“I'd love to meet them sometime. When do you go on your camping trip?”

“In about two weeks.” He smiled. “Actually, we're driving up to Lake Tahoe, via Santa Barbara, San Francisco, and the Napa Valley. Then we'll camp for five days when we get there.”

“It sounds like a very civilized trip.” She had expected something a lot more rugged.

“I have to do it that way. Too much fresh air comes as a shock to my system.”

“Do you play tennis?” she asked hesitantly. It wasn't that she was comparing them, but she was curious. With Steven, it was almost a fixation.

“If you can call it that,” he apologized. “I'm not very good.”

“Neither am I.” She laughed, longing for another piece of apple pie, but she didn't dare go and get it. He was going to think she was a real pig if she ate any more, but the whole dinner had been delicious. The “cleaning-up” crew was putting things away, and it had grown dark as they sat by the pool. The crowd had thinned out even more, but she was enjoying his company and she hated to leave, although she was beginning to think that she should. And then suddenly, high in the sky, the fireworks began. They were being set off in a park nearby and they were beautiful as everyone stopped and watched, and Adrian watched, too, like a delighted child, as Bill smiled at her. She was so beautiful, and so warm and so gentle. She looked like a little girl with her face turned up to the sky, but a very pretty one, and he had an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He had had that urge before, but it was becoming more acute each time he saw her.

The show went on for half an hour and exploded finally with a wild shower of red, white, and blue that went on and on and on, seemingly forever. And then the sky went dark again, with only the stars high above, and the black powder left from the fireworks and the little wisps of smoke falling slowly to earth, as Bill sat close to her and caught a whiff of her perfume. It was Chanel No. 19 and he liked it.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” he asked hesitantly, not sure how proper it was for him even to ask her. But they could be friends after all. As long as he controlled himself, there was no real reason why they couldn't be together. “I thought maybe you'd like to go to the beach or something,” since she had already told him that she liked beaches.

“I …well …I'm not sure …my husband might be coming home …” She was embarrassed, and yet she wanted to go, and she wasn't sure how to handle the invitation.

“I thought he was in New York … or Chicago …until next week. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I'm very respectable. And it's better than sitting around here all weekend, as long as you're not working. We could go down to Malibu, I have friends who let me use a house there. They live in New York, and they just keep the place for the hell of it. I keep an eye on it for them. You'd enjoy it.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him, not sure why she was doing it. But there was something irresistibly comfortable and appealing about the man, and she stood up then, and prepared to go back to her own apartment. “I'd like that.”

“Does eleven sound about right?”

She nodded. It sounded perfect. But also a little scary. “I'll walk you back to your place.” He had taken the apron off long since, and he looked nice as he walked her back to her town house. And when she got to her front door, she unlocked it carefully, and opened it just a crack without turning the light on. She didn't want him to see how empty her place was.

“Thanks a lot, Bill. I had a wonderful time. Thank you for inviting me tonight.” It was a lot better than sitting at home, feeling sorry for herself and wondering what Steven was doing.

“I had a good time too.” He smiled, feeling happy and relaxed and contented. “I'll come by tomorrow around eleven.”

“That's all right. I can meet you at the pool.”

“You don't need to do that. I'll pick you up here.” He sounded firm and she looked nervous, as she prepared to leap through her front door before he could look inside it.

“Thanks again.” She gave him a last look, and then suddenly disappeared, like an apparition. One minute she was standing in front of him, and the next, she was inside, and the door was closed, and he wasn't sure how she'd done it. It was one of the fastest good-byes he'd ever said, and he walked slowly back to his own place, smiling.





BILL PICKED ADRIAN UP THE NEXT DAY AT PRECISELY eleven o'clock, and she was waiting outside when he came, in jeans, a big floppy shirt, a sun hat, and sneakers. And she was carrying a beach bag full of towels and creams and books and a Frisbee, and he laughed when he saw her.