Free The Artist's Paradise by Pamela S Wetterman Page B

at the waiter. “So I forgot our eighth anniversary. All was well when Tiffany’s delivered the pricey diamond pendant. We’re fine, really.”
    “Look, man, I’m not trying to mess in your business, but all is not fine if she has left the nest for a week end after you messed up. You got trouble, and I’m the expert in getting into trouble. Angie is a great find. I hope you patch this up.”
    The waiter placed two cold mugs of beer on the table.
    Jonathan picked up his and downed it in four chugs.  “I’ve had to spend a lot of time away from home working on a big trial. She gets pissy about it. That’s what women do. The trial’s over. She’ll be fine.”
    “Women don’t do well spending too much time alone.”
    “Not to worry my good friend. I’m not planning on exiting this marriage.”
    Joe slid back his chair. “Angie’s one nice package.”
    Jonathan threw his cloth napkin on the table and glared at Joe. “You’re right. She’s a looker, great in the sack, and a real asset at the required dinners. But most importantly, I love her. She loves me. We are not on the path to divorce.”
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in. Life can become a slippery slope if you don’t know you’re on the muddy side of the hill.” Joe leaned in close. “If I’ve learned one thing, it’s that I should’ve stayed with my first wife, Terri, and worked it out. I’ve repeated my mistakes over and over and now I’m alone. It’s not a great life, being single.”
    Jonathan leaned across the table and patted his friend’s arm. “I appreciate your concern. I have to get going. I’ll call you again soon, and we’ll play tennis. Maybe we can make it doubles. Are you seeing anyone now?”
    “Sure, I’m always seeing someone. But never the same someone more than a few times. I guess my bad habits get to be irritating.” Joe grabbed the bill and said, “I’m paying for lunch. You go work on your marriage.”
    #
    The cabbie dropped Jonathan off at his brownstone a few minutes after two o’clock in the afternoon. He scooted up the stone entrance steps and unlocked the front door, heading straight to his home office to set up the rest of the weekend.
    Two hours later, a tired and discouraged Jonathan settled for Pizza Hut and an on-demand movie. By nine p.m., he had run out of things to do.
    He decided to turn in early. The brownstone creaked from the wind as he meandered up the stairs to his bedroom. He pulled on his pajama s and flipped on the plasma TV. Not ready for sleep, he picked up the land phone and called Gina’s home number.
    Her husband, Wayne, picked up after five rings.
    “Hello?”
    “Wayne, Jonathan. Is Gina there?”
    “Yeah, I’ll get her for you. Anything wrong?”
    “No, I’ve got a quick question to ask, that’s all.”
    The phone receiver hit something as the conversation stopped.  He heard Wayne’s voice. “Gina, it’s that boss of yours.”
    Jonathan exhaled, resettled himself on the bed, and waited.
    “Boss, what can I do for you this fine Friday night?”
    He shuffled his feet and kicked off his loafers. “You’re a woman, right?”
    “What?”
    “Sorry, of course you are. I meant I need some advice and you are the most sensible woman I know.”
    Gina let out a loud but stifled giggle. “More trouble at home?”
    “Well, maybe. I’m not sure. That’s why I called.”
    Jonathan pulled his legs up on the bed and settled his back against the pillows braced on the headboard.
    “What happened?”
    “Angie left.”
    “Left? Oh no.”
    Wayne’s voice resounded in the background. “Gina, it’s your turn. Will you be off the phone soon?”
    “I’ll be there in a minute. Take a snack break.”
    Jonathan rubbed his eyes. “Sorry I bot hered you at home. We can talk Monday.”
    “It’s not a problem. I have a minute, really.”
    “Thanks.” He let out a slow sigh. “She left last Monday. Said she had to get away. She’s with her best friend Vicki.” He rolled over on