The Best of Everything by Rona Jaffe Read Free Book Online

to her desk, holding on to the door as she went through. Those drinks had been stronger than she thought, and it was late. She didn't want him to notice she was high, he'd think she was a real little hick. Some food and coffee were just what she needed. As she powdered her feverish face she heard him speaking on the telephone in his office. She could not hear the words, but the tone of his voice was weary and apologetic. He was calling his wife, she was sure, to say he would not be home for dinner. She felt sorry for his wife, who had probably been looking forward all day to being with him again, and she felt rather sorry for him because he had to eat a sandwich in a greasy coffee shop and then come upstairs and dictate for two more hours to his secretary. The only one she didn't feel sorry for was herself.
    "Good evening, Mr. Shalimar," tlie waitress said cozily, as if he were a habitue. There were little tables in the darkened bar section of the coffee shop, and the main part where April had eaten lunch was brightly hghted and closed off. Mr. Shalimar led her to a table in the corner.
    "Two Scotches with water on the side, and two steaks," he said. "Is that all right, April?"
    "Yes, sir, fine." Things weren't so blurry in the dark, and from somewhere near the ceiling soft music was playing. He was sitting next to her on the leather banquette, and he leaned forward, looking at her closely.
    "You're a very beautiful girl, d'you know that?"
    "Thank you," she said, embarrassed.

    "Have a lot of boy friends? What kind of man do you like?"
    "I don't have any boy friends here in New York," she admitted. "I don't know any. Back home I had a lot of dates, I guess."
    "Anyone special?"
    "Oh, no."
    "What kind of man appeals to you? What kind of man would you like to marry?"
    She had discussed the question many times with her sorority sisters in the long, intimate conversations girls hold in the night, and she recited her answer surely. "An understanding man. Someone kind and intelligent. He wouldn't have to be handsome as long as he seemed handsome to me. I guess if you love someone you think he's good-looking, and if you dislike someone or he's mean to you, you get to hate his looks."
    "A very good answer," he murmured. He tapped his glass to hers. "I hope you get him."
    "Me too," she said. She drank her Scotch and felt like giggling.
    "You have a devastating smile. When you meet that boy he won't have a chance."
    This time she did giggle. "I wish I would meet him. I've never been in love—just crushes on boys, but I knew that wasn't real. I wish I were in love with someone who loved me."
    "And what about funF' He was looking at her more closely. "Wouldn't you like to meet someone you could have fun with, without necessarily being in love?"
    "Yes ..." she said. She wasn't quite sure what he meant. The words were innocent enough, the wise words of a father to an impatient, romantic daughter, but there was something about the way he said "fun" that made it seem different and infinitely more mysterious than the kind of fun she'd always had with boys or anyone. "I guess so," she said.
    He looked at her warily. "What kind of things do the young boys say to the young girls nowadays? What do they say when they want to . . . make love?"
    "Say?" she said. "They don't say anything. They mostly just grab."
    He laughed. "That must be very unpleasant."
    How understanding he was! "It is," she said with reHef. "I just hate it."
    "How do college boys make love?"

    She was a little embarrassed to be talking about kissing and petting with this man—first of all, she had never discussed sex with any man in her life, certainly not even her father, and secondly Mr. Shal-imar was from a world so removed from her own that she could not imagine how he could possibly be interested in her amatem-ish little jfront-seat battles. "I'm not exactly an authoritv," she said, smiling.
    "Every girl is an authority about her own life," he said.
    "No wonder you're an