14 Chapter 14

I gathered up my purse and we walked out of the bedroom. “Take care, Portia.”

“Istenhozzád, Folana. Farewell.”

I gathered up my jacket and the parcel from The Best of Times, and left her there in Bart Freeman’s flat, while smoke curled in the kitchen from the chop that burned, and he watched in affronted impotence.

Her laughter followed me out the door.

Late the next morning I flew back to the States. 3

A tall, dark-haired man carrying a briefcase approached me in the first class passengers’ lounge. “Miss Sebring? I’m Bradford.”

“How do you do?” I held out my hand. “Thank you for offering to accompany me home.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His grip was firm but not painful. “I have some work I’ll need to catch up on, so I hope you won’t mind. I picked up some magazines for you to read on the flight.” Vogue, Mademoiselle, and Ladies Home Journal, as well as True Confessionsand Modern Screen

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