Free Deep Down True by Juliette Fay Page B

Because I wouldn’t want people to think I was purposely . . . or that, you know, we weren’t focusing on the game . . .”
    Alder shrugged. “Nobody thought anything. Besides, who cares?”
    I do! thought Dana. But she knew that was the wrong answer. Why did it matter what anyone else thought? “Should I have said no? He seems like a very nice man.”
    Alder shrugged again, picked up a washcloth, folded it, and set it on the stack in the linen closet. “He’s a guy,” she said, and went back into the TV room and turned out the light.

CHAPTER 9
    A COUPLE OF NIGHTS LATER, DANA WAS SETTLING into bed when the phone rang. The caller ID read STELLGARTEN, K. I hope he knows he can’t talk to the kids at this hour, she thought, and wondered if he might be calling to ask about Coach Ro and that little scene at the game last Sunday.
    “Hi,” he said. It was neutral enough, but Dana now knew for sure that something was bothering him. The tone was too low, as if that one note rang a whole minor chord.
    “What’s up?” She tried not to smile in case he could tell and think she was gloating.
    He took a breath, seemed about to say something but exhaled instead. “Well, I was hoping things would turn around,” he began.
    Things, she thought. Maybe he and Tina were having trouble. Satisfaction glinted through her like something gold-plated, followed by a twinge of guilt. Don’t build your happiness on the unhappiness of others, she told herself. She’d seen that on the tag of a tea bag once.
    “I didn’t know if you’d heard, or read it in the paper,” he said.
    “The paper?” Had there been some sort of altercation between them? Had the police been called? In all the years of their marriage, he’d never even yelled very loudly.
    “Yes, Dick Portman—you remember him. The CFO. The grand jury indicted him.” Dana had seen him at company parties. His shirt cuffs were frayed, and he didn’t seem to be spending much on dry cleaning. He was the chief financial officer. She just thought he was frugal.
    “Indicted?” she asked. This was not about Tina, then. This was legitimately bad.
    “It was in the paper for the whole damned business world to see. God, what an idiot. For a guy who spent his life tracking money, he certainly had no idea of how to cover his own t racks.”
    “Oh, my gosh,” she murmured.
    “Yes, well, the company can get back on its feet—the feds say he didn’t spend much of it, poor bastard. Appears he was just squirreling it away.”
    “That’s a relief,” she said. But it wasn’t really. Clearly there was more to it.
    “Oh, right,” he said with an edge of sarcasm, “it’s all fine and dandy. Except that I’m in sales , Dana. How the hell can I sell the product when it looks like the inmates are running the asylum? Who’ll buy from us now? I wouldn’t, I’ll tell you that.”
    “It’s hurting your commissions,” she realized.
    “Of course it is!” He wasn’t angry at her, she knew, but he needed to rail at someone. That had always been her job, to let him get things off his chest. Where’s Tina? Dana wondered. Why wasn’t Tina the one on the business end of his anger?
    “Anyway,” he muttered, reining himself back in. “It’ll get better. We’ll put this behind us, put some safeguards in place, and we’ll be back on the A-list.”
    “Good,” she said. “It’s important to take the long view.”
    “True.” He paused. “But listen, it’s going to be a little tight for a while. Right now my income is nearly half what it was back when the divorce mediator came up with the support amount. I won’t be able to kick in what I normally do.”
    Dana sat straight up. Kick in? He wasn’t just kicking in. He was the sole source of support for the household. “But how can I possibly—”
    “I know,” he cut her off. “I feel terrible. But six months, a year from now, it’ll be back to normal. With all the guys leaving for other companies, there’ll be a lot of