6

ON THE SAME DAY that Fiore told Joe Gaudette to let their “good friend” know he would “keep the appointment,” he was forty minutes late for a date he had with one of his partners. Their meeting was at the Hilton Hotel, two blocks north of T. F. Green International Airport in Warwick. Making his way through the lobby, he noticed on the bulletin board that two companies were hosting Christmas parties for their employees that evening. Several groups of people, drinks in hand, milled around in the open area just beyond the front desk.

Fiore took the elevator to the fourth floor. He found Room 420 at the end of the corridor to his left, and knocked. Playfully, he contorted his face and brought it as close as he could to the peephole on the door. A few moments later he heard the chain lock being released, and the door opened.

“I thought you changed your mind,” she said. There was no warmth in the greeting. She held the door while he entered, then closed it and put the safety lock back in place.

Fiore had already thrown both his raincoat and suit jacket on one of the queen-sized beds by the time she was alongside him. “I’m sorry, Carol,” he said. “I just couldn’t get out of there any sooner.” He reached for her shoulders as he spoke, but she pulled away.

She was wearing a white blouse, with a small pocket on each side set off by mother of pearl buttons. Her heavy woolen skirt was multi-pleated in a Scotch plaid, its dominant color a forest green that Fiore found very attractive. Her hair was black, cut medium length. All the features of her face seemed perfectly combined until her profile revealed a slight bump in the middle of her nose. She wore no eye shadow, but had on lipstick the color of a delicate pink rose. At five feet, eight inches tall, she was just two inches shorter than Fiore.

Carol’s voice carried a harsh tone when she answered. “Your being sorry isn’t enough. I don’t intend to be a lady in waiting for you, hanging around a hotel room until you decide to show up. If you can’t be on time, have the decency to call and let me know. Then it will be my decision whether or not to stay. Don’t think you can take me for granted just because we’re lovers.” She walked past him, over to the bed near the window, and sat down at the end of it.

Fiore loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He was there for sex, not for a fight. He was looking forward to being in bed with her, and didn’t want anything to spoil it. But he went through this sort of thing on other occasions with other women and was sure he could talk himself back into her favor. Besides, he told himself, she wants the sex as much as I do.

Doug sat next to her on the bed and spoke quietly. “Look, I know how you feel. I don’t blame you for being upset. But don’t think for a second that I’m taking you for granted, because I’m not. If you left before I got here, I would have understood completely. I would have had to rush home and take a cold shower, but that’s my problem.”

He looked at her and waited until she returned his glance and gave him a slight smile. He knew he was doing well and was confident that everything would soon be on track. “I probably wouldn’t have been more than ten minutes late,” he went on, “except that Scardino got hold of me and said he had to show me some numbers. Receivables have been God-awful the past couple of months. He wanted to know how I felt about taking out a ninety-day loan from Spalding to tide us over.”

Fiore removed the gold cuff links from his shirtsleeves. Each was in the shape of a capital “F.” He folded the starched cuffs over twice as he continued speaking. “I had my coat on and was halfway down the hall when he grabbed me. We used the conference room across from the elevator, and I figured it would take ten minutes at the most. But sometimes he has to explain his figures three different ways before I know what he’s talking about. When he finished, it was already quarter of eight. I couldn’t call you from in there because Frankie stayed and started working on some other stuff. The elevator was waiting for me when I stepped out into the reception area. I grabbed it and got over here as fast as I could.” Fiore put his hand on her left shoulder and began massaging it.

Carol waited until his fingers dug deeper into the flesh, anticipating the pleasure it would give her. “You knew I had to be home by ten o’clock tonight,” she said. “I’ve got a husband who may start wondering where I’ve been. I don’t want to feel like we’re doing something dirty when we’re together. But if there’s only enough time to get undressed, make love and rush out of here, how else can I feel?”

“You’re right,” Doug answered. “I don’t want it to be like that either.” It didn’t matter to him how long they were together as long as he got what he came for. He moved closer and started working the fingers of both hands into the soft part of her neck and around her shoulder blades. Carol bent her head forward and rested her left hand on his thigh.

“Frankie’s been putting in a lot of time at night in the office,” Doug said. “He tells me he’s got a hundred things to finish up before the end of the year. It’s no secret he’s not the smartest firm administrator in town, but at least he’s not afraid of work.”

Carol looked at him and shook her head, as if in agreement. “What’s no secret is that he’s sleeping with Janice what’s her name, Dick Birnbaum’s secretary. He hangs around at night to be with her.”

“Janice Rossman?” Fiore looked at her as if he couldn’t believe it.

“That sounds right. She’s got long blonde hair. Always wears heavy makeup. She looks like someone just got her ready to go on TV.”

He pictured Rossman in his mind’s eye. “Yeah, that’s her. I thought she was married.” He realized his faux pas as soon as the words were out, but if Carol caught it, she let it pass.

“She’s either divorced or separated. I believe she has a daughter about twelve years old.”

“So how does she get to spend time with Scardino?” he asked.

“Oh, right there, Doug,” Carol said, ignoring the question for the moment. “Keep your fingers right there. That feels so good.”

