arrow light up above the polished brass doors of the elevator at the end of the hall, she seized her chance to escape another lecture.
“Some other time, Doctor,” she said breezily, and, sprinting forward, managed to squeeze into the crowded car just before the doors slid shut in his face.
That afternoon, the temperature shot up into the low nineties. Not even the breeze off the river was enough to stir the air, and by the time Olivia got home, shortly after five, her smart linen suit was clinging to her like warm, limp lettuce.
Dropping her briefcase on the hall table, she propped open both front and back doors, flung wide all the windows, and hauled herself upstairs, intent on stripping down to the barest essentials and submersing herself in her swimming pool with all due speed. Add a little background music, a glass of cold white wine, and nothing but the fragrance of the heliotrope growing in pots around her patio to disturb the peace, and perhaps she’d begin to unwind from a day which had never quite recovered from the encounter with Grant.
Stupid, she knew, to let him get under her skin like that, but the way he’d behaved at the meeting had floored her. Though always something of a maverick, the young intern she’d once known and fallen in love with had been the least pretentious man she’d ever met, and had borne no resemblance at all to this morning’s arrogant nitpicker.
But the memory of his remarks, the scornful tone of his voice, his patronizing smile and confident assumption that she’d jump on command if he ordered her to, continued to mock her, even after she’d swum several lengths of the pool and collapsed on a chaise in the shade of a large sun umbrella.
You’re scarcely qualified to determine priorities…you’re clearly unable to view the matter with any kind of objectivity…you need to consult an expert….
“The nerve of him, condescending to me like that, as if I were still the wet-behind-the-ears girl he married!” she muttered indignantly, taking a swig of her wine.
A second later, the glass all but slipped from her fingers as a familiar voice inquired, “Do you often get plastered and start talking to yourself, sweet face? Because if you do, you should be aware that it’s a very dangerous habit to adopt which can and usually does lead to serious and long-lasting consequences.”
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