Chapter 5

Terri was having dinner with Matt Schaffner at a fabulous restaurant called the Mediterrania, an eaterie located on N. La Cienega. She was intrigued by her surroundings, realized Matt cared very much indeed if he wanted to blow this much loot merely to wine and dine her. And while she couldn't reciprocate in intensity of feeling, she still felt more than kindly toward him this night.

The restaurant decor was perfect. The massive' stone pillars, the rough, exposed beams, the aged brick walls exuded an aura reminiscent of sun-drenched Mediterranean villas and patios. The waitresses, colorfully gowned in peasant costumes, added greatly to the Mediterrania's charm.

After the sumptuous meal they took a rich-hued aromatic cognac to settle things. By then Terri was feeling very self assured and cosmopolitan indeed. She felt slightly ashamed of her earlier disregard of Matt. Perhaps he wasn't as much of a dud as she'd thought.

At least she could trust him. Which was more than she could say for Lloyd Deming.

Now, as they dawdled, savored the expensive atmosphere, she found it hard to concentrate on Matt's dry shop talk. Instead she glanced around the spacious dining area, studied the beautifully gowned women, wondered at the May-December combinations she saw. The blonde in the V-cut velvet, her breasts all but spilling out; she couldn't be more than 21 or 22. Yet her fawning, pawing dinner companion was easily in his 50's.

The scene made her slightly queasy. What price success?

"I'm sorry, Terri," Matt said, "I must be boring you. Anyone who'd talk business at a time like this...."

She whirled guiltily, forced an attentive smile. "Not at all, Matt. It's interesting. You've got some fine ideas...."

"So fine," he teased, "that if I asked you, you couldn't remember a single thing I'd said."

She grinned shamefacedly. "Well, Matt...."

He reached over, touched her hand lightly. "It's okay, Terri," he said. "It's my fault. I had no business going on like that. Small wonder I have to practically Shanghai you to get you to date me."

"You know it's not that bad, Matt. We always have a wonderful time when we go out together."

"Yeah? Is that why we go out so seldom?"

"Please, Matt. You know I'm very busy. The gym, my acting classes. Otherwise I'm always amenable to a date."

"Why Terri?" he said, his eyes burning into hers. "Why all this busy, busy stuff? Are you seriously considering a movie career? There are other things a woman of your character should be busy with."

"What sort of things, Matt?"

"Things like raising a family, keeping a house, taking care of a loyal, loving husband."

"Who?"

"You know the answer to that, Terri, before you even ask. You know I'm crazy about you."

"And if I'm not ready to settle down yet? If I haven't decided what I want to do with my life? Maybe being a housewife and mother isn't my idea of life's end-all and be-all."

"What is then, Terri?" His smile was small, but gentle.

Terri felt swift mounting irritation. Why does he have to start this? When we're having such fun? "I don't know," she snapped, looking down at her hands. "Do I have to decide right now? I've got time. Maybe I just want to drift for a couple years. Until I find myself."

She frowned. "I told you about Waterloo, about my parents...."

"Yes, you told me. You were rather blue that night as I recall. But that was two months ago. Surely you must have come to some decision concerning your life by now."

"I don't have to, Matt," she argued. "Is there a law or something? Sometimes you remind me of my dad with your talk of goals and responsibility and...."

She glanced up, saw the hurt in his eyes. "I didn't mean it that way, Matt, honest I didn't. It's just that I only recently got away from having someone breathing down my neck all the time. I don't want to jump right back into that frying pan again."

"I understand, Terri. I can't help being terribly concerned about you. I guess my life's wound more up in yours than, by rights, it should be. I've been knocking around eight years longer than you have. I'm an Angeleno by birth, I know what goes on in this crazy city. People who drift, who don't have clear cut goals are begging for trouble."

Recollection of the fiasco with Deming hit Terri. Momentarily she hated Matt for hitting the nail so unerringly on the head. You can say that again, Buster.

"Can we change the subject?" she said, straining for flippancy. "Seems I've gone through this before. With you, with Pam...."

Fearing he'd gone too far, Matt said, "Sorry, Terri. I didn't mean to pry. It's only...." He frowned, balled his hands into fists. "If I only didn't care so much about you, Terri."

Her irritation melted. It was her turn to touch Ms hand. "Don't Matt, please? I'm sorry, but I'm not ready to commit myself as yet. Even on little things. And on something as important as marriage...."

"How about this movie bit? Are you interested? I know that your friend Pam's gone on it, she still believes in fairy tales. Has she converted you?"

