breathed after all that Mexican shit they’d eaten with those tequila drinks the previous night. But only clean his teeth, not shave. Cindy preferred him unshaven when he went down on her; said it was more exciting. Krogh checked his watch as he slipped off the bed. Plenty of time for that. A lot more, too. Still only eight a.m. and he’d been vague when he spoke to Peggy about what time he’d get home, just some time that evening and not to bother waiting dinner.
Krogh scrubbed his teeth, able from the condo window to see the ocean nudging in against the beach. It was a grey, clouds-against-the-water sort of day that visitors didn’t expect at Malibu and felt cheated to find. There were the usual joggers and exercise freaks and owners walking dogs and scuffing sand over their crap instead of collecting it up, like they were supposed to. On balance Krogh decided the outlook from Barbara’s apartment in San Francisco was better, the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge and the higgledy-piggledy buildings clutching to the side of Nob Hill. He rinsed his mouth and found some mouthwash in the bathroom cabinet and tried that, too, smiling to himself through tight-together lips as the thought came to him. He’d set the day aside for Cindy. But they’d already been together for two celebratory days because of the customary time allowance he’d built in to the East Coast trip and the meetings in Washington DC and at the Pentagon, signing the formal, committing contracts. So why didn’t he move on, to celebrate some more? He could fly up to San Francisco in less than an hour: meet Barbara for lunch and spend the afternoon in the sack with another equally attractive and inventive girl. He’d done it before, quite a few times, going straight from one to the other, always managing to make it happen for both of them, proving himself. He’d need to phone Barbara, of course. Let her know he was coming. But not from here, because the number would be recorded on the bill and it would be a dumb thing to do even though he looked after all the bills, the telephone and the condo payments and all the charges, just like he did for Barbara. Have to make it before ten: Barbara left for art classes promptly at ten and it was difficult to get her to a telephone if she were posing. Eight fifteen, Krogh saw: still plenty of time.
Cindy was awake when he went back into the bedroom. She’d pushed the sheet further off herself and brought one leg up so he could see better, and had her hand there although she wasn’t doing anything.
‘I almost started without you,’ she said. She was blonde, naturally so and able to prove it lying like that, and brown-eyed and utterly uninhibited, enough to worry him sometimes with some of the things she wanted to do. They’d met a year before in San Diego, at a convention where she’d been one of the promotional girls for an aircraft interior accessory firm. He’d balled her that first night and set her up in the Malibu condominium a month later.
‘It was good of you to wait.’
‘I thought you’d like me to.’
Krogh guessed she’d only just managed to hold back. Cindy devoured him, literally, not allowing him to lead in anything and he let her, doing what she guided him to do after she’d done what she wanted. He was finding it difficult to match her but she pulled away just at the right moment, cutting the lines on the little marble slab from the bedside drawer and taking two herself before offering him the chance. Krogh was frightened, although he was confident he was strong enough never to become addicted and so he’d done it with her a few times and he did it now, needing the help. It was good stuff and hit immediately and all their tiredness went and they did it all again, but longer this time.
‘Jesus!’ gasped Krogh, when they finally parted. ‘Sweet Jesus!’
‘You’re guaranteed the gold when fucking becomes an Olympic event,’ said Cindy. Always tell the guy it was the best it had ever been, she thought: worked every time. Actually it had been pretty terrific.
‘At the moment I couldn’t get up on the rostrum to collect it,’ said Krogh.
‘When are you leaving?’
It was gone ten, he saw; too late for Barbara now. He was down from the coke and felt absolutely drained, like he’d been wrung out to dry, and didn’t think he could have managed it with Barbara anyway. He said: ‘Afternoon somewhen: no particular hurry.’ The contract signing confirmed everything, which made it pretty fantastic, but his father-in-law was never at the plant in the afternoon and he was the only person it was really necessary to impress.
‘So we’ve got lots of time?’
Krogh looked nervously across the bed. ‘What for?’
She giggled. ‘Shopping. Just shopping. Well… looking, too.’
‘I thought we’d shopped already,’ said Krogh. That’s all they had done, apart from screw, ever since he’d arrived in Los Angeles: he reckoned he’d parted with enough to pay the taxes on Rodeo Drive and Wiltshire Boulevard for a year.
‘Honey!’ she said, in the pouting, little-girl voice she had for asking special favours.
‘I didn’t say we couldn’t,’ assured Krogh quickly. He liked being the big spender, the whatever-you-want- you-get man. He could afford it, after all.
She came closer to him, nuzzling against him. ‘Now?’
‘Sure. Now, if that’s what you want.’
‘You’re very good to me. And I love you for it. I still like the car, of course. Love it like I did when you bought it for me.’
The sudden jump confused him. ‘What?’
‘My car. I still like it.’
‘Good.’ It was red, the colour she’d wanted: a Honda sports. Krogh liked to treat them both the same so he’d bought one for Barbara, as well. Barbara had chosen blue.
‘It’s just that I’ve seen this convertible: a Volkswagen GTI, all white. White upholstery, white top, white wheel trim,’ recited Cindy, as if she were reading from the sales brochure. ‘It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life and I love it to death and want to show it to you. Not to buy. Just to show you, so you can look. That OK?’
‘Sure that’s OK,’ said Krogh. The price of a new car would be swallowed without a ripple in the profits coming to him from the Pentagon deal. He wished he’d thought of it as a gift instead of her having to ask. He could still make it a surprise for Barbara.
‘I really do love you,’ repeated the girl. ‘Don’t you ever leave me, will you?’
‘You’re the one who’ll want it all to end one day,’ said Krogh realistically.
‘I won’t!’ insisted Cindy. ‘I won’t ever want that!’
‘Let’s not talk about it.’
‘I said noon. It’s a quarter off eleven already.’
Again Krogh was confused. ‘Noon?’
‘To meet the salesman who’d got the dinkie little VW. I knew you’d say yes because you’re so wonderful so I made an appointment to see him. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No,’ sighed Krogh. ‘We’d better get cleaned up.’
The salesroom was on Sunset, just short of where it ceases being smart movie-magazine Hollywood and gives way to the tacky I-could-have-been-a-star cocktail places. The car was on the front, glistening from a polish job, the Sold sticker already on the windscreen. Cindy said the man must have misunderstood. They went through the hood-lifting, ass-in-the-seat-for-comfort routine and the salesman said he’d take the Honda sports off their hands at a price they would not get anywhere else. Krogh bought it on the spot, which he’d known in bed that morning that he would and Cindy had known in bed that morning that he would. Krogh insisted on all the paperwork being in his name – in owning the car, in fact – just like he owned the condo on Malibu and the apartment and the car in San Francisco. Krogh knew exactly what he was doing and with whom he was doing it and when the girls moved on or he moved on he didn’t intend losing out on real estate that was appreciating in value all the time or on automobiles that still had some equity in them. As they parted with handshakes the salesman said: ‘Your daughter’s never going to want another car after this one, Mr Krogh. I hope she knows what a truly lucky girl she is.’
‘Asshole!’ said Cindy as they went back towards the ocean.
‘If he’s an asshole why’d you take the card he slipped you?’
‘He didn’t
Krogh hoped to Christ she was careful: he had a very real fear of catching something from either Cindy or Barbara. They went to eat at Gladstones, on the beach. There were a lot of halter tops and cut-off jeans and bare flesh and yells and shouts of young recognition and Krogh felt very old. Krogh didn’t finish his steak and their waiter,
