She glanced at her watch, thinking that it was nice of Jim to come by and wondering how soon Marc would call her. He had promised to call her that night.

But he never did. Instead, there was a telegram in the morning:

Off to Athens. Wrong time to call. All well. Pilar fine.

Marc

Brief and to the point. But why hadn’t he called? “Wrong time to call,” she read again. Wrong time. Wrong time…

The telephone broke into Deanna’s thoughts as she read Marc’s telegram again. She already knew it by heart.

“Deanna?” The bright voice jarred her out of her reverie. It was Kim Houghton. She lived only a few blocks away, but her life couldn’t have been more different. Twice married, twice divorced, eternally independent and merry and free. She had gone to art school with Deanna, but she was a major creative force in advertising now, because she had never been a very good artist. And she was Deanna’s only close woman friend.

“Hi, Kim. What’s new in your life?”

“Not much. I was in L.A. being nice to one of our new clients. The bastard is already talking about pulling the account. And it’s one of mine.” She mentioned the name of a national chain of hotels, for which she handled the advertising. “Want to have lunch?”

“I can’t. I’m tied up.”

“Doing what?” Suspicion crept into her voice. She always knew when Deanna was lying.

“A charity luncheon. I have to go.”

“Dump it. I’ll be your charity. I need some advice, I’m depressed.” Deanna laughed. Kimberly Houghton was never depressed. Even her divorces -two of them-hadn’t depressed her. She had rapidly moved on to more fertile terrain. Usually in less than a week. “Come on, love, let’s go somewhere for lunch. I need a breather from this place.”

“So do I.” Deanna looked around the blue silk-and-velvet splendor of her bedroom, trying to fight off a feeling of gloom. For an unguarded moment her voice sagged into the phone.

“What does that mean?” Kim asked.

“It means, you nosy pain in the ass, that Marc is away. Pilar left two days ago, and Marc left yesterday morning.”

“Jesus, can’t you enjoy it? You don’t often get a breather like that, with both of them gone. If I were you I’d run around the living room stark naked and call in all my friends.”

“While I was still naked, or after I got dressed?” Deanna threw her legs over the side of the chair and laughed.

“Either way. Listen, in that case, forget about lunch. How about dinner tonight?”

“That’s a deal. That way I can do some work in the studio this afternoon.”

“I thought you were going to a charity lunch.” Deanna could almost see Kim grinning. “Gotcha.”

“Go to hell.”

“Thank you. Dinner at seven at Trader Vic’s?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See ya.” She hung up, leaving Deanna with a smile. Thank God for Kim.

“You look gorgeous. New dress?” Kimberly Houghton looked up from her drink when Deanna arrived, and the two women exchanged the smile of old friends. Deanna was indeed looking lovely in a white cashmere dress that clung to all the right places and set off her dark hair and enormous green eyes.

“You don’t look so bad either.” Kim had the kind of body men loved, rich and generous and full of promise. Her blue eyes danced, and her smile dazzled everyone it took in. She still wore her hair in the short cap of blonde curls she had worn for the last twenty years. She didn’t have the startling elegance of Deanna, but she had irresistible warmth and a certain way with clothes. She always looked as though she ought to have ten men at her heels, and she usually did. Or at least one or two. Tonight she was wearing a blue velvet blazer and slacks with red silk shirt, unbuttoned dangerously low to reveal ample cleavage and a single diamond dangling enticingly on a narrow gold chain that fell neatly between her full breasts. An “eye catcher”-as though she needed any help.

Deanna ordered a drink and settled onto the seat, dropping her mink coat on a chair. Kim was neither interested in it nor impressed. She had grown up in that world and had no desires for money or mink, only for independence and good times. She always made sure she had a great deal of both.

“So what’s new? Enjoying your freedom?”

“More or less. Actually, this time I’m finding it a little hard to get used to.” Deanna sighed and took a sip of her drink.

“Jesus, as much as Marc travels, I’d think you’d be used to it by now. Besides, a little independence is good for you.”

“Probably. But he’ll be gone for three months. That seems like forever.”

“Three months? How did that happen?” Kim’s voice suddenly lost its champagne brightness, and a question appeared in her eyes.

“He has a big case going between Paris and Athens. It doesn’t make sense for him to come home in between.”

“Or for you to go over?”

“Apparently not.”

“What does that mean? Did you ask?” It was like answering to a mother. Deanna smiled as she looked at her friend.

“More or less. He’s going to be busy, and if I go over I’ll be stuck with Madame Duras.”