"Really, Matt," she smiled modestly. "Do I look like movie star material? When you see the beautiful women all around you? It's silly. Look at that blonde over there. The one with the fat man. If anyone's movie star material...."

"She's too skinny."

"You're prejudiced."

"Hear me out, Terri, please. I think you're beautiful in a unique, quiet way. I think if some of those agents or scouts ever really took a good look at you, looked into your eyes...."

"Matt, you're making me blush."

"I live in constant fear that it'll happen." He dropped his eyes, a burr of emotion on his voice. "Because if it did, I'd never have a ghost of a chance with you. I'd have to buy a ticket to see you. Just like the other slobs."

For long moments neither of them spoke. And moved deeply by the sincerity of Matt's words, by the way his voice had gone shattery at the last. Terri couldn't look directly at him, lest he see the film of tears in her eyes.

She covered his hand with hers. "You're sweet, Matt," she whispered. "Very sweet."

Then she stirred in her chair, put on her gloves, gathered her handbag. "Don't you think we'd best leave? Or have you changed your mind about the show? Nine o'clock, wasn't it?"

They saw an adventure movie that failed to capture Terri's attention. She had more volatile things on her mind. Midway through the feature Matt took her hand. A gesture of affection that Terri permitted. If this little thing made him happy what was the harm, after all?

She wondered if Lloyd Deming had even done anything so square as holding a girl's hand. Probably not. And recalling how devilishly he operated, how his expert finesse had turned her into putty in a matter of minutes, she began to tremble.

"Terri?" Matt asked. "Something wrong?"

"No nothing. Just a chill."

She'd been very glad it was Matt beside her and not Deming.

His courage buoyed up by the small intimacy allowed him in the theatre, Matt dared to kiss Terri as he saw her from the car. Standing in the shadows just outside the door of her apartment building, he timidly raised her chin with his hand, gave her a small, quick peck on the lips.

It was a furtive, frightened kiss, nothing manly in it at all. And yet, taken by surprise as she was, there was something sweet and poignant about it also. Briefly her heart raced, she anticipated a repetition of same.

But no. With a hurried, soft, "Thank you," Matt was hurrying down the steps.

Terri smiled wistfully, somehow pityingly as she saw Matt almost bang the car parked in front of him in Ms hurry to get away.

As she started up the stairs she could still feel the kiss. The smile grew, became mischievous. It was a sweet kiss, a little boy's kiss, she mused. Then she began to giggle, as she reached her floor, she laughed softly to herself.

The laughter died instantly, her happy expression was immediately blasted as Terri let herself into the apartment. As she saw Pam sitting on the davenport, her arms around a weeping, red-eyed redhead she'd never seen before.

"Pam, what is it, what's wrong?"

Pam sent her a fierce glare, put her finger to her lips. Instantly Terri froze, stood there with her mouth agape.

The redhead was apparently drunk or sick. Or both. For she didn't see Terri come in.

In between bouts of wracking sobbing, the tangled incoherent tale of woe gradually took shape.

"I didn't know what to do," the redhead gasped. "God, Pam, if you knew how long I've been after a part, any part. I haven't got a cent left to my name. If I don't get a check from Mom soon, I-I'm gonna have to take to the streets. I don't wanna do that. Then when Larry Coulter told me that Three M Productions was looking for a comedienne type, when he gave me this producer's name...."

She stifled a sob, looked up, saw Terri. "Who...?"

"This's Terri. My roomie. Terri, this's is Kathy.

She's had a bad break. Sit down. You might as well hear this." She held the shaking girl closer. "Go ahead, Kathy. What then?"

"His name was Gary Spallas. 'Yes,' he told me, 'they were still looking for a girl for that part. Was I interested in testing for it?' "

It became more and more obvious to Terri that Kathy had been drinking ever since the as-yet-unrevealed disaster had occurred. She saw the hi-ball glasses on the table, surmised that Pam had helped the cause along.

"Was I interested in a million bucks?" Kathy gulped. "I wanted that part, any part. If you just knew how long I've been chasing, been gettin' the run'round. Oh, if this guy'd just give me a chance. Yes, I told him, yes....

"Then he got this funny look in his eyes and asked about my credits. When I didn't have any, he got all vague again. Then he told me to stand up, he wanted to see my legs, how I walked.

"Next thing I knew he waved me to his desk, he was running his hands on my legs, gettin' real fresh. And when I shook him off, told him I didn't dig that kind of stuff. He smiled and said he expected cooperation from his stars-to-be. If I didn't want to play, well forget it."

