rinsed off in the shower and turned down thebed. The decor offered plenty of understated luxury, but the room was otherwise empty. Nothing to read. No radio, no television. Her cell phone was out by the pool. And now she didn’t even have any clothes. And she’d passed up a golden opportunity to become a swinger. Rivka was going to have a good laugh when she told her. She looked around at the mostly bare room. There was too much alcohol and not enough reading material in this house. Her beach bag was here, but there was nothing much in it unless she wanted to read the label on a tin of Altoids, which she did, only to find the room lurched and heaved like a rowboat at sea. Thoroughly sauced. Far too sauced to drive home. Thanks to her own doing, she was a prisoner of Oliver Seth’s country house until morning.
French doors at one end of the room opened onto a tiny patio enclosed by a low hedge. She closed the curtains and hunted for her watch in her beach bag. One-fifteen. She put it on the nightstand, lay back on one of the pristine pillows, reflected that she was probably the first to have done so, and fell asleep.
----
Sunny woke up suddenly, not sure why, listening. The muffled sound of loud voices came from upstairs. A door slammed, then slammed again. More raised voices. One high, one low. Sunny went to the door and stuck her head out into the hallway, where the house seemed perfectly silent. She went back inside, pulled open the curtains, and opened one of the French doors. The voices sounded like they were just a few feet away. The master bedroom Anna and Oliver slept in would be almost directly above hers. Anna was saying, “I can’t believe I trusted you,” over and over. Finally she shrieked the words one at a time.
“Keep your voice down. We have guests,” said Oliver.
“I don’t care who hears me.”
“I do. If you want to make a scene, do it somewhere else. I won’t have a hysterical display in my house.”
“If you think I’m going to keep quiet about this, you’re crazy. I forwarded copies of those e-mails to myself and I intend to share them. I don’t see why your precious ex-girlfriend, for one, shouldn’t know what you’re up to.”
“Are you threatening me? You may want to take a moment to consider who you’re dealing with.”
“Even the all-powerful Oliver Seth can’t control everything,” said Anna. “You can’t control me. I’ll do whatever the hell I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Anna, be serious.” His voice was forceful but calm. “There’s plenty I can do about it. You have no idea. Among other options, I could sue you for invasion of privacy and extortion. Do you have money—not counting my credit card, of course—to defend yourself?”
“This is what I think of you and your credit card and your sleazy lawyers.” There was a thump and a crash, then silence.
“Invasion of privacy, extortion, and willful destruction of private property. That piece was worth more than you’ve made in your lifetime.”
“Get away from me.”
“You need to calm
Sunny trudged downstairs to the bedroom where she’d showered earlier. All was silence except for the thump of house music from upstairs. She rinsed off in the shower and turned down thebed. The decor offered plenty of understated luxury, but the room was otherwise empty. Nothing to read. No radio, no television. Her cell phone was out by the pool. And now she didn’t even have any clothes. And she’d passed up a golden opportunity to become a swinger. Rivka was going to have a good laugh when she told her. She looked around at the mostly bare room. There was too much alcohol and not enough reading material in this house. Her beach bag was here, but there was nothing much in it unless she wanted to read the label on a tin of Altoids, which she did, only to find the room lurched and heaved like a rowboat at sea. Thoroughly sauced. Far too sauced to drive home. Thanks to her own doing, she was a prisoner of Oliver Seth’s country house until morning.
French doors at one end of the room opened onto a tiny patio enclosed by a low hedge. She closed the curtains and hunted for her watch in her beach bag. One-fifteen. She put it on the nightstand, lay back on one of the pristine pillows, reflected that she was probably the first to have done so, and fell asleep.
----
Sunny woke up suddenly, not sure why, listening. The muffled sound of loud voices came from upstairs. A door slammed, then slammed again. More raised voices. One high, one low. Sunny went to the door and stuck her head out into the hallway, where the house seemed perfectly silent. She went back inside, pulled open the curtains, and opened one of the French doors. The voices sounded like they were just a few feet away. The master bedroom Anna and Oliver slept in would be almost directly above hers. Anna was saying, “I can’t believe I trusted you,” over and over. Finally she shrieked the words one at a time.
“Keep your voice down. We have guests,” said Oliver.
“I don’t care who hears me.”
“I do. If you want to make a scene, do it somewhere else. I won’t have a hysterical display in my house.”
“If you think I’m going to keep quiet about this, you’re crazy. I forwarded copies of those e-mails to myself and I intend to share them. I don’t see why your precious ex-girlfriend, for one, shouldn’t know what you’re up to.”
“Are you threatening me? You may want to take a moment to consider who you’re dealing with.”
“Even the all-powerful Oliver Seth can’t control everything,” said Anna. “You can’t control me. I’ll do whatever the hell I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Anna, be serious.” His voice was forceful but calm. “There’s plenty I can do about it. You have no idea. Among other options, I could sue you for invasion of privacy and extortion. Do you have money—not counting my credit card, of course—to defend yourself?”
“This is what I think of you and your credit card and your sleazy lawyers.” There was a thump and a crash, then silence.
“Invasion of privacy, extortion, and willful destruction of private property. That piece was worth more than you’ve made in your lifetime.”
“Get away from me.”
“You need to calm
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