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Sunday, September 21

I woke up with a headache and checked the alarm clock. It was Sunday at 2:24 in the morning. Sandie and I had been partying all night, and the mixture of alcohol and cigarette smoke was never a good combination for me.

Sandie lay beside me, and, as usual, was totally covered by the silk blanket. I leaned over and cautiously removed the blanket to have another look at her huge, heaving breasts, and I shook my head. Sandie was a very attractive woman, and I was sure her breasts, in their original size and shape, were as perfect as the rest of her body. Why a beautiful woman like her would mutilate her body and have a pound of plastic added to either side is still beyond me. Her argument was the pursuit of an acting career, and I didn’t question her. After all, she still believed I was the son of the executive director of MGM Studios. I had made the title up on the fly, and I had to play the game.

I pulled the blanket back over her and cautiously stepped off the bed to go to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and shook my head. I had looked better than the man who looked at me from the other side of the mirror. I turned to open the bathroom closet and retrieved a bottle of Advil.

For a moment I felt tempted to swallow the entire content but decided against it. I took two pills, walked over to the kitchen section of my Manhattan studio where I threw in the pills and gulped down a glass of water. I shook my head in disgust, and then I just stood there to decide how to go from here.

The choice was between going back to bed or doing something else. That something else, I decided, was to sit on the couch with a large glass of Seltzer and starting up my laptop. I had to be quiet. From where I was sitting I could see the large bed at the other end of the studio, and I was not in the mood to talk to her right that moment.

As a matter of fact, I was already thinking of a way to get rid of her. I still had some confectionary sugar, a razor blade, and a small plastic pipe, which, when arranged in the proper way, would hopefully point to a drug addiction. Honestly, I don’t have any experience with sniffing cocaine, but I have had my fair share of Law & Order on TV.

The set-up had worked with Erin, knowing that her first boyfriend had overdosed a few years ago. It would be a crapshoot with Sandie, though. Chances were, she would never notice the set-up, and, even if she did, she might not know what it was. Another possibility was that she would be thrilled and jump to get herself a sniff. I determined there were too many unknowns, and I had to come up with a more sinister scenario.

I looked at the computer screen for a few moments, unsure what to do with it, then I decided to have a last look at the notes I had made during these past three months. Despite the prevailing headache I couldn’t help but grin when I read the first entries. My status as a successful writer was bleak when I arrived here, but on Monday morning I would sign a contract with Sandie’s boss, Jonathan O’Keeffe, one of the heavyweights in the book publishing industry.

That same day I would return to my home and my pregnant wife in Montgomery Village in Maryland. Roughly two weeks later, if everything went according to the doctor’s prediction, we would have our first child, and I was looking forward to it.

Sandie grunted under the silk blanket and turned around, interrupting my frantic typing on the computer, adding to my notes. Then I shook my head. There was no way the hardly noticeable clicking would wake her. She was not a morning person, either. She would sleep until the afternoon if I didn’t wake her, but at the same time I toyed with the thought of simply leaving the studio later this morning. Maybe I should spend some leisure time in Central Park without her, however, not without leaving a romantic note saying something like I didn’t dare to wake the sleeping beauty. She always fell for this kind of stuff. The thought of kicking her out today, or even at this very moment, was tempting, but I needed to wait until I had signed that contract.

I turned my attention back to the computer. It is amazing how the memories and emotions of past events are refreshed when you keep a written record. Some emotions come back as they were, others, in view of the time passed, are different. I also realized how innocent I was then. That had changed profoundly. My experiences with the people in the publishing industry had turned me into a ruthless bastard, and I was good at it. I really had learned to play the game.

Another look at the screen, checking the date of the entry, and I realized that it was three months earlier to the day when we met with Steve, a good friend of ours, to discuss our idea.

Next: Chapter 2