Kathy broke into a new spate of weeping, couldn't speak for long moments. "Damn, I wanted that job. I had to have it. I didn't know which way t' turn...."

"And you gave in?" Pam finished for her. "You let the lecher louse have what he wanted?"

"I didn't wanna, I tell you. But when I saw that chance goin' out the window...." Kathy paused, sucked in her breath noisily.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Pam said gently. "Would that help?"

"I don't know," Kathy blubbered. "I suppose it might help to talk to somebody, get the damnable thing off my mind."

Pam motioned Terri to sit down. "Go right ahead, Kathy. We're listening...."

"Right there in his office it happened," Kathy began reluctantly, her voice thick, stopping often to recollect her thoughts. "He sat behind his desk, made me undress in front of him, told me jus' what to do. He kept stopping me, telling me to turn this way'n that, to push out my breasts, to hold 'em lift 'em and pose 'em. He made me come over to where he sat, let him touch me.

"He was a weirdo or something, he wanted me to prance around in just my garter belt, stockings and shoes. He kept thinking up things faster'n I could do 'em."

"The rotten louse," Pam sympathized.

"Then he dragged me behind the desk and made me touch him. When he got all worked up, he wanted me to open his clothes. A real weirdo.

"Then I had to move to him in the chair, he pulled me closer and took me, just like that, made me take care of things. While all the time he kept pulling at my boobs," Kathy's voice broke. "God, I don't wanna tell any more."

"Go ahead," Pam said softly, reassuringly. "Get everything out, honey. It'll be for the best."

"Then he finally got undressed, fooled around me some more. The nut even cleared his desk, made me get on it. Still in my stockings and shoes. He took me standing up, he giggled and called me sick names."

"Damn," Pam groaned.

"Finally he had to finish up. And he put me on his davenport in a nutty position. He like to broke my neck. Talk about slow, I thought he'd never finish."

"And you?"

"I didn't want to, honest. But I couldn't help it. The way he kept working. All of a sudden I began responding. He got a big yak out of that. He was still yakking when I finished."

Kathy began to snuffle again. "Even then he sat there naked, lookin' at me while I dressed, making cracks about my figure, about how good I'd been, about the different poses he'd put me through."

"He wasn't your first, was he?" Pam asked incredulously.

"Yes," Kathy wailed, "he was. I was a virgin until this afternoon. Oh, Pam, he was terrible...."

"So then what?" Pam asked. "Did you get the part?"

"No...." Kathy broke into a new fit of shrill misery. "That's what kills me. When he'd got what he wanted he told me the part's filled. And we've both had our fun. If ever I hated a man, wanted to kill somebody...."

"You poor kid," Pam soothed. "That rotten, double-crossing animal! Of all the...."

"The corker was he gave me ten bucks. Ten lousy bucks! He tore my stockings, I should get myself a new pair. He laughed at me when I started bawling, laughed me right outta that office. He said I should keep in touch . ."

Terri felt choking hatred gather in her throat, and she wondered after" the decency of a world such as this. Was there no justice, no shred of compassion and humanity?

Pam comforted the hysterical girl, patted her shuddering back, poured soothing endearments over her.

When Kathy calmed slightly, Pam half raised her. "C'mon, baby. I'll take you up to your apartment, tuck you in. Get a good night's sleep. You'll feel better in the morning, I know you will. The world always looks pretty black at a time like this. C'mon, honey. Upstairs."

As Pam ushered the crushed girl out the door, some of her consoling words carried back to Terri. "It couldn't been worse, Kathy, " she said. "He could've strung you along, used you for weeks. Then given you the kissoff. It could've been lots worse."

. Then the door closed behind them, Terri was alone. And the bitterness, the sense of helplessness, the eternal futility known only to the have-nots, swamped her.

Is this the only answer, the only recompense the world had to offer? Was this justification for every indignity the little people of the world have to suffer?

It could have been worse?

Suddenly the world seemed a much less desirable place in Terri's mind. It seemed sick and unappetizing, very mean and heartless indeed.

Terri and Pam were out on the town. Pam talking of movie contracts, insisting that she and Terri bypass the more sleazy Sunset Boulevard joints, hit the more in places. Spots like the Pastiche and the Crescendo. Terri, sailing under false colors, not admitting even to herself that she subconsciously entertained thoughts of a movie career.

It was the Pastiche, a combination coffee house and cocktail lounge featuring an inobtrusive jazz trio and a beautiful Negress chanteuse named Kiki Carter, that the cold dread and sense of unreality came down hard, made Terri wonder who and what she was, what she was doing in such a place, what wild, hazy goals she was pursuing.

