82 Desire by Smith Julie

Author:Smith, Julie [Smith, Julie]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

Ray could remember it like it was yesterday—the first time he ever met Russell Fortier. He and Lucille and Margaret Ann had been on one of those scouting weekends families go on to scope out colleges. They had had two days away from Ronnie, who was in what Cille called a “bad stage of development,” meaning he stayed holed up in his room all the time, probably masturbating, coming out only to heap scorn on everyone and everything in his immediate vicinity.

Margaret Ann tended to get sulky around him, but in fact that wasn’t her nature at all, a delightful fact Ray had almost forgotten. The three of them had had meals together, had gone shopping, even sandwiched a movie in between appointments, and his daughter hadn’t once tried to duck out of sight, embarrassed to be seen with her parents. At Vanderbilt, she’d acquitted herself splendidly, chatting and asking intelligent questions as if there was something she cared about besides The X-Files. Ray had for the first time a sense of who she really was, the nearly formed adult they’d be shipping off next fall.

They got back late Sunday night, and even after the flight and the seemingly endless drive across the causeway, he had felt exhilarated. Margaret Ann went off to her room, Ronnie didn’t come out of his, and he and Cille had an unaccustomed nightcap, drinking to the excellent job they’d done, bringing up this child to be a credit to her age and sex and social position. In fact, they were feeling so warm and fuzzy about it all, they went upstairs and made love.

Ray was feeling on top of the world when he went in to work the next day. It wasn’t ten o’clock before the phone rang and an unfamiliar voice spoke to him: “Mr. Boudreaux. This is Russell Fortier over at United Oil. I wonder if I could talk you into having lunch with me?”

Just like that. Lunch, for no reason. These Big Oil bozos behaved this way—as if anyone in the world would be thrilled to pieces just to spend a couple of hours in their boozy presence.

Ray decided to jolly him along. “United? Really? I used to work there myself.”

“Oh, yeah, we all know you—bought a lease from us and built yourself a nice little company. Must be nice being your own boss.”

“Can’t beat it.”

“How about Galatoire’s on Friday?”

Ray didn’t know what this guy wanted, but he evidently thought he was going to get it—Russell Fortier had the confidence of some high school football captain who didn’t know any better. Ray said, “I’d rather eat my gun.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Last thing I want to do is get into that kind of trouble.” Galatoire’s on Friday was more like Mardi Gras than lunch. People went at noon and didn’t come out till six P.M. It was a place for a power lunch in the networking sense only, unless of course you were the object of the power play—in which case, it was a great place to get you drunk and friendly toward your host.

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