The Last Chance Read Online Free PDF Page B

time,” he said. He had a soft, sweet voice, sexy. But just a kid. Nothing for her—she’d have to be crazy.
    “I have to go to work soon,” Margot said. “I do live news on TV.”
    “I’ve seen you,” he said. “Margot King. Murder and mayhem at eleven.” He smiled. He had sensual lips and perfect teeth.
    “You know who I am, but who are you?”
    “I’m Kerry Fowler.”
    “Related to …?”
    “Lawrence Fowler’s son.”
    Oh, God, someone’s son. She had graduated from someone’s husband to someone’s son. Her aging was complete. Lawrence and Rachel didn’t have any children, and Rachel was too young to be this boy’s mother anyway, so he must be from Lawrence’s long-ago first marriage. She found herself laughing.
    “What’s funny?”
    “Me,” Margot said.
    “Are you having a good time?”
    “I don’t like the noise and smoke, but I like parties. At least, I always think I’m going to like them. When I was a little girl my mother always used to get me something new when there was going to be a party, a dress or shoes or something, and she would put it in the closet and say, ‘Now, you can’t wear this until the party.’ So I’d wait and wait, thinking something wonderful was going to happen, and then the party was always a disappointment. I guess the fantasy of what would happen to me when I wore that dress was better than what ever did happen.” She smiled, looking carefully at this boy, Kerry, to make sure he wasn’t laughing at her. “I guess I’m still that way.”
    “Me too,” he said. “I used to go to camp, and my parents would buy me all this stuff, and I’d fantasize about camping out in the woods and how great it would be, and then I’d always get in trouble with the counselors about breaking some rule, and they’d have to send for my parents and it would be a big hassle.”
    “I loathed camp,” Margot said. “I’d sit in my bunk and read instead of being good at athletics, and all the other girls hated me.”
    “We have the same memories.”
    “We can’t possibly have the same memories,” Margot said, “you’re too young.”
    “I’m twenty-three.”
    Sixteen years older than he is. But if I were a man and he was a young girl, nobody would think it was so terrible. “I’m thirtynine.”
    He absolutely beamed. “That’s great! You don’t look it. I thought you were about twenty-eight.”
    “Only because at your age thirty-nine is unimaginable,” Margot said. “What do you do anyway?”
    “I’m a writer.”
    “Published?”
    “I have a contract for my first novel, which is about halfway finished. It’s not autobiographical.”
    “Okay.”
    “It’s sort of a fantasy.”
    “They’re the best,” Margot said. “My entire life is fantasy.”
    “The news?”
    “No, my private life. In self-defense against the news.”
    “Can I come with you when you go to work tonight?” He sounded so earnest, like a kid.
    She shrugged. “I guess so. You can watch me type.”
    “I’m not much good at parties anyway,” he said. “And besides, I thought then maybe you and I could go have a drink somewhere.”
    I wonder if he thinks I’m a celebrity. No, he wouldn’t; he’s been around celebrities all his life. Maybe he just thinks I’m interesting. “Okay.”
    His eyes were big and green, like a cat’s, curious and knowing. “You’re wondering why I want to be with you,” he said. “But I’m wondering why you want to be with me. I think you’re beautiful.”
    “Let’s just say I think you’re beautiful too,” Margot said lightly, but she felt her heart turn over. I think I’m not so dead after all, she thought.
    Rachel saw Margot King leave with Kerry and she smiled. Women just loved that boy and he loved them too. If she’d been a different type of woman she might have wanted to have a go at him herself. But she had never cheated on Lawrence in the ten years they’d been married. Even with the little sex he gave her, she had no