And who, she thought acidly, is fooling who?

It wasn't merely their surroundings that annoyed her. It was also the unarguable presence of present company, the easy recognition that the lounge's clientele was made up of eighty per cent females. All young, all beautiful, all hopeful. All available.

They sat in clusters all over the room, in twos and threes and fours. With here and there a more adventurous type, alone, nursed a coffee expresso or $2.00 martini as if her life depended upon it.

While elsewhere, badly outnumbered, at tables, at the bar, were the men. Again in twos and threes, waiting like vultures, sure that sooner or later their patience would pay off. Most of them had no movie connections. But in the time the dolls must face up to reality, they must admit they were women first, career-hungry automations second. That they needed men.

As the wee hours came on, the chicks, chilled by another night's failure, became more vulnerable, needed a shoulder to cry on, strong arms to nestle against

"Look at that blonde," Terri nudged Pam. "Why do they cheapen themselves so? I hope I ... we ... never become that obvious...."

Pam turned, appraised the indicated female. A .gaunt blonde, her hair long and straight, hanging down her shoulders, who toyed with a pink, foamy drink, nervously smoked a cigarette. She was dressed completely in an eye-capturing gold lame outfit, the skintight blouse accenting her high, extremely pointed breasts. She wore clinging slacks, absolutely nothing beneath them. Her feet were clad in matching pumps, the heels exaggeratedly high, the toes daggersharp.

And more damning, she was completely alone.

"Ugh!" Pam said. "That doll's begging for a good bed session. Talk, about fakes! That's the most she'll get out of parading herself like that."

"But why?" Terri persisted. "Can't she see what she's doing to herself?"

"Maybe the kid's desperate. Like about ninety per cent of all the dolls you see here. She's tried everything else, so...." Pam's face hardened, her hand trembled slightly as she sipped her brandy. "Maybe she's an absolute zero, doesn't know any better."

The cold despair mounted within Terri. The jazz combo and Kiki Carter's ballads went right by her. She studied the glut of women around her, wondered at the panic and desperation only partly hidden beneath those too-quick smiles, those beautifully made up, confidence-exuding faces. What inner hell did they endure, what stories of compromise and sellout lay behind each arrogant, supreme mask? It was an almost tangible thing, a suffocating, closing-in-on-her thing. It almost had an odor. Cloying, sweet, like in a funeral parlor.

The mordant stench of success at any price.

She was rocked by the thoughts. Is this what I really want? What ever got me started on this? What ever made me, for a minute, consider that I had talent or beauty enough-or venality enough?

She fought to concentrate on the doleful blues number. But her attention was distracted by movement on her right. Where she saw a flashy brunette, dressed in a sizzling, red satin gown, a thing with a fringe of tassels at the hips. A discotheque dress. A girl who'd obviously given up early and was, judging from her vapid smile, already drunk. She winked at a pair of men across the room. Their arrogant smiles, the way they rose, went to join the brunette, the knowledge of what would happen in some cramped room on one of the Strips feeder streets, an all-night round robin involving three participants, made Terri feel slightly ill."

"Do we have to stay here? I'm bored. Let's move on?"

"Okay," Pam said. "No reason to stay. Nothing doing here anyway. Haven't seen likely prospect one."

Then, as they came onto the street Terri's bitter revulsion was further reinforced when they saw the two girls, neither of them in their twenties yet, one dressed in a black, synthetic leather coat, the other in a down-to-the-knee coat sweater, idling outside a florist's shop. They were incredibly lovely in a childish way. An illusion they sought to dispel with heavy make-up, outrageous hairdos.

Instantly Terri recognized the twosome for what they were. Streetwalkers. These were girls-children-driven to this comedown, making out as best they could Starry-eyed kids who's banged their heads against an indifferent wall, had made no dent, whatsoever.

Here was where it all ended. Now, as the pair moved away, their high heels clicking on the walk, going in pursuit of a solitary man ahead, it felt like some one had plunged a hypo into Terri's heart, injected a freezing compound.

Suddenly she was trembling. "Hurry," she said to Pam. "I'm freezing."

It was at the Crescendo that Doug Jordan and Hank Snow moved in on Terri and Pam. And Pam, opportunistic to the last, immediately sensing a free ride in the ultra-expensive club, encouraged them, kicked Terri warningly when she saw her cold-shouldering the tall, handsome specimen named Doug.

