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Taking consolation from the knowledge that if he didn’t want to make the trip to Lake George, wild horses couldn’t make him, he dialed Sandra, whom he’d known for ten years, since the night he’d gone to one of her shows on a musician friend’s suggestion. She’d spotted him in the audience and had come over to his table. They spent the intermission together, then time after the show, then made a long, hot night of it—that night and several others. For two years, if they weren’t seeing other people, they’d hook up for a night, once a week, sometimes more, sometimes less. He’d liked the uncomplicated nature of their sexual relationship and was disappointed when she ended it and broke off contact. Happily, they met again by chance a few years later, and had started a platonic friendship. Who knew, maybe they would end up together forever. They joked about it now and then.
Sandra picked up. “Hey, hottie, what’s happening?”
“Want to come with me to Lake George for a long weekend?”
She gasped theatrically. “Oh, you are so speaking my language.”
“Seriously? You don’t have a show?”
“I’m between them, and can’t stand myself anymore. You called just as I was about to become a heroin and shopping-channel addict. I don’t know which one’s worse.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled. She had a fairly edgy sense of humor, to put it mildly. Came from a rough childhood in South Boston. “Put down the needle and the remote and pack your bags.”
“When do we leave?”
“Considering the week I’m having, not soon enough. Saturday morning? I have a dinner meeting Friday.”
She clucked her tongue. “Only you would have a business meeting on a Friday night.”
“He’s a client in town for a conference.”
“I’m telling you, they own your very fine Jon-ass.”
“Ha.” He bristled at the dig. “Maybe not for long.”
“Yeah?” She dropped the sensual lounge singer act she did so well, her voice rising to its normal sweet pitch. “No offense, but I’ve been hearing that for a while.”
Jonas sighed wearily. “I know. But I’m getting closer. We can talk.”
“Good deal. Saturday suits me fine. What brought this on, by the way? I thought you were going to get rid of the place.”
“We’ve been summoned to chaperone young Erik and his latest target.”
“Erik needs a chaperone? What’s wrong with that boy? Or more to the point, what’s wrong with the woman? Frigid? Closet gay? From a past century?”
“I was just asking him the same thing. Between you and me, I think it’s a case of ‘she’s just not that into him.’”
“Ah. I suppose even a master can fail sometimes. Well, after all the stories you’ve told me, I look forward to watching him in action.”
“That makes one of us.” His voice came out more brusquely than he intended. “I’m sure he can’t teach you a thing.”
“You got that right.” Her voice went back to the sensual purr she used in her act to great effect. Sandra had been performing since she could walk, in community theater, in equity shows and her favorite—singing jazz and show tunes in clubs around Boston. She was beautiful, sexy, magnetic and a hell of a singer. “I also look forward to hanging out with you, Jonas.”
“That definitely makes two of us.” He hung up the phone, still annoyed with Erik and with himself for being persuaded, but now thinking the weekend might be just what he needed. A chance to get away, gain some perspective on life and work and what he wanted to do next. Lake George was a good place for that kind of deep thinking. And he’d have the chance to catch up with an old friend.
Nothing strange about that. He always looked forward to seeing Sandra. The odd thing was his immediate follow-up thought: that he was also looking forward to seeing Allie.
2
Hi Allie,
Erik asked me to email you to confirm that I’ll be at Lake George on Saturday (the 19th)—he didn’t think you believed I was coming. Obviously you’re a smart woman. I’ll make sure he behaves, though I’m guessing you can take care of yourself.
By the way, sorry you got laid off. The world makes no sense sometimes. I’m sure you’ll find a job soon. Mine isn’t thrilling me these days—I’m dreaming about starting my own company.
Wow. I haven’t admitted that to anyone yet. Barely even to myself. So now you know my deepest secret.
Jonas
P.S. It will be good to see you again. I enjoyed meeting you in New York
