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“My wife, that’s what there is to think about,” Wally shot out. Heidi fell silent and looked at a wall. “I’m sorry.” Her customer leaned forward out of his chair, his elbows set on his thighs. “My wife’s pregnant, really pregnant, and I just thought I’d treat myself to one night in the city to tide me over till the baby’s out—” Wally cut himself off and rolled his spine against the chairback. “Do you get many men like me? Decent men who just want to get it all out of their system so they can go on living their lives of quiet desperation?” Heidi looked again at her customer. “I don’t know. I haven’t been doing this for a long while.” Now it was Wally who looked perplexed. “Just how long have you been doing this?” Heidi allowed herself a smile even as a tear welled up in one eye. “You’re not the first gentleman who’s visited me here.” “Gentlemen, that’s what you call them,” the present one observed with two firm grips of the ends of the chairarms. “Call me Wally.” Heidi wiped away the trail of the tear that had already slid down one cheek. “Stop this! Either we do business or you leave. Now.” Wally managed a smile. “Oh, no you don’t. I paid for your services for the night. We do what I say we do. We’re doing business just by sitting here and talking.” “Very well.” Heidi crossed one blackskirted leg over another and set a hand on either side of her body. “What shall we talk about, then?” Wally rested the back of his head against the departing curve of the chairtop. “Let’s talk about where we’re from.” |