Dressed to Kill Read Online Free PDF Page B

rocks off in a dream, and the screamingly funny thing is that the guy in the dream died years ago . . .
    She looked down at the pattern of the rug. A line from some old Bob Dylan song came into her head, something that didn’t make much sense: When gravity fails and negativity won’t pull you through.
    Gravity. Negativity.
    She looked at Elliott. “Maybe it’s me. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, not Mike.”
    “What do you think could be wrong with you, Kate?”
    You name it, she thought. “I don’t know. I don’t attract him, that could be it. I’m not attractive to him.”
    “Come on,” Elliott said. “You’re off target.”
    “You think I’m attractive?”
    “Of course I do.”
    “Would you want to sleep with me?”
    “Yes. In the right circumstances. You’re a very attractive woman.”
    “The right circumstances,” she said. “What would they be?”
    Elliott smiled and indicated a photograph on his desk, then reached towards it, turning it around so she could see it. His wife, naturally. Kate saw a woman with a face that was both pretty and severe; there was something tired in the faint smile that lay on her mouth, as if it were less an expression than something she’d chosen to wear for the purpose of a picture. What would it be like to be Elliott’s wife? she wondered. Did they sit up in bed at night with their Book-of-the-Month Club selections? Maybe she was more Literary Guild and he Psychology Book Club. She had a sudden picture of Bob and Emily Newhart in their TV bedroom, and she wondered if Elliott’s home life was like that sitcom and all at once she wanted to laugh.
    “I’m married,” he said. “Breach of ethics aside, why would I jeopardize my marriage, and you yours, just because we wanted a few minutes in bed? It doesn’t seem worth the risk.”
    “The question was hypothetical,” Kate said. Breach of ethics!
    “I know it was.”
    “Sometimes I don’t feel attractive . . .”
    “Then you’re underestimating your own worth, that’s all. You’ve got to open up to Mike. You’ve got to get through to him. If you don’t, I can’t see any future for the marriage.”
    She nodded. “Open up. Right. I’ll try it. I’ll try opening up.”
    “There’s no other course, you know that, don’t you?”
    She turned her gloves around in her hands. “He’s a bad listener.”
    “You’ve got to make him listen, Kate.”
    “I’ll rope him to a chair.”
    Elliott smiled. “If you have to. But when you make him understand, I think you’ll find the dreams will stop.”
    I don’t want them to stop, she thought. Don’t you see that, Elliott? I don’t want the dreams ever to stop.
    “Why don’t we make it the same time next week?” Elliott said.
    “Sure,” she said. In and out, like a bird in a cuckoo clock. And what was she left with at the end of a session? The ordeal of talking to Mike?
    He walked with her back into the reception room. He looked at his watch again. He said, “I know I’m cutting this short, but I’ve got one of those dreadful professional symposiums to attend.”
    “Take it off my bill,” she said.
    He looked at her for a time in silence. She noticed a thin line of perspiration on his forehead. (My God, the good doctor sweats. He’s a human being and all the time I was under the impression he was a listening device.) He shook her hand curtly and smiled and went back inside his office.
    She walked along the corridor thinking of the time she would have to kill before the lunch date—the dreaded lunch date with Mike and Mother Frost.
    Shit. She didn’t like killing time.
    4
    Beep. Elliott. This is Bobbi. Remember me? I’ve got a new shrink now, Elliott. I don’t need you. I don’t fucking need you. He’s going to help me. Not like you. He’s called Levy. Maybe you’ve heard of him? But we’re not through yet, Elliott. I’m not finished with you yet. I took something from your office today, Elliott. Guess what? Can’t you guess,