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right. It was thoughtless of me. I m so sorry.
What kind of loser was I, anyway? Frank had been very
generous and I couldn t even manage to return his car on
time. I was alienating all the men in my life. First Michael,
now Frank. I hadn t spoken with Josh, so maybe he was
okay with being stood up. Otherwise, at the rate I was
going I might never have sex again in my life. Fifty or so
long years of celibacy stretched out before me. . . .
Annie? Frank s voice broke into my unhappy
reverie. He was standing in front of his desk now, hands in
his pockets.
Hmm?
I said, are you all right, he repeated slowly.
Yeah, sure, Frank. I just feel terrible for letting you
down like that.
SHOOTING GALLERY 295
You didn t, he said, and for a second I perked up. I
rather expected you to be late.
Stung, I stared at him. That was kind of mean, even if it
was true.
Frank s tone softened. What happened to your eye,
Annie? Are you in trouble?
Me? Trouble? I was aiming for bewilderment but hit
squeaky guilt instead.
Tell me what s going on. Does it have anything to do
with the Picasso?
I flashed on the abstract painting I d seen in Haggerty s
collection and wondered if Frank knew about it. Or had
Michael nabbed it along with the others? I gave the Pi-
casso to you, Frank. I m not responsible for it anymore, re-
member?
I didn t suggest that you were, he replied, his dark
eyes searching mine. If you re in trouble, Annie, I might
be able to help. Come on, he cajoled. You can tell your
Uncle Frank.
Uncle? I d thought of Frank in many ways, but never in
the avuncular. My unruly mind flashed on an image of
Frank in the buff. Either I didn t think of him as an uncle,
or I d suddenly developed a tolerance for incest. Did I need
therapy?
No, what I needed was to relax. Sitting in more traffic
and going home to an empty apartment did not fit the bill.
The room at the Fairmont was still mine, and along the
way were stores aplenty dispensing junk food all night
long, holidays included. As I knew from my time in Eu-
rope, one of America s great contributions to human com-
fort was the twenty-four-hour convenience store. So that s
what I d do. I would eat ice cream and watch movies in my
luxury hotel room. My spirits lifted and I was infused with
energy.
296 Hailey Lind
Frank, listen. I m fine, really. Got to go. Have a great
Thanksgiving, okay? I snatched my keys from the top of
Frank s desk, leaving the Jaguar s keys in their place.
Frank grabbed my wrist. Hold it. Are you sure every-
thing s all right?
I looked at him, surprised at the expression on his face,
which spoke of greater-than-average interest. Maybe An-
nette was onto something and Frank really was interested
in me romantically. I couldn t be sure, though, because his
eyes were focused on my chest, where Mary s blouse
gaped open. Maybe he was just a red-blooded hetero guy
sneaking a cheap peek.
How s Hedvig these days? I asked, to distract him.
Hedvig? Who s Hedvig?
Heidi. Sonja. Gerta?
Frank laughed and released my wrist, crossed his arms
over his chest, and leaned on his desk. Ingrid. And she s
doing very well, thanks. Why do you ask?
Just being polite. I tried to sound innocent, which was
a stretch because we both knew I wasn t.
What s the deal with you and Ingrid?
What are you talking about, Frank? I ve never even
met the woman.
Do you and the gang upstairs have some kind of con-
test afoot concerning Ingrid? he asked with a slight smile.
A contest afoot ? I huffed. Don t be absurd. What
kind of people would have a pool on the first verified In-
grid sighting? That would be pretty sad, huh?
Annie, you never cease to amaze me, he said, and
started laughing, a genuine laugh this time, not one of his
patented mirthless chuckles, and I joined in. Our eyes met,
and there it was. A definite tingle. It made me nervous, es-
pecially coming on the heels of my desire to sleep with
SHOOTING GALLERY 297
Michael. And that reminded me of how I d deceived Frank
into loaning me his car to aid and abet a felony.
I needed that ice cream. And maybe a fifth of scotch.
Anyhoo, I ve got to run. Thanks again for the use of the
car. It was a lifesaver, truly.
No problem, he replied, returning to his computer.
Happy Thanksgiving.
I felt a vague disappointment as I started up the stairs.
What did you expect? I chided myself. That Frank would
sweep you up in his strong, masculine arms, forever shat-
tering the invisible barrier of pride that had kept apart our
two lonely, aching hearts, so we could be united in an eter-
nity of lusty fulfillment and blissful oneness?
Whoa where had that come from? I halted on the
landing and ran a quick self-diagnosis. I was in greater
need of comfort than I d thought.
I charged up to the studio as fast as I could in Mary s
too-big boots. My assistant was on the computer, surfing
the Internet. Hey, Mare.
Hey, Annie. How d it go? I ve been worried about you,
what with that eye and all. Who ve you been hanging with
in these mysterious client meetings?
Never mind that. I ve got an all-expenses-paid room at
the Fairmont tonight. Whaddya say? Me and thou, a cou-
ple of pints of Ben & Jerry s, and some in-room movies?
I am totally there. Mary s eyes lit up and she shut
down the computer. We ve got it all night?
Yup.
What are we waiting for?
Mary s vagabond lifestyle meant she always carried a
toothbrush and clean underwear in a tote bag, so she was
ready to go. I, on the other hand, was acutely aware of my
lack of personal effects. Along with ice cream, potato
chips, chocolate, and booze, I would buy a toothbrush,
298 Hailey Lind
some hair goop, and a People magazine. After putting a
few things away and keying the alarm system, we thun-
dered down the stairs and hopped into my trusty truck. It
wasn t a Jag, but it would get us where we wanted to go,
so who was I to complain?
Forty-five minutes later we were happily ensconced in
luxury, eating ice cream from the carton and flipping be-
tween The Maltese Falcon and When Harry Met Sally on
cable. Mary kept me amused doing Humphrey Bogart
voice-overs for Harry and Billy Crystal lines for Bogie.
A ringing telephone intruded into our hedonistic co-
coon. Mary muted the television. Might as well answer
it, she said. If you don t, you ll be wondering all night
who it was.
There was a terrible wailing on the other end of the line.
And a honking sound.
Evangeline? I asked. Is that you? What s that
noise?
Yeah, sorry. I was jest knockin on your door and your
alarm went off again. Hol on a sec.
I heard garbled voices shouting above the alarm. Uh-oh.
Evangeline came back on the line. That was the little
guy from downstairs. He seems kinda pissed.
Little guy?
Yeah, the hoity-toity one in the fancy duds.
Only Evangeline would refer to Frank as a little guy.
How did you know where to find me?
That friend of yours? Pedro? I called him back, and he
said I should maybe call you at the hotel. What re you
doin at the Fairmont? That s a pretty ritzy place, huh?
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