You'requite the artist, she said to Jessie. I didn't get the job because I look good in panty hose,Chief, she said, cutting him a wry look. Long lashes against aplump cheek flushed with sleep. He could hear nothing but the voice in hismind and the pounding of his pulse in his ears.
He must be sad, she said quietly, carefully laying the drawing down. She would become a memory, someonewho had barged into his life for a week, shared a bed with him for acouple of nights, and moved on. Perhaps because she felt perilously close to loss forthe first time in her life, Her marriage was in trouble. I've always been the one people turned to.
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