“May all your troubles be little ones,” he began, and Jennifer clutched at his arm to stop him. She was off again, gasping, tears coming to her eyes, certain that any moment now they would be attracting attention. After all, what the hell could be so funny that it would reduce the two of them to hysterics in the middle of a banquet?
He opened his mouth, and she held up her hand. “Please,” she whispered, “no more. I’m making a fool of myself as it is.”
“And the road ahead paved with the fulfillment of your dreams,” he recited rapidly.
Jennifer was helpless. She fell against him, and he grabbed her to steady her. After a moment she sobered, noticing the tenderness in his eyes.
“You really do like me, don’t you?” he said softly. “You wish you didn’t, but you do.”
Jennifer’s silence was her answer.
“I know the feeling,” he said, releasing her. They stared at one another, an oasis of stillness in the bustling, crowded room.
Joe Thornridge arrived to break the spell. “Hi, Jennifer,” he said. “What’s this guy been telling you?”
“Not much,” Jennifer replied, realizing that that was possibly the biggest lie she had ever uttered.
“What’s the matter with you, Chief? You boring this girl? I know a good one. Tell her about the time your knee gave out in the men’s room at Grand Central Station.”
“I think she could live without hearing that one, Joe,” Lee said faintly.
“Aw, come on,” Joe said, not to be dissuaded. “The Chief is, uh, using the facilities, if you know what I mean, when his leg folds up, and he goes crashing down between the sinks, flat out on the floor like a sack o’ corn meal.”
“Joe...” Lee said warningly.
“And so,” Joe went on, warming to his tale, “Lee’s all alone in there, can’t get anybody to help him, and just has to wait for somebody to show.”
Lee rolled his eyes, giving up.
“And guess who the first person to come in is?”
Jennifer was unable to guess.
“A cop!” Joe said, chortling. “In he walks and sees old superstar here grovelin’ on the floor, mumbling about some trick knee. Thought it was some new form o’ perversion, didn’t he, Lee ol’ boy?”
“If I killed him right now, how much time would they give me?” Lee said to Jennifer.
“Well, excuse me,” Joe said, offended.
“It’s all right, Joe,” Lee said, clapping his friend on the back, “that just reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to tell the little Mrs. over there. About the time you and Carl Danbury got those two stewardesses and—”
Joe interrupted with an observation about some people having no sense of humor and walked off, throwing Lee a black look over his shoulder.
Lee turned to Jennifer immediately. “Dance with me,” he said.
This was a prospect too inviting to be denied. But just as Jennifer nodded, agreeing, the band switched from the slow numbers it had been playing to a heavy metal rendition of a popular rock tune, with a steady, underlying sensual rhythm.
Jennifer stopped short, intending to demur. But Lee’s fingers closed around her wrist, and she looked up into his eyes. They contained an unmistakable challenge.
“Come on,” he said softly. “You can’t go back on it now.”
Jennifer hesitated, but couldn’t resist answering his unspoken dare. He wanted to dance? She would dance, all right.
Once they got out on the floor, all her inhibitions left her. Lee was as graceful dancing as he was playing football, and she matched him move for move, never breaking eye contact for a moment. As the music swelled, surrounding them, Jennifer felt it in her blood, carrying her away on a tide of reckless abandon. She leaned into Lee, shaking her shoulders, and saw the flicker of response in his eyes, as the crowd around them began to whistle and close in for a better look. He danced more provocatively, testing her, and she followed him, unwilling to back down. More people caught on to the show, and by the time the music ended, Lee and Jennifer had brought down the house, concluding to applause and wolf calls that left little doubt as to the nature of what had happened.
Jennifer walked straight off the floor, looking neither right nor left, until she reached her table and slid into her seat Dolores was there, staring at her, dumbfounded.
“What’s the matter, Dolores, you look like you need a drink,” Jennifer said calmly.
“A drink!” Dolores yelped. “After that little scene, what I need is a cold shower. My God, Jen, what were you thinking of, to dance with him like that? I was ready to phone for the vice squad.”
It wasn’t easy to shock Dolores, but Jennifer had apparently done it That was some sort of milestone. It also told Jennifer that if generally liberal Dolores reacted this way, the response in more conservative quarters (like the mind of Harold J. Salamone) might be somewhat greater.
Her chagrin was intensified by the return of Craig and John to their table. John glanced at Jennifer briefly and then looked down, fiddling with his napkin. Jennifer felt a sharp stab of sympathy for him. After all, she was his date, and she had just made a spectacle of herself with another man.
Jennifer felt the heat of a flush staining her skin and brushed damp tendrils of hair away from her face. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, pushing back her chair. The men half rose out of their seats as she walked quickly through the ballroom until she reached the cool safety of the marble-floored entry hall.
The reception area was almost empty, as the party was in full swing. The clerk behind the desk glanced at her without curiosity, and one of the hostesses, who recognized her as being with the Freedom, merely nodded and walked on. Jennifer sank gratefully into a chair next to a large potted plant, and closed her eyes.
She had to get a grip on herself. This kind of behavior would never do. She was a mature, responsible, professional woman, not some love-struck adolescent tormented by spring fever. She knew how she felt about Lee, but the rest of the world didn’t have to. If she kept on this way, the state of her affections would remain about as secret as tomorrow’s headline on The New York Times.
She opened her eyes to see Lee standing in front of her, regarding her thoughtfully.
“Go away,” she said and closed her eyes again.
“I intend to,” he answered. “And you’re coming with me.”
Jennifer’s eyes flew open.
“Let’s ditch this place,” he said, “and go for a ride.”
“No.”
“Why not? They’re all getting loaded in there; nobody will miss us.”
“I think Dawn and John might notice the empty seats if we leave, Lee.” And draw their own conclusions after our recent performance, she added silently.
“Then we’ll tell them a lie,” he said simply.
She eyed him suspiciously.
“We’ll say something has come up, that we have some work to do.”
“Lee, anybody who swallows that will be ready to open a wooden nickel depository in the morning.”
He grinned, sensing her weakening resistance. “Come on,” he coaxed. “Live dangerously. We’ll come back later. Play hooky, for a little while.”
His terminology was appropriate. He sounded exactly like one of her junior high buddies trying to convince her to skip school.
“You know you want to,” he added softly.
Truer words were never spoken, Jennifer thought.” He took her silence for assent, and she trailed after him, watching him stop at her table, and his own, to volunteer some story which undoubtedly no one believed.
She realized that he didn’t care, and, with some surprise, that she really didn’t, either. Her desire to be with Lee completely overrode the concern with appearances or propriety which might once have influenced her.
When he returned, she followed him wordlessly outside.
* * * *
Lee took her back to his house, switching off a burglar alarm with a key as they entered. It was spotless, as always. He had mentioned that he had a cleaning service come in once a week, and Jennifer had noticed that he himself was very neat.
“I want to show you something upstairs,” he said, leading the way. Jennifer went with him to the second floor, consisting of two large bedrooms, one of which was obviously Lee’s, and another which looked as though it were used as a guest room. Jennifer glanced into the master bedroom as they passed. It was curiously plain, almost Spartan—an oversized bed and a color television on a stand the only touches of luxury. There was one whole wall of built-in closets, and another of floor to ceiling shelves filled with books.