He did his
laundry and ironed a white linen shirt. At six, he walked into the
Regency and said to the hostess, "I'm meeting someone . . ." He looked
around for Jacky.
"Are you Oliver?"
"Yes."
"Ms. Chapelle called to say that she would be fifteen minutes late. May
I get you a drink?"
"Glenlivet, please. Rocks."
Twenty minutes later Jacky swept in, apologizing.
"No problem," Oliver said. "You look well." She was tanned and buzzing
with energy.
"Forgive my banker suit," she said. "No time to change. I talked them
into more money."
"Congratulations."
"Dinner's on me. Mmm," she said, opening a menu.
"So, how's Maryland?"
"Crab cakes are great. Weather's warmer. After that--Maine wins." She
told him about her job and the house she was buying. "And you?"
"Pretty much the same . . . I found out what a clave beat is." He
explained and she applauded. "No, like this," he said, clapping out two
bars.
"It's warm in here," she said, taking off her jacket and opening the
top two buttons of her tight blouse.
"Yes." As they talked and drank, Oliver settled in his chair, his eyes
on the opening in her blouse and the lacy rising edge of her bra.
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