He did not reply, but reached in his suit pocket and put on his sunglasses.

I opened my purse and put on my dark glasses. It wasn’t my job to entertain him. And then I thought, Well, Roxanne, it’s not his job to entertain you either. In a silence that felt ominous we crested a hill, and the city fanned out before us. He gave the car one last burst of speed before we came down into the broad city streets, where he slowed, mindful of the speed limits and traffic lights, and, I feel pretty certain, keeping an eye out for cop cars.

As he pulled the Porsche in front of Pierino’s flagstone circular driveway, he remarked, “I hope you don’t expect me to get out and open the door for you.”

I had no opportunity for a retort, because just then I saw none other than Gordon Conrad standing under the awning by the valet’s podium, handing off the keys to his Cadillac. Gordon gave me a weird look just as the valet opened the door to the Porsche. I got out, and the Porsche roared away before I had the chance to thank Terrence Dexter.

Gordon asked with no other greeting, “Who is the jungle bunny? Your new chauffeur? And what’s that on your head? You look like a farm girl just back from a hoedown.”

I snatched the kerchief from my head. “Really, Gordon, do you have to be vulgar?”

“No, but I like to. What are you doing here?”

“I’m meeting Elliott and Charlie at one.”

“You’re early.”

“I had car trouble, and he—that man—gave me a ride in from Reg’s.”

“I always told you to drive a Cadillac. Well, you might as well have a drink with us till Elliott gets here.”

“Who is us?”

“Leon, Denise, Elsie, and me.”

This prospect shook me up even more than driving with a speed demon and having a deer leap right over my head. My throat tightened, but I stuffed Reg’s silly kerchief into my purse along with my sunglasses and followed him in.

They were naturally sitting at the best table in Pierino’s, Denise looking like a camellia in a bouffant skirt that brushed the floor, Elsie like a great flowered pillowcase. Leon rose and embraced me, and, though no one but me would have guessed, his hug was perfunctory.

“Roxanne just got out of a fancy car driven by a boogie,” said Gordon after the waiter brought the drinks.