“I thought I did. We just wound up wanting to wring each other’s neck.” She didn’t mention his accusations.
“Look. If you want someone, you have to forget your standards and act like a flight attendant. He’ll come around. Dress up. Wear heels. Dip.”
Claire burst out laughing.
“I mean it.” She stood. “You wanna get laid, you have to put aside your values for a couple of minutes.”
“But I don’t—”
“Bullshit. You do. We all do. As a matter of fact, if you’re not interested in the Polack, I’ll take him. That is if you really don’t mind.”
“Carmela, there’s something strange about Stefan. I don’t trust him. He could be the killer, for all we know.”
“Who’s talking about trusting him? I’d like to take him for all I can get.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“Neither am I. I like the type who are up to no good. Mischief. You just don’t want me living in that mansion up on Park Lane South.”
“Carmela, believe me, I know exactly how you feel. I had quite a few of the same thoughts once or twice myself tonight. But that’s not what we’re talking about here. We’re talking about finding a way to live with ourselves. I mean, look at us. Here we are at three in the morning; I’m still drunk and you’re blitzed from God knows what—”
“So I snorted a little …”
“Yeah. You only ever snort a little. That’s why you weigh about forty pounds.”
“Oh, shut up. Just shut up, because I know what kind of sermon’s coming. And you just wish you had my slender thighs.”
“Thighs, yes, scrawny neck, no.”
“You had to get that out, didn’t you? Make you feel better?”
Claire listened to her heart pounding in her ears. Why on earth did she let Carmela get to her like this? Nobody had ever irked her this way overseas. Was this what she’d run away from? The people who pushed all her buttons? Turned her into a child? She sank back, exhausted, onto her pillow. Carmela moved over to the doorway and looked sadly at Claire. Cruelty had a way of bringing out the best in her. “Anyway,” she said. “I hope it works out with your dick-a-della. I really do.”
“Thanks.”
Carmela hesitated one more time. “Oh,” she said, “by the way. If you could pick up my car tomorrow I’d really appreciate it. Um … as you have nothing else to do. With your camera stolen and all, you won’t be doing much shooting, right?”
Claire smiled wryly. “Sure. I’ve got nothing else to do. And tigers never change their stripes.”
“What’s that face for?”
“I just wish you would once walk up those rickety stairs to see me without wanting something. Just to come up once for no reason at all but to, I don’t know, talk or something. The way you make it out to look before you get to what you really want. Or at least just say what it is you want first. You don’t have to make an ass of me.”