Free Reckless Moon by Doreen Owens Malek Page B

now. She had work to do.
    * * *
    During the next three weeks Beth met with Bram frequently to assist him with his legal problems.
    He asked her to dinner three times. She refused.
    He asked her to go for a drink with him five times. She refused.
    He asked her to a hockey game, an anniversary party, and the grand opening of a new theater. She refused.
    Beth was not enjoying herself. The constant strain of saying no when she really wanted to say yes was fraying her nerves. But she stuck to her guns and kept their contact on a purely professional level.
    At first Bram treated her stand with tolerant indulgence. But as time passed and he saw that she had no intention of giving in, his attitude became increasingly hostile. Things deteriorated to the point where they were conducting their business in an atmosphere fraught with tension, speaking to each other with frigid politeness and walking on eggshells lest either of them disturb the delicate balance. Bram’s withdrawn silences, his measured glances cut Beth to the quick, and the undertone of mild sarcasm she well remembered from earlier conversations had resurfaced with a vengeance. She was at her wits’ end: She didn’t know what to do. If she began to see him socially she was headed for trouble, but there was a limit to how much more of his icy manner she could endure.
    In late September the Chamber of Commerce was holding a fundraiser for the United Way, and Jason Raines invited Beth to attend with him. At first she hesitated; such affairs always seemed phony to her, an excuse for local politicians and business people to get together and toot their own horns. But Jason finally convinced her to go along. She had to admit that she could use the exposure, and realized that she’d better get used to such socializing if she expected to build up a practice.
    The night before the party she was trying on various dresses, unable to decide what to wear, while Marion sat on the edge of her bed and offered a running commentary on each outfit. Marion’s husband was away for the weekend, and she had driven up from New York that afternoon to visit her sister.
    “That’s too short,” Marion announced as Beth pirouetted in front of the mirror. “It’s always been too short. I don’t know why you bought it in the first place.”
    “I bought it because it was on sale,” Beth replied, examining the sweep of the dress against her ankles.
    “That isn’t going to make it any longer,” Marion replied.
    Beth shot her a look and reached for the zipper at the back of her neck. “All right,” she said. “That narrows it down to a choice between the aqua chiffon and the red silk.”
    “Don’t you have anything else?”
    “No, Marion, I don’t. My wardrobe of formal wear is severely limited. We didn’t go in much for gowns at the law firm in Boston where I worked.”
    “Then buy something.”
    Beth slipped out of the dress she was wearing and put it back on the hanger. It was easy for Marion to say; her husband’s family minted money in their cellar out on Long Island. If Beth splurged on an expensive dress she would be skimping on ribbons for her typewriter.
    “It’ll have to be the chiffon,” she said, taking it out of her closet.
    “What about the red one?” Marion asked, crossing her legs.
    “It makes me look like a chorus girl. That’s not exactly the impression I’m trying to create.” Beth donned the aqua dress and let Marion fasten it She stepped back to the mirror and both women were silent as they examined the effect.
    “I think it’s out of style,” Marion finally said.
    Beth slumped in disappointment “What am I going to do? I already told Jason I would go with him.”
    “Does Mindy have anything?” Marion asked.
    Beth stared at her sister. “You know Mindy’s taste. Everything she owns looks great on her and makes me look like an embroidered lampshade.”
    Marion stood up suddenly. “Wait a minute. I left some of my things in the closet in my room