19

It was going on midnight when Jane pulled into her driveway. As thoughts of Jordan Deere and his family tumbled around inside her mind, she did a double take. Backing up a few feet, she saw that Avi’s car was parked in front of the house. She hadn’t expected this and was hardly prepared for the conversation their problems demanded.

Entering through the back door, Jane heard the usual patter of dog paws as Mouse and Gimlet raced into the kitchen to greet her. She crouched down and pulled them into her arms. Gimlet did her happy dance, balancing on her two back feet. Mouse nosed Jane’s hand, asking for a scratch. Finally, the welcome complete, Jane rose and grabbed a bottle of single malt off the counter, poured herself a drink, downed it in one neat gulp, and then walked out of the kitchen, through the dining room, into the living room.

She was still struggling with how best to handle things, when, instead of Avi, Julia stood up and turned toward her. She’d been sitting on the couch.

“What are you doing here?” demanded Jane.

“What a wonderfully warm welcome. It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Where’s Avi?”

Julia gave Jane a quizzical look. “She’s in Chicago.”

“Then why is her car outside?”

“Ah,” said Julia. “I get it. You thought she’d come back to spend the night. No, sorry. It’s just me. Avi left her car in the airport lot. I asked for her keys before I left, since I didn’t want to take a cab when I got back to town. Poor Janey. You’re disappointed.”

“How did you get in here?”

“Your neighbor, Evelyn Bratrude. She came over to let the dogs out about eight. Saw me sitting on the front steps. We’re old friends, you know—from the years you and I were together. She let me in. Don’t blame her. She didn’t think she was doing anything wrong. She’s always been such a help to you with your various varmints. I see you have a new dog. The curly little black one. Never thought of you as the poodle type.”

“She was a stray. Needed a home.”

“Sure,” said Julia, moving around the end of the couch to face Jane without any furniture between them. “You’re good with strays.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Julia. I didn’t think of you that way when we first met.”

“You’re getting better at sparing with me. I like that.” She stepped closer, sniffed Jane’s breath. “I see. I could be wrong, but I’d say that’s scotch. Aren’t you going to offer me one?”

“You’re here for a reason. What is it?”

“Can’t I merely stop by to say hi? See how you’re doing? I thought we agreed to be friends. Lesbians are supposed to be good at that—not kicking the ex out the door forever just because the relationship fizzled.”

“That hardly covers what happened to us. Lies don’t really qualify as communication.”

Julia smiled as she stepped around Jane and sauntered toward the kitchen.

Jane figured she’d have to play her game if she wanted to find out why she’d come. She also figured that Julia had hauled her usual fire bomb with her. Like Robert Duvall in Apocalypse Now, she loved the smell of napalm in the morning.

Standing in the kitchen doorway, Jane watched Julia pour herself a drink. She was still a beautiful woman. Golden hair. Slim and elegant in her gray pinstriped business suit and high heels.

Julia held up the bottle, nodding to the empty glass on the counter. “Another?”

“Why not?”

They took chairs on either side of the kitchen table. Jane was tired, but the booze had centered her. As the alcohol moved through her system, she felt her muscles loosen, her senses sharpen. She’d drunk enough scotch in her time to know that the last sensation was pure fiction.

“So,” said Jane, trying to move the conversation along. “Are you sleeping with Avi?”

“Whoa. Where did that come from?”

“If you don’t want to start there, where do you want to start?”

Tipping the glass back and taking a sip, Julia said, “How about this: Our girl’s doing really well.”

“Girl?”

“Oh, don’t be such a tight-assed feminista.”

“Our girl?”

“We both have an interest in her. She’s quite a find. I’m glad Ducasse & Ducasse got to her before the book was shopped around New York.”

“There’s no way you’re going to do for her what a major press would.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. We’re going to make her a huge name. Just wait and see.”

“You act like it has nothing to do with her writing ability and everything to do with your promotional efforts.”

“No,” said Julia, fingering her silver necklace. “It’s like any good relationship. Both sides have to do their part.”

Jane tossed back her second scotch. “Have we done enough foreplay now? Can we get to the point? Are you sleeping with her?”

Julia’s smile was filled with amusement. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Answer the question.”

“You tell me. Am I sleeping with her?”

“Yes.”

“She’s not who you think she is.”

“Meaning?”

“She’s damaged goods. I don’t know who did what to her. She told me some of the details, but I’m sure there’s more. She hides who she really is—and she’s good at it.”

“And what do you think you know?”

“For starters, she’s full of rage. She holds it in most of the time, but if you know where to look, you can see it and, let me tell you, it’s scary. She’s unstable, Jane. Up and down. She’s sexually promiscuous. I saw her come on to a waitress the other night. It was so blatant it was embarrassing. You’re going to have a hard time living with that, trust me. She … disappears. I mean, right in front of you. She just goes away. She drinks too much. Maybe she’s an alcoholic, I don’t know. She’s brilliant, sure. She can be funny as hell, and she’s incredibly perceptive. But she’s also a depressive, thinks the world has wronged her in some fundamental way.”

“And you love her.”

Leaning forward, resting her arms on the table, Julia said, “I don’t love her, dummy. I love you.”

“And you’re expressing your love for me by sleeping with my girlfriend.”

“I know this may seem difficult to fathom, but yes.”

Jane winced. Took a couple of ragged breaths. This was Julia at the top of her game, twisting a situation to fit her needs. It was as if she were a modern-day alchemist, turning leaden lies into golden truths. “Do me a favor. Love me a little less.”

“Not possible.”

“I want you to leave.”

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Finishing her drink, she pushed away from the table. “I do love you. Nothing, and I mean nothing, in my world is ever simple—except that.”