Two Much!

28

And then i wrote, “The front of the card shows a yawning grave. Inside, the card says, ‘Drop in any time.’ ”

That was at three o’clock, back in my office, shortly before Bart called Betty from L.A. Sucrets had eased my throat, Excedrin had dulled my aches and pains, and Mediquik had stunned my stinging earlobe. My ribs appeared to be intact, though there were spreading bruises on my right side, and I was seated in relative calm at my desk. After phoning the Daily News to reassure myself that Bart’s flight hadn’t crashed or been hijacked, I dialed Betty’s number.

“Kainair reseedonce.”

“Hi, Nikki, this is Bart.” I shouted a bit, like someone calling long distance. “Is Betty there?”

“Hold on one moment, pleeze.”

So I held on one moment, massaging my sore ribs. Get even with Volpinex, I have to get even with Volpinex.

“Hello? Bart?”

“Hi there, sweetheart!” I shouted. “Well, I’m here!”

“Oh, I’m happy you called,” she said. “That was nice of you.”

“Yep,” I said. “The flight was easy, Joe met me at the airport, and here I am.”

“Did you see that girl yet?”

“Heck, no,” I said. “I just got here. Joe has the doctor’s phone number, so I’ll call him next and see what I’m supposed to do.”

“What’s the weather there?”

“Hot,” I said, telling her what this morning’s Times had told me, with its national weather map. “Hotter than New York. I bet it’s a hundred.”

“Really? That must be awful.”

“Well, it’s air-conditioned where I am, and Joe’s car is air-conditioned, so it isn’t too bad. Boy, it’s funny, you know? It’s only noon here.”

“You’re probably suffering jet lag,” she said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You know,” she said, “Art’s really mad about you going away.”

My, how news can travel fast. I said, “Art is? What for?”

“He told Liz he was going to throw you out of the business because you came to help but then you didn’t do anything, and now you’ve run out on him.”

“Well, that dirty rat,” I said, with honest outrage. “He told me himself I should take a few days off, while he was doing that auditing business.”

“All I know is what Liz told me.”

“Well,” I said, “I’ll get back there in a day or two, and straighten things out with that brother of mine.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be involved in that business of his anyway,” she said. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if you were my business manager, with a salary and everything?”

“You mean, live on you?” I sounded really boy scout when I said that.

“Of course not. I have a business manager now, so you’d just take his place.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, that might be all right. Though I don’t like the idea of getting somebody else fired for no reason at all.”

“Well, he could still be my lawyer, but you’d be my business manager, that’s all.”

“Lawyer? You mean Volpinex?”

“Oh, no, he’s not my lawyer. I have somebody of my own.”

Which was good news. I said, “But your man is lawyer and business manager both?”

“It’s always been more convenient that way.”

“Well, I think it would probably be better management to have two different people for those two different jobs.”

“There, you see? You’re already talking like my business manager.”

I laughed boyishly. “I guess I am,” I said.