Hank Snow, apparently, was a friend of some long standing. He was, Pam informed her, a liaison man with one of the independent TV outfits recently established out on Culver, a good man to know. Whereupon Hank introduced Doug as a free lance publicity man with all kinds of invaluable contacts. Again, another valuable man to know.

The men's chatter was flip, rapid fire, humorous. And whether they were the important operators they proclaimed themselves to be or not, they weren't afraid to spend money. And before long a happy-go-lucky, swinging evening was underway. A welcome turn of events to Terri, and despite her earlier misgivings and dire reflections, she found herself having a wonderful time.

They danced to the medium-slow offerings of the orchestra and Doug turned out to be an excellent dancer, Terri relaxed, basked in the sheer glow of fun which was, obviously, to be the evening's keynote. As they whirled and glided on the floor Doug spun off jokes at a frantic clip, and Terri laughed nonstop.

But the lighthearted mood the laughter stopped abruptly at 12:08. As Pam herded Terri into the ladies, out-lined an abrupt change in plans. A party was in the offing; Hank had an invite, Doug did not. She wanted to go. Could Terri take care of Doug?

"I'd just as soon not," Terri pouted. "How come Doug can't go to the party?"

"It's a snooty-snoot affair. Inside people. Hank can't risk antagonizing certain powers that be. It's a break for me, darling. I'm sorry you can't come, but that's the way things go. Doug's got his car, he'll see you home."

"With or without a mauling?"

"You're a big girl now, Terri. That's your worry."

"And if I just choose to walk out on my own?"

"Don't be stupid. Why hack Jordan? He isn't snowing you. He's got contacts. Be good to him, you never know where it'll get you."

Terri glared. "I know just where it'll get me. In a wrestling match. Bruises, torn nylons. The whole bit."

"Play it your way," Pam snapped. "I can't nursemaid you forever. Pm going with Hank. You do what you like."

Terri and Doug stayed at the Crescendo for perhaps twenty minutes after Pam and Hank left. But the glow was decidedly off things; they drank, talked listlessly. Other things were definitely on then minds.

Finally Terri said, "It's getting late. We'd better leave. I am a working gal. And eight A.M. comes awful early."

"You sure you want to go right home?" Doug purred in his most seductive manner as they waited for the attendant to bring his car around. "Maybe a little ride? I could show you some of the sights. You've only been in L.A. a short while you said? You gotta see Mulholland Drive. It's a clear night. It'll be beautiful up there about now."

Terri's heart revved up, and suddenly she was possessed of a most sadistic idea. She was tired of everyone treating her like a little kid, of being regarded as an absolute mark and nincompoop. Even by this preening, junior-grade Casanova. In his eyes she was an absolute pushover.

I'll show you how easy I am, she lashed inwardly. Looking up at him,' smiling demurely, she said, "That sounds like fun, Doug. But only for a little while."

Behind his smile she could visualize him already carving another notch in his bedpost.

They left the more crowded thoroughfares, began climbing up Coldwater Canyon Drive. And presupposing Terri's ignorance of the fact that Mulholland was one of L.A.'s most notorious passion-parking pits, he painted an extravagant picture of Mulholland's aesthetic features, dwelt upon the night-time view of Los Angeles the vantage point offered.

Not too much later he subtly, or so he thought, played his ace card, began flattering Terri, told her that she was perfect for a new TV series he had an inner line on. If she'd say the word, he'd put in a plug for her. While Terri, playing the awe struck ingenue to the hilt, leaned back into the cushions, gushed at all the right places. While to herself she thought acidly, Who do you think you're snowing, Busterr I've gone this route before. Save it for a real hick, will you? I've had my schooling; you don't give me lesson two.

"Really, Doug?" she said in feigned breathlessness, "could you really do that? I'd appreciate it so much, I'd be so grateful ... "

But as the car continued to climb, as the concentration of deluxe houses thinned out, the mountain walls seeingly closing in on them, shutting them away from the world, she had dour second thoughts. What if I can't handle this wolf? It's a long walk back. But I'll be damned if I'll surrender.

Finally Doug slowed the car, eased it into a deserted outlook point. Instantly he killed the engine, punched the car radio, brought on soft, dreamy music. "Isn't that something?" he chuckled. "Talk about views...."

And with no more ado than that the egocentric boob raised his arm, put it around Terri, pulled her close, let his hand fall over her shoulder, lightly graze her upper bosom.

