Trouble Read Free Page A

down.”
    “Go lie down on my bed,” she said. “You can close the door. There’s Advil on the nightstand.”
    “Indrani!” I said, laughing.
    “All right,” she said. “I’m just disappointed that you’re going. I was looking forward to hanging out with you after everyone left.”
    “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Things are just a little tense at home lately.”
    “All the more reason to stay here,” she replied, but she said it with a laugh, offering it as a joke about her own pushy neediness. “You can tell me all about it.”
    “I will,” I said. It wasn’t her fault that I’d been caught in a stupid fib and just realized I had to leave my husband. “I’ll come and help you clean up tomorrow. My last client leaves at two, and then I’m free till the second week of January.”
    She looked overjoyed at the thought of having company amid the dregs of her party. “That’s all right,” she said. “I know you’re busy. What about Wendy?”
    “I’ll bring her along if she wants to come, but she’ll probably be glad to get rid of me. I’ll get here around three at the latest.”
    “You think people had fun?”
    “They’re still having fun,” I said. “It’s early.” I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then went to find my coat and bag. I did not see Mick on my way out the door. Five minutes later, I was out in the icy air of Riverside Drive, heading down toward the subway stop at 103rd Street and Broadway. I inhaled the bracingly fresh air through my nose and hunkered down into my warm, sensible knee-length down coat, glad I’d worn it over my rather tight bottle green dress and thin tights. I tripped along the sidewalk, unaccustomed to heels. On Broadway, I considered hailing a cab, then thought about walking as far as I could until my feet gave out. Instead of either option, I suddenly swerved and ducked into a bar, pulled in by the inviting yellow-and-blue neon I’d glimpsed out of the corner of my eye.
    Inside, it was festive, warm, and loud, a crowd of people drinking together. Whether or not they had arrived together or had known one another before, alcohol and holiday cheer had caused them to form a cohesive-feeling group. I took off my coat and slung it over my arm, then squirmed my way up to the bar and waited for the bartender to notice me. I could use another glass of wine before I head home, I thought. I almost never got to misbehave; I hadn’t had a night out by myself in who knew how long. Tomorrow was my last day of work before vacation. Who cared if I was hungover? I’d go to Indrani’s after my last client and have a hair of the dog. Then I’d go home and face Anthony, who’d be asleep when I got home and probably gone by the time I woke up. He often did radio talk shows in the early morning or went down to his office at the New School, where he taught political science.
    I sensed, rather than saw, the man sitting to my left at the bar notice me and keep his eyes on my face. Hoping to discourage him from talking to me, I gazed fixedly at the bartender, a busty but skinny girl in a low-cut minidress.
    “What are you drinking?” the guy next to me asked, shouting a little over the din.
    I ignored him, for lack of any better option. The bartender, in turn, ignored me, but she had plenty to occupy her attention.
    “Hey,” he shouted into my ear. “Lemme buy you a drink.”
    I shook my head without making eye contact.
    He slapped a ten-dollar bill down on the bar and hailed the bartender. She came right over and shot him an inquiring look. He jerked his thumb in my direction.
    I leaned over the bar and yelled, “A glass of red wine, please, but I’ll pay for it.”
    She raised her eyebrow at my new pal with a disbelieving smile and took his ten. I still did not look at him. When the bartender returned with my glass of red wine and three ones, he waved away the change. She flashed him a smile. No wonder she was on his side here; she knew I wouldn’t have tipped