Kissing the Beehive by Jonathan Carroll Read Free Book Online Page A

Mr. Bayer."
    "Are you hiding behind your answering machine?"
    She chuckled. "Yes I am. I like answering machines. They're like a bouncer at the front door: They only let in people you want to talk to."
    "I never thought of it that way. Listen, I'm sure you're in the middle of ten things right now --"
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    "I'm not doing a thing. Did you have something in mind?"
    "Actually I did. I was wondering if you'd like to have a drink." The words were out before I really knew what I wanted to say.
    "I would love to! Are you nearby?"
    "No. I'm sitting at a train station in Connecticut. But I could be there in a couple of hours."
    "Wow! You'd drive all that way to have a drink with me?"
    "It's a nice night. It's a nice drive."
    "And it's a nice idea! Where should we meet and when? Just say and I'm there."

    Hawthorne's is the nicest bar in New York. The drinks are big, the clientele quiet and discreet and the surroundings are comfortably worn in. By the time I arrived it was almost nine. I'd driven straight to the city from the train station so I was still wearing my Sunday-at-home clothes. That was all right for Hawthorne's and for Veronica too. I saw her when I walked in the door and felt a second's worth of eerie because she was wearing almost exactly the same outfit I had on -- a white button-down shirt, khakis and sneakers.
    Only _her_ shoes were industrial-strength, high-top basketball jobs with enough home-boy decoration on them to rate her a free pass to a Crips meeting.
    She looked delicious -- that big blond ice sculpture of hair, long neck and erotic rise beneath her shirt to make you wonder what it looked like underneath . . .
    On seeing me, she clapped her hands. "We look like twins!"
    "I was just thinking that. Who's your tailor?"
    She patted the seat next to het for me to sit down. "How was the drive in?"
    "Clean and fast. Sometimes it's a killer on Sunday night, but I guess everyone decided to stay in the country another day. What are you having?"
    "Iced tea."
    "You don't drink?"
    "I do, but I didn't want to tonight. I needed a clear head if I was going to meet you."
    "Why's that?"
    "Because you're my hero. I don't want to chance saying something dumb and scare you away."
    "You're a dream date, Veronica: Before I sit down, you say I'm your hero. I don't even have to tell you my stories to try and impress you."
    "No, but I would love to hear your stories, Mr. Bayer."
    "Sam."
    "Do you know how often I've dreamed of hearing you say that? Dreamed of sitting with you in a place like this, just the two of us, and hearing you say, 'You can call me Sam'?"
    "Are you always so, um, honest?"
    "Lying is too much trouble. You have to make sure to taste each word before letting it off your tongue. I hate that. It's hard enough making people understand without lying."
    The waiter brought my drink. Sipping it, I tried to get a better read on Veronica while we both thought of the next thing to say.
    She looked younger than I remembered, more voluptuous and desirable. I had a bad habit of getting involved with skinny, neurasthenic women. They were often good lovers, which got me hooked in the beginning, but their early sass in bed later turned into ugly static electricity that made me feel like a lightning rod in an electrical storm. Of course some of the trouble in the relationships was my fault due to my own defective wiring and various deadly sins. I was an optimist who loved women, two things that never failed to get me into trouble.
    Even now, five minutes after greeting Veronica Lake and just having begun the mating dance, my spirit was already racing down the runway toward takeoff. Already thinking, I wonder when I can ask her to Connecticut?
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    I wanted to know what her back looked like, what other authors she read, how her breath smelled. I was thinking how much I enjoyed her honesty, the direct eye contact, the way she threw her hands around like an Italian when she spoke. I liked her before I knew her, but that was