Helen had taken great pains to pick out the special ivory-colored dress with the scooped back and neckline. ‘Why don’t you relax?’ George sugge...ted. ‘There’s no need to be nervous.’ ‘I’m not nervous!’ Helen insisted. ‘You are—and you’re starting to make me nervous, too.’ Her answer was vintage Helen: denial and counterattack. George expected it and took it without offense. He silently congratulated his ability to accurately predict her. He wasn’t nervous. It was true that he had reluctantly. Quietly seething, talking through clenched teeth, she hissed, “What the fuck do you mean calling me here?”“Bank of America savings account. Cash deposits on June 7th and 22nd. Come see me now.”I hung up, winning that game two to one.Twenty-five minutes later she called me from the hotel lobby. I said, “Room 1016.” Hung up again, smiling to myself.Cassandra had changed from her work outfit into white jeans and a white top. Her attitude had changed too. Fake-casual was now angry-scared.I had. More

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