But there was also a whiff of
something forbidden about the relationship, something to do with his
mother again. Jacky was a little like her. It was a powerful mix.
He called her at six o'clock. "Hi, how was breakfast?"
"Hi, Oliver! Fun. Francesca's a good buddy."
"Did you tell her about me?"
"Why--no. You're my secret, Sweet; I'm keeping you to myself. Besides,
Francesca's beautiful. Men go gaga over her. She's one of these tall,
dark, silent types. Gorgeous eyes, inner fires. I'd go for her myself
if I weren't so friggin straight."
"Hallelujah!" Oliver said with feeling.
"Thank you," she said. "Poor Franny, she has a terrible marriage. Two
of the cutest little girls. Oliver, I'm hoping you will come visit. I
want to show you the Bay and feed you some proper crab cakes. The
weekend after next would be perfect."
"How far are you from Atlantic City?"
"About two hours."
"I've never been to Atlantic City," Oliver said. "I've been wanting to
see what it's like. I could drive down on Friday, see you on Saturday?
Unless you want to meet me at one of the casinos?"
"You come here," she said. "I went once and it didn't do a thing for
me.
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