Part 207 (1/2)

six weeks away, and she was nervous as a cat. And angry, she admitted.

Angry because her husband showed no interest in her work. Angry because

he'd announced two hours before that he'd invited a few friends over.

A hundred and fifty people crowded the rooms. The music blasted. Over

the past month there had been more and more of these little

gettogethers. Her liquor bill had soared to five hundred dollars a

week. She didn't resent the money. No, it wasn't the money. It wasn't

even the time, not when it involved friends. But friends had swelled to

hangers-on, groupies. Last week, the apartment had been a wreck after

everyone had cleared out. The sofa had been stained with

brandy. Someone had put out a cigarette on her Oriental rug. But worse

than that, worse than the broken Baccarat vase or the missing Limoges

candy dish, were the drugs.

She'd found a group, people she'd never met, cheerfully snorting c.o.ke in

the guest room she hoped would soon be a nursery. Drew had promised it

would never happen again. ”You're just p.i.s.sed because Marianne didn't

come.”

Hadn't been invited, Emma corrected silently. ”It's not that at all.”

”Since she got back in town you've been spending more time with her over

at that loft than here, with me.”

”Drew, I haven't even seen her for nearly two weeks. Between my work

and our social life I haven't had time.”

”You've always got time to b.i.t.c.h, though.”

She jerked back. Furious, she shoved his hand aside before he could

grab her again. ”I'm going up to bed.”

She pushed her way through the crowd, ignoring the calls and laughter.