A Million for Eleanor: A Contemporary Story on Love and Money Read Free Page A

will never bother to try, while fools who search for it all the time won’t find anything anyway.”
    “Down with music for now, all right?” Elisa looked into his eyes. “It’s not the first attack this month, is it?”
    “It is, I swear. Everything was fine since August. And even then it was my fault. I spent too much time in the sunshine bareheaded.”
    “You can’t blame the sunshine now.”
    “I’m not going to. I’m just very nervous.”
    “What if you get overwhelmed and end up in a hospital like when we were watching that tennis match and your Russian princess lost?”
    “It was the final of the US Open,” he said discontentedly, unhappy that Elisa brought up the subject. “And had it not been for the netball in that break-point rally, everything could have been different.”
    “But it was what it was. You fainted and spent three days on a drip. Thank God she didn’t see how you were taken away.”
    “Oh, please. The drip wasn’t even necessary. And I am still waiting for your answer.”
    “Well, mother told me everything,” Elisa said, landing on the piano bench. “And I decided you would need me tonight.”
    “So, you agree?”
    “Yes. I am curious to see her.”
    “Or you want to see whether I am right in my attitude? Now you know for sure what I think of her.”
    “Maybe,” Elisa shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t really know, but I know I should go.”
    “In that case you can start getting ready for an unforgettable evening. No rush,” he added, noting the worried look she threw at her watch. “Even if she agrees the dinner won’t start until nine.”
    “It’s quarter past four now,” Elisa announced as if they were already late. “What do you mean by if she agrees ? Do you think she won’t?”
    “I don’t know. She remains the only woman outside my family who managed to surprise me more than once.”
    Unwilling to take another minute from his sister, he returned to his study, the only room in the house that could be accessed only by him. He automatically locked the door and came up to a huge walnut desk in the middle of the room. On its green felt top stood two fashionable black leather valises that could suit equally well a travelling attaché or a cocaine courier. He had filled them up the day before, and every time he looked at them they made him evoke the plan he was going to realize, testing it for both necessity and sensibility.
    Having gazed at the valises long enough and come to the same conclusion, he walked up to the window and opened it, letting in a gust of wind that would have gladly picked up some papers from the desk, had its surface not been as clean as a freshly moaned tennis court. A serene October afternoon was nearing its end, and even though the twilight was not to be expected for another hour, the sunshine had already lost its intensity, fading into the sharp blue translucency of the sky. He took several deep breathes through the nose, trying to imbue himself with the subtle scent of fallen foliage, looked at the people walking the street so busily as if theirs were the most important affairs, and shut the window, killing another gust of wind that stormed into the room in search of prey. Then he took a cell-phone from his pocket and dialed a number, looking at the valises again.
    “Good afternoon, my good man,” he said into the phone. “How do you do? Very well, thank you. Do you think you could do me a favor? I am looking to get an iridium ring with a few lines engraved inside… That’s correct, iridium. As pure as you can get. Solid. How about Monday, around seven? Perfect. I will see you there.”
    He put the phone back into the pocket and sat down on the couch, a neat item capable of unfolding itself into a bed of considerable size and acceptable resiliency. He grabbed a thick book in a red worn-out cover from the nearby shelf and tried to read, but every word triggered too many unrelated associations and memories. After a minute of