“Screw that.” Kim had heard all the early stories of Marc-Edouard’s indomitable mother.

“Precisely, though I didn’t put it quite that way to Marc. So, voilà, I’m by myself for the summer.”

“And hating every minute of it after only two days. Right? Right.” She answered her own question. “Why don’t you go somewhere?”

“Where?”

“Jesus, Deanna, anywhere. I’m sure Marc wouldn’t mind.”

“Probably not, but I don’t like to travel alone.” She had never had to. She had always traveled with her father, and then with Pilar and Marc. “Besides, where would I go? Jim Sullivan said Santa Barbara would be a bore.” She looked forlorn as she said it, and Kimberly laughed.

“He’s right. Poor little rich girl. How about Carmel with me, tomorrow? I have to go down to meet with a client over the weekend. You could come along for the ride.”

“That’s silly, Kim, I’d be in your way.” But for a moment, she had liked the idea. She hadn’t been to Carmel in years, and it certainly wasn’t far away, just a two-hour drive from the city.

“Why would you be in my way? I’m not having an affair with this guy for chrissake, and I’d enjoy the company. By myself, it would be a drag.”

“Not for long.” She looked pointedly at her friend, and Kim laughed.

“Please, my reputation!” She smiled broadly at Deanna then tilted her head to one side, shaking the halo of soft blonde curls. “Seriously, will you come? I’d love it.”

“I’ll see.”

“No. You’ll come. Settled? Settled.”

“Kimberly…” Deanna was starting to laugh.

“I’ll pick you up at five-thirty.” Kim grinned a victorious grin.

3

Kim honked twice as she pulled up in front of the house, and Deanna glanced through her bedroom window before picking up her bag and running down the stairs. She felt like a girl again, off on a weekend adventure with a friend. Even Kim’s car didn’t look like something a grown-up would drive. It was an ancient MG painted bright red. Deanna appeared in the doorway a moment later, wearing gray slacks and a gray turtleneck sweater, and carrying a large brown-leather bag.

“Right on time. How was your day?”

“Ghastly. Don’t ask.”

“All right. I won’t.” Instead, they spoke of everything else: Carmel, Deanna’s latest painting, Pilar and her friends.

Finally, they lapsed into comfortable silence. They were almost in Carmel when Kimberly glanced over at her friend and saw the wistful look in her eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Is that all? Hell, they ought to be worth at least five or ten cents.” She tried to laugh away her own thoughts, but Kim wasn’t fooled.

“All right. I’ll give you a dime. But let me guess. Thinking about Marc?”

“Yes.” Deanna’s voice was quiet as she looked out at the sea.

“Do you really miss him that much?” Their relationship had always puzzled Kim. It had seemed to her at first like a marriage of convenience, yet she knew it was not. Deanna loved him. Maybe too much.

Deanna looked away. “Yes, I miss him that much. Does that seem silly to you?”

“No. Admirable maybe. Something like that.”

“Why? Admirable has nothing to do with it.”

Kim laughed and shook her head. “Sweetheart, eighteen years with one man looks more than admirable to me. It’s goddamn heroic.”

Deanna grinned at her friend. “Why heroic? I love him. He’s a beautiful, intelligent, witty, charming man.” And making love with him the night before his departure had renewed something in her heart.

“Yes. He is.” Kim kept her eyes on the road as she said it, but she found herself wondering if there was more. If there was a side of Marc Duras that no one knew, a warm side, a loving side, another dimension to the man of unlimited beauty and charm. A human side that laughed and cried and was real. That would make him a man worth loving, to Kim.

“It’s going to be a very long summer.” Deanna let out a small sigh. “Tell me about this client of yours. Someone new?”

“Yes. He insisted on having this meeting in Carmel. He lives in San Francisco, but has a house here. He was on his way up from L.A. and thought this would be a more pleasant place to discuss the account.”

“How civilized.”

“Yes. Very.” Kim smiled at Deanna.

It was almost eight o’clock when they pulled up in front of the hotel. Kimberly climbed out of the MG with a shake of her curls and a glance at Deanna, pulling herself out of the car with a groan.

“Think you’ll survive? I’ll admit, this isn’t the smoothest possible chariot for traveling.”

“I’ll live.” Deanna looked around at the familiar surroundings. In the early days of their marriage, she and Marc had often come down to Carmel on weekends. They had wandered in and out of the shops, had cozy, candlelit dinners, and walked for miles on the beach. There was a bittersweet feeling to being here again, this time without him.