Riverside Park. Laura Wormer Van

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СКАЧАТЬ Mom,” Howard said, hanging up the phone, “but I’m afraid I have to go out.”

      When Howard saw Celia behind the bar at Captain Cook’s he thought, How weird is that? Amanda had just asked him about Celia today and now here he was walking in like the regular he wasn’t.

      “How are you?” Howard greeted the insurance salesman who was sitting at the bar, shaking his hand and giving him a pat on the shoulder.

      “Nervous as hell,” the insurance salesman said, tossing back what smelled like whiskey.

      Celia came over to their side of the bar. “He’s worried he’s going to have to sell insurance for the rest of his life,” she told Howard.

      “Hi, Celia.”

      “Hi.”

      “And he’s scared you’re going to give up on him,” a strange woman with a lot of makeup said from the corner of the bar.

      “He’s been hitting it pretty hard,” another customer explained.

      “A Beck’s, please, Celia, thank you,” Howard said, sliding onto a stool. He looked at the writer. “I don’t know about your career in insurance, but I did get an offer from an Australian publisher for UK rights on your novel. It’s a modest offer, but you’ll be published in Australia, England, Ireland—”

      The writer threw himself at Howard to hug him. The customers at this end of the bar cheered. Howard laughed, slapping the writer’s back, savoring the moment. This was the joy of his job. (Telling a writer that every publisher in America had rejected their manuscript was the worst.)

      Celia placed a frosted mug and a bottle of Beck’s in front of Howard. “Nicely done.”

      She was a pretty girl. It was funny, he didn’t remember her as such. While the writer grilled him for details, Howard watched Celia and began to realize why she might have given Amanda pause for thought. She was one of those seriously AWOL Fairfield County girls, a fascinating Waspy creature who could exude a kind of smoldering sexuality.Maybe it was the way her jeans fit her. She had a great ass.

      When the writer left to use the bathroom Celia put a dish of pretzels down in front of Howard. “Thank God you had good news. He’s been depressed for as long as I’ve been serving him.”

      Her eyes were nice.Very dark. Like her hair. “Which is how long?”

      “Three years,” she said, leaving to get another patron a drink.

      When she came back Howard told her, “There is a school of thought that says it’s good to keep writers depressed because then they stay home and write.”

      She laughed. It made her much more attractive. She had a great smile.

      “I hear you ran into my wife early this morning.”

      Her eyebrows went up. “I did?”

      “In the lobby. Around three this morning?”

      Celia still looked uncertain and held up a finger, signaling that Howard was to hold that thought while she got another customer a drink.

      Howard saw the writer standing just outside the bar area, holding a cell phone to one ear and covering his other with a hand. He guessed he was calling his wife with the good news.

      “I got sort of hammered here after work last night,” Celia admitted on her return. “I think I remember seeing her. With the baby. Your wife has really beautiful hair, right?”

      “Yes, she does.”

      “And absolutely huge tits,” Celia added.

      Howard did a double take.

      Celia covered her mouth, aghast. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. My roommate and I watch this show on BBC America, What Not to Wear, and this lady Trinny’s always saying stuff like that so we’ve been saying it to each other. I didn’t mean to be rude—”

      “Miss?” a customer called.

      “I meant it as a compliment,” she said, moving away. “I mean, look.” She gestured to her own breasts and then made a gesture of futility.

      No, there wasn’t much there, Howard had to agree. But Celia did have terrific legs and that great swing to her ass.

      “My wife thinks I’m lying about the Australian publisher,” the writer announced upon his return. “She thinks I’m saying it so I can stay out and drink and not have to deal with her parents. The busboy says he knows you, by the way. That one, over there. Joey or something.”

      Howard smiled. “Hey! Jason!”

      The teenager untangled himself from a tray of dirty dishes and came over, smiling and wiping his hands on his apron before shaking Howard’s hand. “Hey, Mr. Stewart.”

      “Long time no see,” Howard joked. Jason was a great kid, but really shy. Of course, with a mother like Rosanne, Howard imagined it would be hard to get a word in edgewise. “Was that turkey gross or what?”

      “It wasn’t that bad,” the boy said nicely. “At least it didn’t have any buckshot in it this year.”

      They laughed.

      “My novel’s getting published,” the writer told Jason.

      “Congratulations. Is Mr. Stewart your agent?”

      “Best agent in the world,” the writer declared, but Jason’s eyes had moved to something behind them. Howard turned to see what he was looking at. Celia. Jason was looking at Celia. When Howard turned back around he could see a rash of scarlet spreading across Jason’s neck.

      Jason had a crush on her.

      “If you want, Jason,” he heard Celia say, “you can have a second break.”

      Jason’s eyes lit up. “Yeah. Yeah! That’d be great,” he stammered.

      “Then you better go and take it before she changes her mind,” Howard said.

      “Yeah. I guess.” Jason stuck his hand out. “Thanks again for dinner, Mr. Stewart.”

      “You’re welcome.”

      “Congratulations again on your book,” Jason said politely as he backed away.

      They turned back around on their stools to lean on the bar. “Seems like a good kid,” the writer said.

      “He is. I think he’s going to do very well.” For some reason this reminded him of the financial mess he was in and it made him feel sick inside. “I think I need a real drink,” Howard announced. “What are you drinking?”

      “Irish Mist.”

      “Sounds good to me.” He looked around. “Where’s Celia?”

      The bartender servicing the other end of the bar came down to Howard. “Can I get you fellas something?”

      “Where’s СКАЧАТЬ