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Decisions, decisions, decisions. She couldn’t think now, not with the bed so soft and her head so light and fuzzy inside. Tomorrow there would be time, time to spare. Tomorrow there would be time for whatever thinking had to be done.

But the bed was so comfortable, so deliciously comfortable. She had been in this bed before but now it was different. Now all she wanted to do was to go to sleep for a long, long time.

Her eyes closed and stayed shut. Her mind swam.

And she slept.

Chapter Seventeen

When Carla stood at the curb in front of the Hotel Tiffany waiting for the doorman to hail her a taxi, the sun was shining down and the air was warm. The weather suited her mood. She felt good and glad to be alive. Her mind was made up, her body rested from a good sound sleep, her skin clean and fresh from the shower.

A taxi pulled up to the curb and Carla slipped a coin into the waiting palm of the doorman. Then she hopped into the cab and gave the driver her address. She rolled down the window and let the wind toss her hair a little. It felt good.

Decisions were a nuisance. She never liked them and supposed she never would. Although she appeared on the outside to be a strong woman, she knew that this was not really the case. A strong woman wouldn’t have the problems she had, and if she did she would manage to solve them quickly and expediently.

She took a deep breath of the fresh air and held it in her lungs. Decisions, decisions, decisions. They were so damned hard to make, and she went to sleep the night before with no notion in her head as to what course of action was best for her.

But when she awakened there was no decision to be made. She knew instantly what she would do.

When she told Charles he hadn’t said anything. He kept his face impassive and simply showed her to the door. But she sensed that he agreed that her choice was the wise one, the only one that would permit her to be happy.

For a second her mind clouded over with doubt. Was it definitely the proper choice? It had to be, she told herself. It simply had to be.

She leaned back, relaxed and lit a cigarette. By the time the cigarette was a stub to be thrown out the window, the cab had reached its destination. She alighted from it, paid and tipped the driver, and walked slowly to the front door of her home.

Her hand reached instinctively for the doorbell. No, she decided, leaving the bell unrung. No, she didn’t need to disturb Lizzie. She fumbled in her purse for her key and fitted it in the lock. The key turned and the door opened and she stepped inside.

It was good to be home. She opened her mouth to call Lizzie but again decided to leave the girl to her work. She hesitated in the vestibule, undecided as to what to do first. There seemed to be a million things to do and she didn’t know where to start.

Slowly she walked from the vestibule to the living-room. Her purse hung loosely at her side. She entered the living-room and started across it when her eyes suddenly darted to the large arm-chair.

Danny Rand was seated there, his eyes burning angrily into hers.

Carla opened her mouth but no words came out. She was totally stunned. What was Danny doing here? His presence in itself was alarming, and the look of hate in his eyes was overpowering.

She took an automatic step toward him. Then he stood up and his countenance was so disturbing that she withdrew a step.

“You bitch!”

For one hysterical second she was positive that he was going to kill her. “What are you doing here?” she stammered.

“What do you want?”

He only stared at her.

“How did you get in?”

“Through the front door,” he said. “The same way you got in. After you left I remembered that you didn’t have a car, so I went downstairs to take you home. By the time I hit the street you were gone.”

“I... I took a taxi.”

“That’s what I figured. Anyway, I drove over here to see you. I took a short cut and waited for the cab to get here, and after half an hour I went to the drugstore and called here.”

“I wasn’t home.”

“No kidding. So I went back where I was and waited for you. After waiting another hour I knew you weren’t coming, and then I figured out that you were already home and wouldn’t talk to me. It figured, and it was possible that the cabby beat me to your place.

“So I waited. I waited all night and I slept in the car because I didn’t feel like going back to my room, and in the morning your husband left for the office and I rang your bell. The maid let me in, and that’s when I found out.”

“You didn’t come home all night!”

Her hand fluttered to her throat. She couldn’t speak, realizing what he thought she had done. There was a lump in her throat and when she tried to swallow the lump stayed where it was.

“All right,” he repeated. “Where in hell were you?”

“Danny,” she began haltingly. “Danny, I can explain. If you’ll just let me...”

“What’s there to explain? Don’t you figure I can guess where you were?”

She shook her head desperately.

“I know where you went, damn you. You were with a man.”

“No,” she said. “It’s not what you think. If you would just let me—”

“Shut up! Can you deny that you spent the night with a man? Can you?”

“Please,” she said weakly. “Please.”

“Shut the hell up with your pleases.” His right hand had tightened into a fist and she could see the rigid tendons in his forearm. He took a step toward her and his face was inches away from hers. She wanted to run but her feet wouldn’t move from the spot.

“Well? Just answer yes or no. Were you with a man or weren’t you?”

“I—”

“Dammit, yes or no!”

She wanted to scream. If he would only let her start at the beginning she could make him understand, make him see that she stayed at the Tiffany because she couldn’t come home. But she knew that he wouldn’t understand. Danny would leap at once to the conclusion that was obvious, inevitable, and totally inaccurate.

“Yes.”

The word had tumbled from her lips almost of its own volition, and once it was said there was no way for her to recall it. She saw the way his eyes went blank and then blazed anew with increased venom, and she wished she could explain but there was no opportunity for her to do so.

“Of course,” he said. “Of course you were. Well, how was it?”

“Danny—”

“How was it?” His voice had risen to a scream.

“Danny, you don’t understand—”

“I sure as hell understand! How was it? Was he better than I was? Did you moan when he did it? Did you wriggle around under him like you used to with me? How was it?”

She shook her head soundlessly.

“The bitch crawls out of one bed and into another. Maybe this time you picked a smart guy — one who won’t make the same mistake I did. Maybe you found a guy who wouldn’t even dream of falling in love with you — much less marrying you. You won’t have to string him along like a goddamned puppet. Is that how it was?”

“No,” she stammered. “No, no, no.”

“No, no, no,” he mocked. “I bet that’s the first time you ever said no to a man since you lost your cherry. But I want to hear more about how you spent the night. Was it good? How many times?”

“Stop it,” she said. “Please.”

“How many times?” he repeated. “You better tell me all about it. Give me a good description; maybe it’ll help me improve my technique for the next round-heeled Mrs. Richbitch I meet, the next little tramp on wheels who pulls me down into the grease for a fast piece.”

She didn’t say anything, and suddenly she saw that he couldn’t hold his temper any longer. His breath was coming shorter and his fist was swinging at his side. He stepped closer and she could feel his hot breath in her face but still couldn’t do anything. She wanted to run but there was no place to go.