She took her right hand out of my left and slid it around to join her left hand at the small of my back. Unless I was willing to dance around with my left hand sticking out like a figure in a Roman fountain, I had nothing to do but put it around her. I did.
“I need to understand you, so I can control you,” Candy said.
“Your present technique is fairly effective,” I said. My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat slightly, trying not to make any noise. “For the short run.”
“Throat a bit dry?” Candy said.
“That’s just my Andy Deyine impression,” I said. “Sometimes I do Aldo Ray.”
My throat felt tight, and there seemed to be more blood in my veins than I had begun the evening with.
She giggled softly, “Would you care to help me undress?” she said.
“Spenser’s the name, helping’s the game,” I said. I sounded like Andy Devine with a cold. I could feel that old red obliterative surge I always felt at times like this. The band on the roof was playing “The Man vibes. Love,” featuring someone, not Lionel Hampton, on vibes.
“There are two buttons,” Candy said. She took my hands in hers. “One here.” We continued to move slowly with the music, “One here.” She let the unbuttoned dress slide down her arms and drop to the floor behind her. There was moonlight amplified by some spillover from the hotel windows and the roof lighting
Her bra was the same plum color as her dress. “Three snaps,” she murmured. “Hooks and eyelets, actually, in a vertical line-”
The bra slid down her arms in front of her and fell to the floor between us. “The Panty hose while dancing will be a challenge,” I whispered.
I wasn’t being secretive. It was the best I could talk.
“Try,” she said. She stood almost still, her upper body moving slightly with the music. Her hands guided mine. It’s hard to be graceful removing panty hose. We didn’t fully succeed. But we got it done, and when I straightened, she wore only the gold around her neck. I felt oafishly overdressed.
“Now you,” she said.
“Always hard to know what’s best to do with a gun in this situation,” I wheezed.
We were both naked finally, dancing on the balcony. The gun lay holstered on the table beside the cognac bottle. If an assassin broke in I could reach it in less than five minutes.
“What’s that they re playing?” Candy said in my ear.
“ `I’ll Never Smile Again,‘ ” I said.
“I wish it were Ravel’s ‘Bolero,’” she said.
“At my age,” I croaked, ,you may have to settle for `Song of the Volga Boatmen.‘ “
“Pick me up.” she said. She was whispering now too. “Carry me to bed.”
Before I do, “ I said. ”This is what it is. It leads nowhere. It means nothing more than the moment.“
“I know. Pick me up. Carry me.”
I did, she wasn’t heavy.
I snagged the gun, too, from the coffee table and took it with me when we went into the bedroom.
Chapter 10
WE WERE EATING corned beef hash at Don Hernando’s in the Beverly Wilshire. Candy had insisted that it was the world’s best, and I was willing to let her think so. She had never breakfasted at R.D.‘s Diner in South Glens Palls, New York.
Candy sipped her coffee. When she put the cup down, there was a lipstick imprint on the rim. Susan always did that too.
“Any guilt?” Candy said to me.
I ate a forkful of hash, took a small bite of toast, and chewed and swallowed. “I don’t think so,” I said.
“What about the woman you’re committed to?”
“I’m still committed to her.”
“Will you tell her?”
“Yes.”
“Will she mind?”
“Not very much,” I said.
“Would you mind if it were the other way?”
“Yes.”
“Is that fair?”
“It’s got nothing to do with fair,” I said, “or unfair. I’m jealous. She’s not. Perhaps it’s a real recognition that hers would be an affair of the heart, while mine is of the flesh only, so to speak.”
