Last Night by James Salter Read Free Book Online Page A

had majored in music but hadn’t done anything with it. She had a wonderful way on the telephone, as if she’d known you for years.
    In the elevator, Kathrin said,
    — God, he’s cute.
    — Who?
    — Your doorman. What’s his name?
    — Santos. He’s from Colombia someplace.
    — What time does he get off is what I want to know.
    — For God’s sake.
    — That’s what they always asked. When I was tending.
    — Here we are.
    — No, really. Do you ever ask him to change a lightbulb or something?
    Leslie was searching for the key to her door.
    — That’s the super, Leslie said. He’s another story.
    As they went in, she said,
    — I don’t think there’s anything here but scotch. That’s OK, isn’t it? Bunning drank up everything else.
    She went to the kitchen to get glasses and ice. Kathrin sat on the couch with Jane.
    — Are you still seeing Andrew? she said.
    — Off and on, Jane said.
    — Off and on, that’s what I’m looking for. On and off is more like it.
    Leslie came back with the glasses and ice. She began to make drinks.
    — Well, here’s to you, she said. Here’s to me. It’s going to be hard moving out of here.
    — You’re not going to get to keep the apartment? Kathrin said.
    — Twenty-six hundred a month? I couldn’t afford it.
    — Aren’t you going to get something from Bunning?
    — I’m not going to ask for anything. Some of the furniture—I can probably use that—and maybe a little something to get me by the first three or four months. I can stay with my mother if I have to. I hope I don’t have to. Or I could stay with you, couldn’t I? she asked Kathrin.
    Kathrin had a walk-up on Lexington, one room painted black with mirrors on one wall.
    — Of course. Until one of us killed the other, Kathrin said.
    — If I had a boyfriend, it would be no problem, Leslie said, but I was too busy taking care of Bunning to have a boyfriend.
    — You’re lucky, she said to Jane, you’ve got Andy.
    — Not really.
    — What happened?
    — Nothing, really. He wasn’t serious.
    — About you.
    — That was part of it.
    — So, what happened? Leslie said.
    — I don’t know. I just wasn’t interested in the things he was interested in.
    — Such as? Kathrin said.
    — Everything.
    — Give us an idea.
    — The usual stuff.
    — What?
    — Anal sex, Jane said. She’d made it up, on an impulse. She wanted to break through somehow.
    — Oh, God, Kathrin said. Makes me think of my ex.
    — Malcolm, said Leslie, so, where is Malcolm? Are you still in touch?
    — He’s over in Europe. No, I never hear from him.
    Malcolm wrote for a business magazine. He was short, but a very careful dresser—beautiful, striped suits and shined shoes.
    — I wonder how I ever married him, Kathrin said. I wasn’t very foresighted.
    — Oh, I can see how it happened, Leslie said. In fact, I saw how it happened. He’s very sexy.
    — For one thing, it was because of his sister. She was great. We were friends from the first minute. God, this is strong, Kathrin said.
    — You want a little more water?
    — Yes. She gave me my first oyster. Am I supposed to eat that? I said. I’ll show you how, she said, just throw them back and swallow. It was at the bar in Grand Central. Once I had them I couldn’t stop. She was so completely up front. Are you sleeping with Malcolm? she asked me. We’d hardly met. She wanted to know what it was like, if he was as good as he looked.
    Kathrin had drunk a lot of wine in the restaurant and a cocktail before that. Her lips glistened.
    — What was her name? Jane asked.
    — Enid.
    — Oh, beautiful name.
    — So, anyway, he and I went off—this was before we were married. We had this room with nothing in it but a window and a bed. That’s when I was introduced to it.
    — To what? Leslie said.
    — In the ass.
    — And?
    — I liked it.
    Jane was suddenly filled with admiration for her, admiration and embarrassment. This was not like the thing she had made up, it was actual. Why