He pushed his fingers a little deeper into her skin and pressed down hard. He began moving them around in a small circle.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she sighed, and took her time before answering him. “The gossip about her and Frankie is that she runs out of the office at five o’clock to go home and feed her daughter. Most nights she comes back into town for dinner with him. She lives only ten minutes away, near the Hasbro toy plant in Pawtucket. Once or twice a week he takes her to the Econo Motel in Attleboro. They say it rents out by the hour.”

Fiore laughed. “That’s transporting a woman into Massachusetts for the purpose of having sex. Christ, I remember how those words about ‘crossing state lines’ used to scare the shit out of us when we were kids. We used to shack up in some motel in Fall River for a few hours on a Saturday night and we were always afraid the FBI was going to smash the door down just as we had an orgasm.”

Carol laughed along with him. Doug moved his hands over her shoulders and down the front of her blouse. He squeezed her breasts for several seconds, cupping and uncupping them, and moved each of his forefingers in a circular motion around the area of her nipples. She leaned back slightly toward him. He kissed her ear and began unbuttoning the blouse. “How do you know all this stuff?” he asked.

“Because the girl is a bimbo.” Carol emphasized “bimbo.” “She can’t keep it to herself. She told at least two other secretaries what was going on, in confidence, of course. And apparently she finds enough reasons to go into Frankie’s office half a dozen times a day. She believes in his open door policy but always closes it behind her.”

Carol moved her arms back to make it easier for Doug to slip off the blouse. He pushed the ends of her bra together so that the hooks came undone. She reached for the straps and threw it on the chair facing the TV. Doug turned her toward him and they exchanged smiles. He loved her breasts. They were larger and more rounded than his wife’s. He put his mouth over one and ran his tongue around the nipple. She started to breathe heavily and he felt her give a mild shudder. He did the same on the other side. He gently pushed her breasts together and let his tongue massage both nipples in a wider circle. She put her hands on the side of his face and kissed the top of his head.

“Why are you still dressed?” she asked. There was a playful urgency in her voice.

Doug got up. He undid his tie and started taking off his shirt. He smiled at Carol, who was pulling the zipper of her plaid skirt down from the waist.

“I’ve got to hand it to Frankie,” he said. “The man is fat, ugly in anyone’s book, and has basically no personality. But he finds himself a good-looking blonde to screw around with.”

“Look at it the other way, Doug. She may have found herself a little job security in Frankie. Dick Birnbaum’s the third lawyer she’s worked for in ten months. That probably means she’s not the world’s greatest secretary.” Carol put her hand between his legs. “I think someone down there is ready and waiting.”

Her touch excited him. Doug was suddenly anxious to make love. “Fix the bed,” he said. Carol pulled the bedspread down and reached for the light switch. He quickly undressed and lay down next to her.

“Who do you think we can bill for this time?” he asked, in mock seriousness. A few seconds later they both laughed at the question. Then she started moving on top of him. “Easy, take it easy,” he whispered.

* * *

Doug was in the shower when Carol left the hotel room. She emerged from the elevator and walked toward the lobby, holding the straps of her briefcase in her left hand. At that moment, she heard someone call her name. Panicking for an instant, Carol considered ignoring the greeting, as if too engrossed in other thoughts to have heard it. But she glanced to her left and saw a familiar face rapidly closing in on her. She stopped and smiled at Jeff MacGregor. He was one of several vice presidents in the loan department at Spalding Bank.

Carol represented a number of WC&B clients, including Fiore’s two major construction companies, in obtaining loans from Spalding. She and Jeff often spent the better part of a day reviewing the endless number of documents arranged around the perimeter of a long conference table while closing some of those deals. MacGregor was holding hands with a woman wearing a white suit. Carol was certain she recently saw the same outfit hanging in the designer section of Lord & Taylor’s.

“Hi, Jeff. Spending the bank’s money again?” She started to offer her hand but stopped, realizing he’d have to let go of his companion’s to take it.

“Don’t I wish it,” he answered. “We’re celebrating our eleventh anniversary tonight.”

“Well, congratulations!” She directed the word and her smile at both of them.

“Carol, I’d like you to meet my wife, Debbie. Debbie, this is Carol Singer, a lawyer at Walters, Cassidy & Breen. She and I often have to do what it takes to make certain that the wheels of progress keep moving forward in this town.”

The two women smiled at each other and exchanged pleasantries.

“Working late, huh.” Jeff made it more of a statement than a question.

Carol raised the soft leather briefcase in front of her. “Yes, I just got out of a meeting. The law is a jealous lover, as we gals like to say. Trouble is, I’ve got an even more jealous husband waiting for me at home. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to run. Very nice meeting you, Debbie. I’ll see you soon, Jeff. Congratulations again to you both.” She waved her hand and hurried off.

“She’s some terrific lawyer,” Jeff said. They watched Carol moving quickly toward the revolving door at the main entrance. “Her husband’s a lawyer too, but he does litigation. Bruce Singer. He was the lieutenant governor for four years under Frank Lindgren.”