Karoly looks first at her, and then at the crowd around him and shrugs. "Excuse me?" he says.
"Who are you?" Courtney says.
"Have we met?" Woodward says.
"Now, Anna," Frank says.
"You know," she shouts. "You all know."
Cybil rushes over and tries to pull Anna away. "You got it wrong. You'll see," Anna shouts. The bartender signals one of the waiters, and the two of them start to escort Anna out of the bar. Cybil attempts to go with her, but she is angrily brushed aside. "Are you part of this, too?" she says, and Cybil backs off.
"What was that about?" I say. "Are you part of what?"
"I don't know," Cybil says. "She just isn't well, is she?"
"Maybe we should go and see that she gets home," I say. "I'll come with you, Cybil."
"I don't think she wants me to," Cybil replies. "She seems to think I'm part of whatever this is. I think we should just let her calm down."
"I agree," Frank says, coming over to the table. "Just let her be for tonight, and give her a call tomorrow. Here, I've ordered you all another drink."
"Why don't you give me Anna's address, Cybil," I say. "I am going to have to take a taxi after that B52 anyway, so I'll swing by her place and make sure she's okay. She can't blame me for whatever this thing is. She hasn't seen me in years."
"Your drinks are here," Frank says. "Lara, yours is the white wine?"
"I think you should just leave her be," Diana says. "I don't think she was in the mood to be talked to, or she would have let Cybil go with her."
"Something must have set her off," I say. "What could it be?"
"I expect it's about Karoly being a first-class jerk," Diana says as Frank leaves us to join the group at the bar.
"I agree," Morgan says.
"At least he recognized you," I said. "He didn't even know me."
"You've mentioned that," Diana said.
"What are you doing, sitting there like a bump on a log?" I ask her, at least that's what I try to say, but the words don't seem to be coming out of my mouth exactly right all of a sudden.
"I'm plotting my revenge," she says, gesturing toward a group at the bar.
By now I am feeling really peculiar, a little lightheaded, and wonder if I'm coming down with the flu or something. Frank, who has left us temporarily to go and chat up a cute young man at the bar, comes and sits beside me, and I think how attractive he is. I remind myself he's gay, but I find myself looking at all the guys in the bar rather lasciviously. A couple of them come over and chat me up, and I remind myself I'm unattached and can do whatever I want. I may be dirt to Charles Miller, but I can still attract a man.
But I'm really feeling strange by this time, and even stumble a little. "Whoa," Frank says. "You gotta watch those B52s." I think to myself that I only had a sip or two.
"Do you really only like men?" I say to Frank. He looks startled.
"I'm afraid so," he says.
"I couldn't change your mind, could I?" I say.
"Not likely," he says, "I have my eye on a divine young man at the bar, but if I ever do change my mind on that subject, you'll be the first to know."
"Oh, good," I say.
"I think maybe you've had enough," he says, taking the glass of wine out of my hand and carefully but firmly pushing me down into a chair beside Diana, who has pretty much sat out the party.
"Give that back," I say, rather too loudly. Grace looks askance.
"I don't think so," Frank says. "Gotta go join my author at the bar."
"Here, have mine," Diana says. "I haven't touched it."
"I think it's time we all went home," Grace says. "Some of us do not seem to know when to stop drinking."
"Charlie's going to be really famous," I say, but even to me, my voice sounds funny. "Whether we like it or not. That Venus is going to make him famous, and Frank thinks the book will be a best seller."
"Lovely thought, that," Morgan says. "I'd better go, too. I feel a migraine coming on. I blame it on seeing Karoly."
"You have given me an idea," Diana says to me.
"I have? What did I say?" I am having trouble following the conversation.
"You said that the Venus was going to make his reputation. So you know what?"
"No," I slur. The room is starting to spin.
"I'm going to steal the Magyar Venus right out from under Karoly Molnar's nose. And you," she says, turning back to me, "are going to help me."
And that is the very last thing I remember.
CHAPTERTHREE
September 6
I AWOKE TO A PAINFUL THROBBING AT MY TEMPLES, AN unpleasant queasiness in my gut, and an annoying ringing sound in my ears. Apparently my reunion with my college buddies had resulted in a college kind of drinking spree. It was clear to me why I had given it up the moment I left college. I felt positively vile.
I was in my underwear in my own bed, but how I'd managed to get there, I had no idea. My clothes were scattered in a line from the doorway, and my bag was by the bed, contents spread over a wide area. The car keys were on a chair. Oh my, I thought, looking at them.
The noise stopped for a moment or two, to my great relief, but then started again. I realized it was the phone. I had recently purchased a new one with all the bells and whistles available to anyone silly enough to buy them, and it seemed to take an immense effort to make it work. "Hello," I croaked.
"Are you all right?" Clive demanded.
"Why would you think I wouldn't be?" I snapped. If he thought I'd been crabby yesterday, today was going to be quite a trial for him.
"A couple of reasons," he replied. "One is that it is 11:00 in the morning, and as you may recall, we open at 9:30. The second is that your car is here at the office and you're not."
That's good, I thought. It was a relief to know that apparently the part of my brain that knew enough not to drive had still been operating when all other higher brain functions had ceased. "I didn't feel like driving," I said.
"You got a parking ticket," he said. "A rather large one."
"I did?" I said. Our parking places off the lane behind the store were perfectly legal day and night. "How come?"
"You left your car on the street," he said.
Not good, I thought. I had no recollection whatsoever of moving it.
"I also have a rather large parking ticket," he said.
"Why?" I said.
"Because you left your car blocking the lane so I had to park on the street this morning, too."
Not good at all, I thought again. "There's a spare set of car keys in the desk in the office," I said. "You can move my car."
"Where?" he said. I could hear him rummaging around in a most annoying way. "Okay, found them. How did you manage to make that rather large dent in your bumper?"
Very bad, I thought. "I'm not sure," I said.
"I'm getting worried about you, Lara. Are you coming in today?"
"Maybe later," I said.
"Did you hear the news, by the way?"
"I hate it when you ask questions like that," I said.
"Then I won't tell you," he said.
I waited. Clive could not hold on to a good story for long.
"There was a break-in at the Cottingham," he said. "Somebody probably trying to steal the Venus. Didn't get it, but I gather the place is something of a mess. Somebody just drove a car into the glass windows at the back, if you can believe it. Of course it made a terrible racket, the alarms all went off, and whoever it was just backed the car up, according to police, and made their getaway. Unbelievable!"