Terri as part of her plan, resisted not at all. Momentarily awed by the glittering, winking ocean of lights below, the city stretching into infinity, she had thoughts for nothing else. "It is beautiful," she said sincerely, her heart briefly stunned by the magnificent panorama. "I've never seen anything so gorgeous...."

Jordan, positive this innocent was signed, sealed and delivered, almost gloated. Then, after waiting an appropriate length of time, he turned Terri gently, positioned her head offered a passionate, devouring kiss to her. A husky murmur grew in his throat.

As per plan Terri surrendered to Doug's arrogant advances, led him on. She answered his kiss fervently, let her arms wind about his neck. If a pushover is what this bozo wants-

There wasn't time for talk. Positive he was going to score, Jordan limited himself to breathless flatteries and endearments. "You're such a beautiful baby. Terri. I wanted to kiss you, to touch you from the first moment T saw you. You gorgeous little doll...."

The kissing became more and more inflaming. Jordan was no amateur, he kissed with a vengeance, displayed a virtuosity that would have knocked any less embittered girl off her pins in seconds flat. And onto her back, panting and wild.

Still Terri surrendered to him, parodied rising excitement, let her breath hiss in her throat, let her breasts churn and dig against his chest.

Then, when his kiss played a very exotic version of hide-and-seek, when his hands crept up her waist, attacked her breasts from beneath, began to caress and swirl, his skilled fingers tweaking and twirling, making them ache almost immediately-

Terri accused herself savagely, you are a pushover after all, aren't you? You're digging this. If this was any other man, a man who really cared, wasn't so blasted in love with himself, you'd let him, wouldn't you? At that instant the repugnance rose in her throat, nearly choked her. She hated herself very much.

It was then that Jordan, certain the kooky kid had come completely unglued, began sliding his hand on her bare bosom, let his fingers dive inside her brassiere. While his other hand arrogantly fled beneath her skirt, slid on her nyloned leg.

Terri shuddered, fought for strength, almost forgot her vainglorious resolve. The double teasing, as his finger caressed her breasts like dials, as his other hand gradually became more compelling, more delightful, more will-stealing. Lay back, baby, she told herself. Lay back and enjoy everything. A guy like this, a professional swain, will give you a going over you'll never forget. Her legs trembled.

But then one of her nylons popped, and the runner irritated her, reminded her of her parting words with Pam a scant hour ago. The self revulsion was immediate back. Her molten fires were instantly extinguished.

Abruptly she tore herself away from him, went to the opposite side of the seat, hurriedly arranged her clothes. "That's all, Doug," she snapped imperiously, triumphantly. Mockingly. "Party's over. It's time we went home."

Jordan used to having some chicks get frigid on him at the crucial moment, plowed right back, tried to embrace and kiss Terri anew. "Baby, baby," he sighed, "you know you don't mean that...."

The sound of Terri's savage slap seemed to hang in the close air for a long time. "No!" she spat. "That's what I mean. You think I'm that easy on the very first date? Take me home, Doug. Right now."

The man, unconditioned to refusal, suddenly caved in. "You teaser," he rasped. "You filthy, little teaser! You purposely strung me along, you wanted to get me like this, then flip the switch. Teaser...." He amended the term, made it very ugly and earthy indeed.

"Careful, Doug, darling," Terri seethed. "Don't say anything you'll be sorry for. Maybe next time, Casanova "

"There won't be a next time," he growled, starting the car.

"A quitter, huh?" Terri mocked, swamped with an insane sense of conquest. The frustration in his eyes, the whimpering defeat in his voice was almost too good to believe. In some small measure it made up for the humiliation she'd suffered at Deming's hands, for the cheap way he'd used her. "What's the matter? Can't you take a challenge? Where's the fun if every girl rolls over and plays dead the first time out?"

"You teaser," he muttered once more. "Of all the rotten stunts...."

"You are quitting. Can't stand the gaff, can you?"

"I'll get you yet, Terri. Just you wait." Then he backed the car from the turnoff, headed down.

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't," she chuckled, leaned back into the seat again, supremely confident, restored once more. "But if you're willing to try...."

"I'll get you one of these days. I can wait. I'll be calling you."

"You do that little thing, darling," she sneered.

It seemed the drive back down into the city was interminable. Neither of them spoke again the rest of the way.

"Wipe off that lipstick," Terri said as Jordan dropped her off at her place. "You look awful silly."

Sometime during the night Terri awoke, looked to Pam's bed, saw it empty. She glanced at the clock, saw it was four.

Pam, she supposed snidely, was probably still very busy. She went back to sleep, dreamed some very wild dreams indeed.