“No.”
Lloyd went stiffly to the kitchen, filled a lowball glass with ice, poured a lot of Jack Daniel’s over the ice, and brought it back. He sat and looked at Jesse and took a drink.
“I, you’re sure you don’t want something.”
“I’m sure,” Jesse said.
“I, ah, I liked Jenn a lot,” Lloyd said.
The normalness of having bourbon on the rocks in his living room made Lloyd a little calmer. Pretty soon, Jesse knew, the whiskey would help as well. . . .
“And I thought she liked me,” Lloyd said. “But I think now that she just wanted me to get her into modeling, and television commercials, and, you know, help her career.”
Jesse nodded.
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R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“She was using me.”
“Probably she wanted both,” Jesse said.
“What do you mean?”
“Probably wanted to be in love with you and wanted you to help her, and she couldn’t separate the two out either.”
“I don’t get it,” Lloyd said.
“No,” Jesse said. “You probably don’t.”
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60
They sat on the seawall at the town beach in the early evening, looking out across the deserted beach at the empty ocean. Sunny looked great, he thought. Black sleeveless top, white jeans, big sunglasses. Jesse looked sideways at her. She was staring straight out to sea. He’d never been able to figure out what made a face look intelligent.
“You spoke to Tim Lloyd,” Sunny said.
“Yes.”
“And?” Sunny said.
“He felt used,” Jesse said. “He felt she was exploiting him to get ahead.”
R O B E R T B . P A R K E R
“I’m shocked,” Sunny said, “shocked, I tell you.”
Jesse nodded. He had stopped studying her face and was also looking at the ocean.
“He stalked her so he’d feel powerful,” Sunny said.
“I know,” Jesse said.
“To compensate for feeling so not powerful,” Sunny said,
