“You might say that,” she replied. “Right after Bernie had started seeing Marilyn, when we were both working at the day spa, he made a big pass at me. She never even knew that, but somehow she got the idea that I was interested in him, and she took delight in telling me all the details of their affair, as if she were making me jealous. I got really tired of it, but she wouldn’t stop, even when I asked her to. I quit the job, just to get away from her.”

“God, I hope I never make you angry with me,” Stone said.

“That would be unwise, indeed. Where’s the breakfast in bed you promised me?”

“Celia, it’s…” he checked the bedside clock “…six oh five in the morning, and my housekeeper doesn’t arrive until eight. And I can’t even make a fist, let alone cook, in my present condition.”

“What you need is a hot bath,” she said, getting out of bed. A moment later, water could be heard running in the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Celia sat in the big tub, holding a limp Stone in her arms. “There, there,” she said, stroking his hair. “This is wonderful,” he sighed.

“Of course it is. And when we’re done here, I’m going to give you the best massage you ever had in your life.”

“I think I’m going to have to take the day off,” Stone said.

She laughed. “I wish I could join you, but I have appointments today.”

“So you live in that building on Park? You’ve been very mysterious about it.”

“Not mysterious, just careful.”

“Why careful?”

“I’m afraid I have a crazy ex-boyfriend on my hands.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Not much to tell. I lived with him in a big loft downtown for a couple of years. It was fine for a while, but then he got into drugs and started becoming violent.”

“He was violent with you? He is crazy.”

“You’d think my size would have intimidated him just a little, wouldn’t you? He was only about six feet, and I think that always annoyed him. I took it at first, and then I started hitting him back.”

“Didn’t that stop him?”

“No, he started using weapons—his belt, once a whip, if you can believe it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“I picked up one of his small sculptures—he’s a sculptor—and coldcocked him with it. Then, while he was still unconscious, I packed up and got the hell out of there. A friend lent me the apartment on Park, but Devlin, the sculptor, is looking for me, and he’s furious, so mutual friends tell me.”

“What do you think will happen if he finds you?”

“I think he’ll kill me.” She paused. “If he can.”

“Then I think you ought to start taking this seriously,” Stone said.