a great time, maybe. She likes nice things, so I want her to think I do, too. I said the new car isn’t ready yet, because all the extras have to be installed. I told her someone will drop me off at her place.”
Stan was shaking his head in disbelief. Since his friend was apparently hopelessly infatuated, thinking that lies and deception would lead to love, instead of trying to converse with him rationally, he realized that the best means of communication would be ridicule. “I’m sure Helen would like to do that for you.”
“I’m driving my car,” Bill responded tersely, irritated by the remembrance of Helen abandoning him. “I’ll just park it out of sight.”
“What happens when Donna drives you home? You’re going to hitchhike back to her place?”
“I’m staying the night,” Bill said confidently.
“Oh, really? Does she know?”
“She invited me to the barbecue. What do you think?”
“That she wants a party companion, like Helen said. What makes you think that isn’t true?”
“I know it,” declared Bill dreamily. “This time...”
“You’ve found a sex-worker, who happens to own a salon and likes driving strange men from barbecues right into her bed,” spurted out Stan sarcastically.
“Sounds sort of appetizing,” remarked Bill, delighted with the idea.
“For five-hundred bucks an hour.”
“That’s too much,” argued Bill. “I’ll bring chocolates and flowers. That’ll be enough for her.”
“Bring your luggage, too. She should let you move right in.”
“I was planning to leave a change of clothes in the car,” admitted Bill, “in case she wants me to stay Sunday, too.”
“Bring everything. Rent a moving van, and be ready to unload all your stuff the next morning.”
Bill considered Stan’s mocking suggestion seriously. “I’ll just need clothes. The rest I could toss. None of it’s worth much. I’m sure her house has everything.”
“When you awake from this teenage fantasy, tell me,” demanded Stan, tired of the silliness. “I’m advising you to drop Donna. Throw yourself at Helen, grovel for her forgiveness, and ask her out. How you can be so blind to your unbelievable good luck, is beyond me.”
That was not the sort of advice that Bill wanted to hear or consider, so he sulked for a few moments, scraping his plate to gather any grains of rice he had missed. Stan had to finish a good-sized portion of his food still, so he was content to let the conversation lapse. Besides, he thought his silence might persuade Bill to set a new priority; peer pressure can have a beneficial effect sometimes.
Stan’s well-meaning interference in Bill’s affairs, however, failed to make any difference. When Bill finally spoke, he asked him where he should go to buy chocolates and flowers. “I need good ones,” Bill said. “Not super expensive, but nice enough to impress someone. I don’t know where to go. Linda didn’t like what I gave her.” Although Bill didn’t say who might be the recipient of these gifts, he didn’t have to. It was clear that he still had the same plans for Saturday.
Stan’s response was quick, brutal, and ruthless. He supplied his friend with information about the most costly and exclusive places he could think of for those gifts.
That evening, as Bill was walking up to the entrance of his apartment building with his briefcase in hand, Helen, accompanied by Tom, came out of the front doors. They were attractively attired in fine, informal summer clothes. Helen wore a dress and Tom a blazer. It was their first date. They were absorbed in conversation and didn’t notice Bill, although the distance between them was only about sixty feet.
Bill noticed them, however. Although he had vowed never to speak to Helen again after what she had done to him on Sunday, he had not counted on seeing her in the company of another man, especially a man like Tom, who was handsome, well-dressed, and seemed to be of some importance. This was an unexpected development, a complete surprise. Bill was accustomed to Helen running after him, trying to talk to him, dote on him, entrap him. But she wasn’t doing that now. She was talking to another man, entirely unaware of his presence.
When the couple had come close, Bill startled them by saying, “Hi, Helen.”
Helen looked at him. A wave of disgust washed over her face. She wanted to pass him in silence, but the recollection of a feeling, not yet extinguished, forced her to say a cold “Hi, Bill.”
When Bill saw that she intended to walk past without saying anything more, he asked, “Where are you