Where Is Bianca? Read Online Free PDF Page A

hadn’t left a mark on him, at least not physically.
    How could such a mature, handsome body and face conceal such a child?
    Ainsley said to the traffic below, “I don’t blame you for being angry with me, Jeanie.”
    â€œLet’s not go through the promises and resolutions bit again, Daddy, shall we?”
    â€œVery well.”
    â€œSometimes you do more than make me angry,” she said in a too-quiet voice. “Sometimes you almost make me wish.…”
    Carlton Ainsley turned, his electric blue eyes full of affection. His beautifully modulated baritone sounded sad. “I wish it, too, my dear. For your sake. Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to get up enough nerve to do it.”
    â€œThat’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Jean said wearily. “What am I going to do with you, Daddy?”
    The corners of his mouth turned down, the child upbraided. But it would pass, Jean thought. He had a sort of built-in emotional sieve for straining out unpleasantness. In and out, and away we go.
    She banged down in her white leather desk chair and reached for a cigarette. “I do wish you’d stop playing games and tell me what’s been bothering you the past few days.”
    â€œJeanie dear,” he said, making for her. “You’re imagining things.”
    â€œAnd don’t start pawing me. You know how I hate it.” He stopped in mid-stride. “Why can’t you ever talk to me as if I were what I am? You know you can’t con me, Dad. I figured you out a long time ago. Right now my radar tells me you’re setting yourself for another unpleasantness. It doesn’t make sense, with Dmitri Karam coming back from Europe and the details worked on for the new TV series. You ought to be riding high, instead of trying to drown yourself in vodka martinis. And, by the way, that’s one mystery about you I’ve never solved. How do you drink so much and still manage to look as if you’d just got back from a month in the fresh air?”
    Ainsley fingered his silk cravat with the gesture that indicated he was pleased. “The good Lord invested me with incorruptible tissues,” he said. “As for the martinis, can’t a man go on a toot for no other reason than that he feels like going on a toot?”
    â€œNot you, Pa. And it wasn’t just a toot, it was a hundred-proof swinger. You left a three-day spoor through several dozen cheap bars, joints where you wouldn’t ordinarily be caught dead. And with Mr. Karam’s palace of an apartment at your disposal while he’s abroad, you wind up in a flophouse that would make you throw up if you were sober.”
    â€œI know, I know,” he muttered.
    He sounded utterly miserable, and Jean, to her disgust, softened. She tossed her cigarette into the ashtray and got up and went to him. The arm she touched was actually shaking.
    â€œWhat made you suddenly start punishing yourself again, Daddy?”
    He put his arms around her and held her tightly. “I’m a trial to you, I know. I represent an unpleasant past, a questionable present, and a frightening future. All the time you should be occupied with no other thoughts than hooking some handsome young millionaire and settling down to a flock of rampaging brats.”
    â€œOh, the hell with that,” said Jean in a muffled voice. It was useless.
    â€œNo man’s ever had a more wonderful child. Jean, I love you, I really do. I’ve been the world’s lousiest father to you, and you’ve deserved the best. The truth is, I’m gutless. Always have been. I didn’t want responsibilities when I married your mother, and I suppose I still don’t want them. All I can ask is your understanding.”
    She knew that he was not merely indulging in histrionics, however theatrical his delivery. He was no more capable of uttering an honest-sounding line than most other actors of his generation.
    Jean