Part 220 (2/2)

had bought with his wife's money.

”He was a friend,” she repeated, struggling to keep her voice from

trembling. ”I have to go to the funeral.”

”You don't have to go anywhere.” He glanced up, smiled at her. ”You

belong right here with me, not at some f.a.g's death march.”

She hated him then. It amazed her that she could feel it. It had been

so long since she'd felt anything. Strange, that a tragedy would make

her finally accept what a waste her marriage was. She would divorce

him. She opened her mouth, then saw his long, slim fingers run over the

keys. Slim they were, but strong as steel. She'd begged for a divorce

once before, and he'd nearly choked her.

It would do no good to make him angry. But she did have a weapon.

”Drew, it's public knowledge that he was my friend. He was a friend of

Johnno's and Dad's and everyone. If I don't go, the press is going to

start by saying that I ignored him because he died ofAIDS. It won't

look good for you, especially now that you're doing that benefit with

Dad.”

He pounded on the chords. If the b.i.t.c.h didn't stop nagging, he was

going to have to shut her up. ”I don't give a flying f.u.c.k what the

press says. I'm not going to a funeral for a freak.”

She held on to her temper. It was vital. She kept her voice soft and

soothing. ”I understand how you feel, Drew. A man like you, so

virile.” She almost choked on the word. ”But the benefit is going to be

televised here, and in Europe. It's the biggest thing since Live Aid.

<script>