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The black-haired girl justbared a wicked grin.Somehow, I got to my car, got to the highway, found a rest stop with noone else around, got a change of clothes from the bag I'd thrown in thetrunk. And tried to turn back into me.Watching Mrs Gentry now, I tried to tell myself not to worry, that I hadmade the switch back carefully enough. If she sensed something, she didn'tseem to care.I could see she struggled over what to tell me. No girlfriend, not for R.Richard Gentry. No money worries. No enemies. No awkward moments at theclub. No nothing.I tried to keep her talking; she hated every minute that I stayed. Slowlythough, I picked up bits and pieces. Married six, seven years. No kids.Met up in Richmond; she was doing this-and-that at the Virginia Museum,the symphony backers; he was taking painting classes at night, I guess tomake up for falling into a nice soft nest at one of the downtown trustcompanies. He was, she couldn't keep from hinting, somewhat sadly, anartist way down deep. It was a lively group and we really were having fun. And so, I didn't leave when I should have, probably.The tall figure loomed over me and I looked up and smiled into gray-blue eyes and silver temples."Could I have this dance?" he said.Carl was a very good dancer. You can tell immediately when you are going to dance well with a man and this was one of those times. It is just completely different. Every step is perfect. Your body meets his all at once, not a bump at a time. I can't explain it. You just know it when you find it. We were simpatico. Even though he was a foot taller than me, our strides seemed mated.I should have known this was going to be that kind of evening when he brought me back to the table and there was another round of drinks waiting. I was feeling a little light headed, but he was gracious and I really enjoyed our dance. The second band came in to spell the first one and they were not as good. Our party was getting louder and louder. My friends were having a.
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