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loved giving raises, the surge of power it gave him, that he could make or break these assholes.
    That evening, when the last person had left for the day, Angela locked the front door, and came into Max’s office. Max was already naked, lying on his back on his office couch, doing Kamal’s breathing exercise. She turned down the lights. It was almost dark, the only light coming through the window curtains. She took off her clothes slowly, moving the way Max liked, like she was a dancer at Legz Diamond’s, the strip club on Forty-seventh Street where he took his clients. Finally, she took off her bra, climbed on top of Max and gave him some nice warm kisses. Then she slid down and ran her tongue over his thick gray chest hair. As she dipped further, Max grinned, thinking, Who the fuck needs breathing exercises?
    Afterwards, holding her tightly, feeling especially close, Max said, “Let’s get married.”
    “We’re going to get married.”
    “I mean right away.”
    “But we’ll have to wait some time. I mean it would look suspicious if we did it too soon, wouldn’t it?”
    “What difference does it make? Just because my wife is murdered I have to spend my whole life in mourning?”
    Angela thought about this for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”
    “There’s another thing I want to talk about — kids. I’ve always wanted a little Max Jr., just not with Deirdre. What do you think about being a full-time mommy?”
    “I’d love it.”
    “Well, I want to do that right away too — while I still have some good seed inside me.”
    Later, while they were getting dressed, Max interrupted whatever the hell Angela was saying, said, “Ange, there’s something I wanted to ask you. I don’t really know how to say this. I mean I don’t want you to get offended or anything. I don’t think you will but—”
    “What is it?”
    “It’s stupid, really, but...”
    “What?”
    “It’s just... have you ever thought about adding another cup size to your tits?”
    Looking down at her implants, she said, “Why? You think they’re not big enough?”
    Max said, “I didn’t say that. I just asked you if you ever thought about it before, that’s all.”
    “They’re already thirty-eight D’s. Why, you’re serious? You really don’t like them?”
    “I didn’t say that . I just didn’t want you to think there was something you couldn’t have if you wanted it.”
    “That’s really nice of you... I guess.”
    “I’m not saying that bigger tits are something that you necessarily need.” Max wound on his tie, trying to come up with perfect way to explain it. He came up with, “I mean, I want you to have everything you want in life, whether it’s a gold necklace, a beautiful dress, a trip around the world, or great tits.”
    Strapping on her bra, Angela said, “You really think it would make me look better, huh?”
    “Not necessarily better , but I don’t think it could hurt. Anyway, sleep on it. Although I don’t mean that literally.” He laughed to himself, then said, “By the way, did you make that dinner appointment for me tomorrow night?”
    “Yes. With Jack Haywood.”
    “Good. I’ll have to take him out to some busy restaurant,maybe some Italian place on the Upper East Side. They have all those little restaurants around Second Avenue.”
    “There’re a lot of bars up there, too.”
    “I don’t know, I’d look pretty stupid — an old guy like me in some singles bar.”
    “You’re not old.”
    “I’m only not old when I’m with you.”
    When Max finished getting dressed, Angela came over to him and said, “So this is it. The last time we’ll be together — for a while anyway.”
    Hugging Angela made Max think about breasts again. He said, “You know, I don’t think a restaurant is public enough. We should be someplace more visible. I know, I’ll take Jack to a strip club.”

Five
    If my grandmother had balls she’d be my grandfather.
    Y IDDISH SAYING
    “So