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leave me as I drank maybe a third of the brandy and soda and felt the warmth under the cold soda ease through my system. I looked at Susan, at the width of her mouth, the fullness of her lower lip, the line of her cheekbone. I watched her dab a microscopic portion of salsa on one corner of a crabmeat taco and bite off an edge. It was a small taco, the kind you pop into your mouth all at once, if you’re any kind of an eater at all. It would take Susan fifteen minutes to finish it. She chewed her tiny bite carefully, watching me look at her.
    â€œSo,” she said, and her teeth flashed white and even as she smiled at me. “How do I stack up against Jill Joyce?”
    I popped one of the empanadas into my mouth and chewed. I washed it down with more brandy and soda.
    â€œI think I’d need to see you both naked before I can make a full judgment,” I said.
    Susan nodded thoughtfully.
    â€œWell, I could arrange that at my end,” she said.
    â€œNicely phrased,” I said. “Jill has already made a similar offer.”
    Susan poured a splash of cognac into her tea, took a small sip, and put the teacup down. She watched a couple of guys in tweed overcoats and plaid scarves come in, rubbing their hands and hunching their shoulders from the cold. They crossed to the bar, put briefcases on the floor, and ordered Jack Daniel’s on the rocks. Susan looked back at me. Her big dark eyes seemed bottomless.
    â€œHard to blame her,” Susan said.
    â€œYes,” I said, “of course it is. I think for her it was love at first sight.”
    â€œIt happens to her a lot, I understand.”
    â€œYou mean there’s someone else?” I said.
    Susan’s smile widened. She sipped a little more tea, assessed its impact, added another small splash of cognac. “I think so,” she said.
    â€œOh, well,” I said. “There’s always you.”
    â€œI adore it when you sweet-talk me,” Susan said.
    â€œEmphasis on the always,” I said.
    â€œYes,” Susan said. She finished the first crab taco. “So,” she said, “she made a pass at you?”
    â€œAlmost an assault,” I said.
    â€œAnd you turned her down.”
    â€œI didn’t get the chance to. She passed out.”
    â€œTell me about it,” Susan said. “Everything. Every detail.”
    I did. By the time I’d finished it was time for another brandy and soda. When it arrived I slid down a little in my chair and stretched out my legs in front of me and watched the amusement play on Susan’s face. Outside in the darkness life barely moved in the sullen cold. Inside was food and drink and Susan and the whole evening ahead. Susan made the measuring gesture with her hands, mimicking Jill Joyce.
    â€œThis long?” she said. “Good heavens.”
    She looked at me, looked back at the measured distance between her hands, looked at me again, and slowly shook her head. I shrugged.
    â€œI thought I could bluff it through,” I said.
    â€œYou think that about everything,” Susan said. “Are you going to take the job?”
    I turned the glass around in little circles on the table in front of me, holding it lightly with both hands, watching it revolve.
    â€œI don’t know,” I said.
    â€œShe’s awfully difficult,” Susan said. She had her elbows on the table and she held her teacup in both hands, talking to me over the rim.
    â€œYeah,” I said.
    â€œToday was not unusual,” Susan said.
    â€œWhat about the four and a half pages they had to shoot this afternoon?” I said.
    â€œSandy will shoot around it,” Susan said. “He’s amazing.”
    â€œWhy don’t they just fire her?” I said. “Get someone who’s sober all day?”
    â€œTVQ,” Susan said and smiled like she does when she’s able to kid me and herself at the same time.
    The maître d’ came over and told us our