I felt a little better, but then I started thinking maybe he hadn’t answered because somebody was there with him, some other woman, maybe even Pancho or Lefty. Now I was being paranoid and insecure. Was I going to tell him about Matt? Or Ken Spinner, for that matter? Oh sure. Way to drive him crazy with jealousy.

I wasn’t going to tell him about Boone, because Boone confused me, and I wouldn’t know what to say.

Meanwhile, there was bagel duty. I went to the back door of the dining hall to load up my cart with the coffee urns and pastries. One of the cooks beckoned me inside the kitchen, pointing: El señor no se siente bien.

Oscar was sitting at a table in a corner. His head was resting on his folded arms. A mug of coffee and a plate of toast and eggs were in front of him.

“Oscar?” He groaned without looking up. “Are you all right? What happened to you?”

“Bad juju.” At least that’s what I thought he said.

“Look at me.” He shook his head. “Do you want me to get Tony?”

That got a response. He raised his head and groaned again. His face was puffy and the lines around his eyes and mouth pointed down, down, down. “God, no. I have to get ready for my workshop. Or wait. I don’t think they’re back yet.”

“Back from where? Where did you guys go yesterday?”

“Tahoe.”

“You’re kidding.” He wasn’t. “Why?”

“Wanted to go . . .” he was mumbling now. “. . . casino.”

“You took your workshop to a casino.”

“I didn’t take anybody,” he protested. “They wanted to go, a couple of them had cars. It was fun. We played all the . . .” He reached for the coffee mug and drank. “. . . games.”

I didn’t bother asking if he’d won big. “So where are they? Oscar? Where’s your workshop?”

“Ah, it got late, I think they decided to stay at the hotel. I got a ride back. From some . . . lady. She let me off down at the gate. I got lost. I think I saw a bear.”

“Did it see you? You look like you slept in a ditch.”

“There might have been a ditch involved.”

“You better hope those people turn up all right. You missed Sacha’s reading. Viridian’s fine. Thanks for asking.”

Oscar muttered something about me being a hardheaded woman, and how hardheaded women always broke your heart, and in general feeling sorry for himself. Sacha was right, he seemed more distracted than usual, and more genuinely miserable. Usually you could kid him out of it, but this morning, even allowing for the hangover, he seemed lost, in more ways than one. “You know, you might consider taking better care of yourself.”