Spirit Lost Read Free Page A

“Have you eaten?”
    “Yes, yes,” Harrison said, pinching up his trousers as he sat so that the crease stayed put. “Very pleasant meal. When do you and John actually leave, dear?”
    “The movers come tomorrow, and we’ll spend the night here with Anne and Mark,” Willy said. “Our boat reservations are for the day after tomorrow.”
    “Quite a change,” Harrison remarked, watching Willy carefully. “Must be quite an ordeal for you.”
    “Oh, I don’t think ordeal is the right word at all!” Willy exclaimed. “This is reallyan adventure, Harrison. I’m excited! I’m looking forward to it all.”
    “I’m so glad, dear,” Harrison said. “Tell me about your new home. I’ve been to Nantucket, of course.”
    Willy was careful as she talked. She was never sure what it was that Harrison wanted from her. John had told her many times to be wary of him, for like many elegant men he had a bitchy side to him. As president of the Blackstone Group, Harrison was perfect in almost every way; his smooth elegance, his old-money style, won clients over easily. And he was a fine executive, good at finances and at dealing with his employees. But he always seemed to be trying to score points off his best people, John included, in some kind of unspoken game to which only he knew the rules.
    “It’s a lovely old house,” Willy said. “Greek revival style, with steps up from the sidewalk to the front and back doors. Shingled, of course, you know Nantucket and its gray shingles—oh, Harrison, would you excuse me? Anne is clearing the table and setting out dessert, and I really should help her.”
    “Of course, my dear,” Harrison said, rising. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
    “You know, you could add a log and stoke up the fire,” Willy said. Never capable of telling anyone off, she had become good at smooth escapes. “That would be so nice of you. It’s been neglected.”
    She scurried off into the kitchen, plates and glasses in her hand. At the sink, with running water obscuring their words, Willy said to Anne, “That man! Have you talked to him? He’s like Satan, I swear, all polished and silky on the outside but full of malevolence beneath. I don’t know how John managed to work with him all these years.”
    “At least he puts on a pleasant front,” Anne said. “You should meet Mark’s newest partner in the firm. He’s brilliant, everyone says, but so caustic, so aggressive, always ready for a fight. It’s just part of the rat race, isn’t it, putting up with these people.”
    Anne and Willy cleared the dining room table of the main course and took their time in the kitchen cleaning up. Two other women at the party, a receptionist and a copywriter from the agency, came into the kitchen with plates, gravitating to where the women were. The four stood around discussing clothes and periods and Anne’s pregnancy. Erica did not come in; she always made it a point to stay away from women and kitchens.
    “We’d better get the dessert and coffee out on the table,” Anne said at last.
    The chocolate mousse, trembling on its silver platter, the fresh fruit, arranged in a pretty pattern and sprinkled very lightly with powdered sugar, and the silver pots of coffee and decaffeinated coffee were set out on the long dining room table. Once again the party moved back into the dining room, and conversation slowed as everyone ate. Willy and Anne moved around the two front rooms, setting out trays with liqueur glasses and a selection of after-dinner drinks that glistened like liquid emeralds, rubies, and topaz in their bottles. The fire blazed in the living room, throwing off dancing lights, and Anne and Willy stood together a moment, smiling at each other, appreciating the splendid moment. Laughter came from the dining room, and then the sound of conversation picked up, and people began drifting into the living room, jovial now, replete.
    “This is a lovely party, Anne,” Willy said.
    Anne looked at