The Hurricane Sisters by Dorothea Benton Frank Read Free Book Online

one-bedroom. 2F. Wow. What a wonderful coincidence!”
    “Yes. It is . How’s Liz? And the kids?”
    “Oh, they’re all fine. What are you up to these days?”
    “Oh, let’s see . . . after I stopped modeling full-time, I became the face of a line of cosmetics for Kohl’s and I have a line of bed and bath linen for them too. And I do some costume jewelry for a department store chain in Argentina. It keeps me busy, hopping all over the place to cut new store ribbons and attend special events.”
    “I imagine it does. Are you on your way out?”
    “Yeah, meeting a friend for an early supper.”
    “In this weather?”
    “I know, but you know me. Never let a little thing like a blizzard get in between me and some fun.” She laughed and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. Spontaneous laughter and cheek kissing came easily to girls like Sophia. In fact, most things in life were hers just for the asking. And why not? She smelled like something I wanted to drink. Jesus! When I felt her breath on my face, I broke a full-body cold sweat. It was ridiculous.
    “Well, then . . . take care,” I said and watched the movement of her fur as she passed me until she reached the door. Meow. “We should . . .”
    “Yeah! Let’s get together and catch up! 2F, right?”
    “Yes,” I said, committing adultery with every part of my heart and soul.
    In my mind, we were naked, going crazy like I don’t know what—rutting animals—with Barry White music thumping bass in the background. I was a teenaged boy again. For this reason, I didn’t run upstairs, call Liz, and tell her that her old friend lived in our building. In fact, I never told Liz that Sophia was living in our building and still drop-dead gorgeous. And even though Liz was still a beautiful woman, she had lost her joie de vivre and it showed. Poor Liz.
    So around nine thirty that same night, my doorbell rang. I knew it had to be Sophia. I wished then that I had shaved and showered. I got caught up in a Knicks game on cable and probably looked like hell. When I opened the door, stubbly and shoeless, there she stood with that infamous mane of thick blond hair tumbling over one shoulder. Literally, I felt weak.
    She said, “I know it’s a little late but I thought you might share a nightcap with me at my place. It stopped snowing and the view is incredible.”
    “Oh, I don’t know . . . ,” I said, fooling neither of us.
    “Oh, come on. I’ve got a fire going and it’s so beautiful outside . . .”
    “Well, if you’ve got a fire and all . . . I mean, it would be a shame to waste it, right?”
    I thought, Oh boy, this is dangerous.
    “Get your shoes,” she said, waiting in the doorway.
    “Okay. Here, come inside!”
    “Thanks!”
    She walked in like she owned the place. I stepped back to let her pass and hurried to find my loafers.
    “So I’m looking forward to meeting your husband . . .”
    “Never married,” she said. “Marriage just wasn’t in the cards.”
    “Wow,” I said and added, “well, marriage isn’t for everyone. It’s probably overrated.”
    I could feel her moving around behind me, knowing she was looking at everything. I pulled my shoes out from under the sofa and sat to put them on and I wondered how I could be thinking the lewd and lascivious things I was thinking when I knew she used to be my wife’s great friend.
    I looked up. She had a picture of Liz in her hands, staring at it hard with narrow eyebrows.
    “That’s Liz in Greece,” I said.
    “I never liked her much, to be perfectly honest,” she said.
    Problem solved.
    “Let’s go,” I said, scooping up my keys.
    So you know how that went. We got to the top floor and she poured a liberal amount of twenty-year-old single malt into heavy crystal tumblers. We sipped. The view was indeed breathtaking.
    I remembered saying, “You can’t beat the Chrysler Building at night.”
    She agreed. After that the details get a little fuzzy. I’m pretty sure she started it.