Carla by Lawrence Block Read Free Book Online Page B

in his lovemaking, hurting her delightfully and driving her to the very limits of human pleasure.
    As the days passed, Carla began to realize that she was falling in love with Charles. The realization came as no surprise. Bit by bit she was depending more and more upon him and responding still more fervently to the artistry of his lovemaking. For the first time in her life she felt that she was genuinely in love. She had given herself to men before and wanted men before, but she had never cared so deeply about an individual as she did about Charles. All of her being was wrapped up in him and all her day was centered around the few hours they were able to spend together each afternoon. She was unable to imagine living without him. The memory of the days without end when she did nothing but stay at home or ride around in the MG was unbearable. She couldn’t lose him.
    At the same time, for the first three days of her affair with Charles she continued to receive phone calls when she was not at home. Each time it was a man calling, and each time the man refused to leave his name but said that he would call back. Probably some jerk selling something, she decided—but the jerk stood a good chance of getting her in trouble. If he called often enough Lizzie would begin to suspect something, and that would be pretty ironic—since Charles never called, and she would be discovered because of the phonecalls of someone else entirely.
    She tried to figure out who the mysterious caller could be. Not one of her old friends, certainly, because she was never close enough to anyone back in her old neighborhood. Besides, they didn’t know she was now Mrs. Ronald Macon.
    Who else? Probably a salesman or someone soliciting for a charity, but could it be anyone else? The only man she had met lately was that grease-monkey at the gas station, and he didn’t even know who she was.
    No, it couldn’t be him.
    Each day the calls disturbed her just that much more. Not only was it a nuisance to keep missing a phonecall, but in addition the possibility of discovery became increasingly unattractive. Ronald’s case was occupying the bulk of his time and leaving him so tired each evening that he seemed almost at the point of collapse. Carla could see that he was completely wrapped up in it, seeing it as representing not only his fortune but the professional reputation he had established. If he could win the case, his career would be crowned with success. Carla knew how Ronald always drove himself harder than was necessary. He had inherited the bulk of his money, and he found it necessary to continually prove to himself that he could have done all right on his own. He felt guilty over having inherited the greater part of his wealth through no effort on his part, and by excelling in his profession he was able to assuage these guilt feelings.
    But, as he said more than once, this case was one which could go either way. He maintained that his client was in the right; proving this, however, was another matter. And one breath of scandal could ruin everything completely.
    Carla was constantly alert, trying to detect some sign that her love affair was noticed by somebody else. Try as she might she was unable to detect a clue. Lizzie seemed to be acting a bit differently lately, but this didn’t seem in any way connected. Ronald’s only change was the attitude of detachment which always went hand in hand with total absorption in his work.
    The doorman at the Tiffany glanced knowingly at her each afternoon, but she discounted him quickly enough. She knew that she was by no means the first woman to visit Charles in his apartment, and she guessed that the gray-haired doorman ought to be used to that sort of thing by now. The management of the Tiffany didn’t care about the private behaviour of their residents—not as long as the rent was paid and the residents were fairly discreet. Charles had told her that there was a lesbian