I wouldn’t have liked to spend the nickel, but forced to go down all those stairs on foot, I would have been a danger to myself and others. There was no sign of Dex at the office. It wasn’t a surprise but it was a question. Dex was always late. It made me wonder what he did in the morning when he didn’t come in. Did he wander in the park? Do some secret charity work? Or was it possible that every morning he found the idea of another sunny day too difficult to face? I was having a hard time facing the day myself. I told myself that the single Kir Royale I’d consumed had not gotten me drunk and was not now causing a hangover. Still, I’d felt better, though it likely had more to do with the total four hours of sleep I’d managed to get than any champagne concoction I’d sipped at. When Dex breezed into the office at around eleven, he looked a lot better than I felt. His shirt was crisp and clean, he had on a new collar, he was shaved within an inch of his life, and his shoes were shined.
What do You think about Death Was The Other Woman?
