Scott Free Read Free

sensing the tension at the table, he tried his best to look intimidating.
    â€œI think that Mr. Caplan was just leaving,” Sherry said. She got the honorific wrong on purpose.
    Caplan assessed Larry with a single condescending glance. “Indeed I was,” he said. “But just remember, Sherry, one day the public will wake up to your nonsense, and you’ll have to deal with your peers again.” He stood. “When that day comes, I’ll be waiting for you.”
    Now it was Sherry’s turn to be smug. “Dream on, Caplan,” she said. “If I decided to retire tomorrow, my great-grandchildren wouldn’t know how to spend the money I’ve made.”
    Caplan raised his glass in a mock toast. “Until the malpractice suits,” he said.
    Larry watched him walk back to the bar, then slid into his place. “Is that true?” he asked.
    â€œWhat? About malpractice?”
    â€œNo, about your grandchildren not being able to spend all the money you’ve made.”
    Sherry scowled. “Of course not.” Then the scowl turned into a grin. “That’ll happen in two more books.”
    Larry nodded at the dregs in Sherry’s glass. “How far behind am I?”
    â€œTwo.” Then, as if on cue, Carmella reappeared, a new drink balanced on her tray. “Soon to be three.”
    Larry ordered a White Russian (“heavy on the Russian, light on the white”), and finally they were alone in the crowd.
    â€œI suppose you’re wondering why I wanted you here,” Sherry said.
    â€œI only hope that it’s for a long string of clichéd openings like, ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I wanted you here.’ Want to know my sign?”
    Sherry made a face that looked like a snarl. She leaned into the table and Larry joined her. “Have you been to the phone booth that they have the nerve to call a bookstore?” she asked.
    â€œActually, no. And given the fact that we’re at one of the top five ski resorts in North America, with some of the finest powder I’ve ever seen, I can’t imagine why.”
    Sherry was in no mood for irony. “They only have three of my books,” she said. “Actually, to be more precise, they only have three copies of one book— Mirror —and that’s only in paperback. There’s not a single copy of Mirror II . Do you know how embarrassing that is? My seminar is in two days, and they’ve only laid in three paperbacks.”
    Larry looked at her like she’d sprouted leaves. “Sherry, do they carry any hardcovers?”
    Sherry took a sip of her cosmo. “I don’t know.”
    â€œWell, if the store is as small as you say, they probably don’t.”
    â€œWhat about It’s All in Your Smile or The Microwave Mom?” Sherry protested. “They’re both in paperback, and neither of them are in the store.”
    Larry sighed deeply and looked over his shoulder to check on the progress of his drink. “Have you thought about taking a skiing lesson? I mean, my God, Sherry, you need a little life here.”
    â€œI don’t participate in sports where gravity and trees combine as mortal enemies.”
    Larry laughed. “Why are you here? Why take a seminar gig at a ski resort if you hate skiing?”
    â€œYou know damn well why.”
    Larry rolled his eyes. “Right. Brandon and Scott. God forbid they have fun together. You know, there’s something really twisted in all that.”
    â€œWhat’s twisted,” she said, “is that ‘Team Bachelor’ crap. Makes me sick.”
    Sherry tried her best to show a flash of anger, but she knew Larry wouldn’t buy it. They’d known each other too long, gone through too many adventures together. No one fully understood her relationship with Larry—Sherry wasn’t entirely sure she understood it herself—but he was the one person who understood her.