Another jolt of pain ran up his leg and Barry began to cry. He didn’t mind that he cried every day now. He liked being in touch with his emotions. But what he wasn’t used to was being so scared. He pulled his leg toward him and continued weeping. People are so goddamned petty, he thought to himself. No one understands the big picture. That’s why there’s so little kindness in the world. Barry decided he would give a million dollars to the ballet in the name of that kid. At least he still had a commitment to the future and humanity. At least he still had a heart.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

·CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE·

Samantha

Samantha took a taxi to her room at the Little Nell. Adrienne had told her once about a business trip when she ate and drank her way through the entire minibar. As she walked into the hotel, it seemed clear to Samantha that she was in no state to make any decisions or plans except to pillage the minibar.

“Mrs. Acton, should we use the credit card we have on file for your room charges?”

Samantha thought, I don’t want that bastard paying for me.

“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “Use the card you have on file.”

“Do you have any additional luggage, or just the bag that was sent here?”

“Just the one that was sent here,” she mumbled, impressed at the speed and finality of Barry’s commandos.

As Samantha walked to the elevator, she noticed in the lobby several pretty twenty-something-year-old girls in exotic fur ponchos holding the arms of men who looked their fathers’ age. There was also a family of five blonde children sitting by the fireplace with a forty-year-old athletic-looking mother in a headband and cashmere après-ski sweatsuit. Finally, she saw in the corner a sixty-year-old woman with fabulous skin laughing hysterically with two young, well-tanned buff men.

Samantha had developed the habit of summing up other women’s lives and debating if she regretted that any of them weren’t her own. She clearly wouldn’t be twenty or even thirty again, and even when she was she hadn’t auctioned herself off to the highest bidder. She had too much integrity and personal wealth for that. She would never be the mother of five, herding the brood off on a family holiday, and she had no intention of being a stylish older woman surrounded by amusing young escorts.

When Samantha opened the door to the hotel room she turned on the light and headed straight to the pint-sized refrigerator. She began pouring miniature vodkas one after another and gathered cans of Pringles, pretzels, cashews, honey-roasted peanuts, M&M’s, gummy bears, and Toblerone bars to take into bed. She got under the covers, shut off the light, and focused on consuming her entire stash.