"Wife!" Sammy shouted. "Not life! WIFE! Is he married?"
"Same thing." Agnes shrugged, which made her head look as if it was about to blast off, dryer and all. "He's been a bachelor living it up for years. But now he's finally been hooked. He's getting married on Sunday. Surprised everybody. Very sudden. Mortimer says the bride-to-be's probably a wee bit pregnant, but he could be just being spiteful. Still, it's hard to think of any other reason why Archer would get married. Two more days of freedom, and that's it for poor Archer."
"Can you give me his address?" Sammy asked. The trail was too hot now to bother with being roundabout.
Agnes looked at him curiously, but she complied. Mr. Spayed immediately got up, bid her goodbye, and headed for the door. "I hope you make Venus," he called over his shoulder as she turned the hair-dryer up a notch and it did indeed appear to be going into orbit.
"I haven't got any, either," she called back. "But I was born without one. What happened to yours?"
Sammy closed the door behind him without bothering o answer. He made a beeline for the nearest drug store arid called Llona Rutherford. When he told her what he'd uncovered, he extracted a promise from her that if this was the right man she'd pay his bill with a generous bonus besides.
As soon as she'd hung up on Sammy, Llona raced for the phone book and looked up the number of Archer Hornsby. The address beside his name in the directory checked out with the one Sammy had given her. She dialed the phone number with eager, trembling fingers.
It rang a long time, but there was no answer. She waited a half-hour and tried it again. Still no answer. Llona called the number every hour on the hour all through the day and far into the night, but it was in vain. Archer Hornsby wasn't there to respond to the ringing phone.
He wasn't there the next day, which was Saturday, either. The reason he wasn't there was that Archer had gone out of town for one last fling as a bachelor before getting married. It wasn't until early Sunday morning, the day of the wedding, that he finally returned to his apartment. When he did, he showered and shaved quickly and put on the dress suit he was wearing for the wedding. Just as he closed the door behind him, the phone started ringing again. Archer glanced at his watch, saw that he was short of time, and decided against going back inside to answer it.
On the other end of the unanswered wire, Llona was frantic. She knew from what Sammy Spayed had told her that the wedding was due to take place in about two hours. She simply had to see Archer before he took a step that would be irretrievable for both of them. When her latest attempt to reach him failed, she decided to go to the home of the bride where the wedding was to take place and crash the ceremony. She had to speak with Archer before it was too late.
As she drove there, the traffic was infuriating. "I'll never make it in time," Llona moaned to herself. And when she finally arrived, she couldn't tell whether she had or not. The place was a madhouse, a champagne-pouring confusion of milling guests packed into the too-small house like underprivileged sardines.
Llona fought her way through the crowd, trying in vain to pick out Archer. Finally she collared one of the hired waiters long enough to ask him if he knew where she might find the groom.
"Upstairs somewhere." He gestured vaguely.
Llona struggled through the people gathered on the staircase and made her way to the upper floor. She stopped an older woman who looked harassed and was wearing a corsage and repeated her question.
"I've got all I can do keeping track of the bride," the woman told her. "Maybe he's in there." She pointed to a closed door. "That's the room the men were using for changing."
Llona knocked at the door the woman had indicated. There was no answer. She knocked again and then pushed it open. The room was empty. A man's suit, which looked new and suitable for traveling, was laid out neatly on the bed. Llona tried hard to recall Archer and judge if the suit was his size. Just as she'd made up her mind that it was very possible, she heard the sounds of two men's voices just outside the door by which she'd entered. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized one of the voices as Archer's. Hearing it again, she could have no doubt about it!
But Llona wanted to see him alone. It wouldn't be any good if some other man was present. As the doorknob turned, she decided to hide in the closet in the hope that the other man would leave and she could confront Archer privately. Llona closed the closet door behind her just as the two men entered the room. She knelt down and peered through the keyhole, eager for even the slightest glimpse of the face of the man she'd dreamed about and yearned to see again for such a long time.
The keyhole revealed one of the men sitting on the edge of the bed. His face was visible, but he wasn't Archer. The other man had his back to the closet. He was taking off the dress suit he was wearing. He threw the jacket carelessly on the bed, pulled off the pants, and unbuttoned his shirt. It was only after he'd thrown the shirt beside the jacket on the bed that he turned around and Llona saw his face. Standing there in jockey shorts, shoes and socks, was the Archer of her fondest memories. A feeling of faintness swept over Llona, seeing him standing there like that, looking so virile, so manly, so desirable.
Now the other man made some remark to Archer and got to his feet. They shook hands, and the other man left. When the door closed behind him, Archer sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes and socks. Watching him, Llona wanted to burst out of the closet and throw herself into his arms. But her courage failed her. Suppose he rejected her? She'd die! She'd simply die!
Barefoot now, Archer stood up. He pulled off his jockey shorts and stood facing the closet absent-mindedly. At the sight of his naked body, Llona grabbed onto the doorknob for support. It opened, and she came tumbling out.
"You!" Archer's jaw dropped, and he stared at her in amazement.
"Archer!" she panted.
"You!" he repeated himself, memory making him pant in return.
He held out his hand to help her up. She clutched it to her breast, unable to speak. He knelt beside her. She fell back into his arms. His desire grew to a visual fact. Her desire made her reach for it with hungry fingers. He unbuttoned her blouse. She pushed off her skirt. He tore off her bra and buried his face between her lush breasts. She wriggled free of her panties. He kissed her lips. She kissed back avidly. His hand traveled down the length of her body. Her hand guided it to the damp V of her passion. He rose up and clambered over her. She parted her thighs and received him eagerly. The scene dissolved for both of them as they were caught up once again in a journey of ecstasy which finally left them both lying tired and sated and happy on Cloud Nine.
Their descent from the cloud, however, was somewhat awkward. "Long time no see," Archer said lamely. "How've you been?"
"I've missed you," Llona sighed.
"And your husband?" he asked delicately. "How is he?"
"Dead," Llona told him.
"Too bad. But give him a chance. Maybe he'll liven up."
"You don't understand. He's really dead. He dropped dead on our wedding night."
"What a way to go," Archer said admiringly. "So he's really dead, hey?" he added. "Well, I'm not one to take pleasure in someone else's misfortune, but-"
"Oh, Archer! Then you do feel the way I do! You do want me as much as I want you! I was so afraid it might be one-sided."
"Not on your life. I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since that day. The only reason I made myself keep away from you was that you were married. If I'd only known-"
"But it's not too late, Archer. We've found each other now. I'm free. You can marry me-if you want to, that is."
"I do want to," he said miserably, "but I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I just got married. Only fifteen minutes ago. That's when the ceremony ended. I just got married."