Free Once Is Not Enough by Jacqueline Susann Page B

for the switch.
    “Mike, this is absolutely ridiculous for me to have to sneak in here.” The woman’s voice was petulant. “After all, she’s not a child.”
    “Dee”—his voice was firm but cajoling. “You’ve got to understand. For three years she looked forward to the way she wanted to spend her first night back.”
    The woman sighed. “But how do you think I felt when you called and told me to get out of the apartment after I had gone to such pains, getting the best caviar, the right champagne. It was going to be my ‘getting to know January night.’ Instead I’m dismissed like some chorus girl. Thank God I was able to catch David. We sat in that bar at the Sherry for hours. I’m sure I dragged him out of the arms of some beautiful young thing—”
    “Come here,” Mike said softly.
    There was silence, and January knew he was kissing the woman. She didn’t know what to do. It was wrong to stand in the darkness and listen. If only she had a robe.
    Her father spoke softly. “January and I are having breakfast tomorrow. I want to have a long talk with her before you two meet. But believe me, I was right . . . handling it the way I did tonight.”
    “But Mike—”
    “No buts. Come on, we’ve wasted too much time already.”
    The woman laughed. “Oh, Mike, you’ve ruined my hair. Oh, would you be a love and pick up my purse . . . I left it on the table near the hall.”
    January stood very still. They were coming into the bedroom! The door opened and there was a sudden burst of light as the woman flicked on the wall switch. For a split second they both stared at one another. For some reason January felt she looked strangely familiar. She was tall and slim with frosted hair and incredibly beautiful skin. The woman recovered first and called out, “Mike . . . come on in. We seem to have company.”
    January didn’t move. She didn’t like the funny smile of composure on the woman’s face, as if she had the situation well in hand and had her next move planned.
    Mike’s first reaction was surprise. Then an expression cameto his eyes that she had never seen before. Annoyance. And when he spoke his voice was cold. “January, what the hell are you doing snooping around in here?”
    “I . . . I was having a Coke—” She pointed toward the living room where she had left her drink.
    “But what are you doing in here . . . in the dark . . . without the drink?” the woman asked.
    January looked toward her father, waiting for him to end this horrible scene. But he stood beside the woman, waiting for the answer.
    Her throat was dry. “I heard the door . . . and voices . . .” She forced the words out. “I had no robe, so I dashed in here.”
    For the first time they both stared at the filmy nightgown. Her father walked into the bathroom quickly and returned with one of his dressing gowns. He tossed it to her without glancing up. She struggled into it and started for the door. The woman’s soft voice called out, “Stay a moment, January. Mike, you can’t let your daughter go without introducing us.”
    January stood with her back to them waiting for her release.
    “January—” her father’s voice suddenly seemed weary. “This is Dee.”
    January forced a slight nod in the woman’s direction.
    “Oh, come now, Mike,” the woman slipped her arm through his. “That’s not really a proper introduction.”
    Mike looked at his daughter and said quietly, “January . . . Dee is my wife. We got married last week.”
    She heard herself congratulating them. Her legs felt like weights, but somehow she managed to walk out of that room . . . through the living room and into the safety of her own bedroom. Only then did her knees begin to shake . . . and she rushed to the bathroom and was violently ill.

Two
    S HE SAT by the window for the rest of the night. No wonder the woman looked familiar. Dee wasn’t just Dee. She was Deirdre Milford Granger, often reported as the sixth richest woman in the world! No