Tuesday at noon, the receptionist called to tell Liz that an employer was in the lobby to see her.  Liz knew of no appointments so she asked who the employer was.  The receptionist told her it was Harvey Caldwell. 

     Liz was certain as she went out to the lobby to meet Harvey that she knew why he had come.

     "You didn't call me!" he exclaimed.

     Liz stuck out her hand.  "I didn't know I was supposed to," she replied. 

     Harvey brushed her hand aside and hugged her.  "Liz!  I was only teasing!"  He stood back to look at her.  "If the mountain does not go to Mohammed, then Mohammed must come to the mountain.”

     Liz ignored his remark as she led Harvey back to her office, went in and closed the door after him.  She sat in her swivel so she could use the desk as a barrier between herself and Harvey.  She eyed him warily.  He appeared to be his usual dapper self, wearing a sporty double-breasted navy blue jacket with gold buttons and gray trousers.  His brown hair was combed straight back with no part, his brown eyes constantly roving.    

     Harvey sat in the first chair.  "Nice office," he said.  "Seriously, I do need a salesman and, being a very loyal friend, I came straight to my favorite headhunter.  One of my business strengths is my loyalty.  I still can't believe you're a headhunter, but I guess all those impressive plaques on the wall and those framed newspaper clippings must prove it.  Why don't we go over to the Beverly Wilshire for lunch and I'll tell you about the salesman I need while you explain your fees to me."

     Liz hesitated before finally agreeing to go to lunch with Harvey.  She finally decided it was silly to turn down money.  While they ate, at the Beverly Wilshire, she found that Harvey really did have a job order for a salesman, which he told her about.  She threw a thirty per cent fee at him and made no offer to lower it.  After the dishes had been taken away, Harvey reached over and clasped her hand, telling her, "I have thought a lot about you since the night of the party at my house."

     Liz withdrew her hand slowly, saying, "Oh-h-h . . . “

     "Yes.  I must admit I've been a fan of yours for many years.  You are an incredibly beautiful and bright woman."  He took a sip of coffee.  "Of course, you were married, and I respected that.  I stayed away from you.  But, now, there's no reason to stay away."

     As he talked, Liz tried to form a mental picture of Harvey's wife, Joan.

     "I would like very much to spend some time with you, get to really know you," he said.

     "What would Joan have to say if she found out?" Liz asked, hoping to short-circuit Harvey by confronting him with his own wife.

     Harvey laughed.  "I thought you knew.  Joan is two years older than I, very wealthy in her own right, and has her own interests, which, I might add, include seeing any man she wishes at any time.  She was in Madrid two weeks ago and was escorted by a bullfighter!  We have a very modern marriage.  Total freedom.  We each use the other when we need to."

     Alarmed that her plan had backfired, Liz turned away.  "Harvey, I don't think—“

     "Please!" he interrupted.  "Think about it!  I'm a very wealthy man who is totally overwhelmed with you.  I can provide you anything—anything you wish or need."  He slid his business card across the table to her.  "That's my private cell number with voice mail which automatically forwards calls to me any time, any place.  I’m subject to the world’s time spans so I have to do this, which makes me available at any time, day or night.”  He winked reassuringly.  "I'm going to take a weekend sail on my yacht from Marina del Rey out to Ventura and the Channel Islands this weekend.  The ocean is bursting with whales and dolphins and pelicans this time of year.  Please come with me."

                                   #

     Liz and Harvey Caldwell tied up Harvey's fifty foot yacht at midday in the bright sunlight and walked along the wood pier at the sprawling Ventura harbor.  Harvey guided her through the wood walkways up to the boardwalk, then to a restaurant in a cluster of rustic, wooden buildings.  They went inside the restaurant, up the stairs, and took a seat at a table on a patio overlooking the huge harbor.  A pianist tapped out classical music behind them.

     "Ventura and Oxnard have really grown," Harvey said.  His round face swung out toward the harbor, his glistening brown eyes surveying the boats.  He had a short nose and a smooth, triangular jaw.  The wind had tasseled his straight brown hair on the trip from Marina del Rey to the Ventura harbor.  Harvey had tossed numerous nautical terms at her, from navigating to steering to the chandlery in the harbor he wanted to visit to buy items for his boat.  He had also let her steer and told her how to use the compass. 

     "I made a lot of money on some condos I bought here back when they were giving them away several years ago.  Had to hold onto them a while but they went up six-fold.  Some people never learn: they aren’t making any new oceans, or ocean-front property.   Life is different along the ocean.”

     “In what way?” Liz asked.

     “Ventura is where I first got involved with what I call 'The Ocean People.'"  He explained that ocean people had their own peculiar way of life, most of it tied to boats.  "I admit it!" he said with a grin.  "I got hooked!  Now, I'm one of the ocean people!  Took classes on sailing and navigation, radar, all that seamanship stuff.  Love my yacht!  Would just live on it all the time if I could.  That's why I named her, ‘Escape to Work.’  We've got computers, FAX machines, copy machines--a complete office on board--and a huge galley stocked with food.  I slip off to Catalina Island or San Diego or Ensenada, Mexico, any time I get the chance.” 

     Liz surveyed the harbor as she listened to Harvey.  She guessed there were several thousand boats tied up along the wood piers that seemed to form a walkway across the harbor.  The activity at noon was heavy, with many boats heading out for the weekend into the Channel Islands.  They would take the harbor tour with other tourists after they ate.  Liz felt comfortable in faded jeans and a pale blue T-shirt, wondered if she fit into Harvey's description of the ocean people.  Harvey was wearing white shorts and white deck shoes, a silky, Chinese red golf shirt, and his white Skipper's cap. 

     They ordered wine with their brunch.  When the waiter brought the wine, Harvey poured two glasses, handed her one, and said, simply, "Thank you for coming."

     They touched glasses.  As Liz sipped her wine, she started feeling better about the decision she had made to join Harvey on his yacht for the day.  The situation at work had prompted her decision, as Vege had come to tell her on Thursday that she was leaving, accepting another headhunter's position with a small company in Anaheim.  Liz was distraught at losing her new friend and confidant; they both knew they would not see much of each other after she left.  Vege told her that a friend in the business had offered her a fifty-fifty partnership and that she could not turn it down.

     "The headhunting business is always in total flux," she told Harvey.  She explained that new people came into the business in great numbers, usually with high expectations at what appeared to be a simple business.  But many quickly left after they learned how difficult it was, and older headhunters constantly left to go into business for themselves, like Vege.  The SAW office felt lonely to her now, with Stan and Debbie gone, Vege leaving, and she felt estranged, with no attachment to a truculent Mike Clark or the new Office Manager, a flighty girl named Barbara, after  she heard Red Neck tell Bully that Barbara couldn’t carry Debbie’s load and wouldn't last a month.

     Liz raised her glass to Harvey and said, "Thank you for letting me make the sales placement."  She watched as Harvey grinned.  On Friday, Liz had made the salesman placement with Harvey, earning SAW a fee of ten thousand dollars, and herself a commission of five thousand dollars, which had lessened the relentless pressure from Mike Clark to make placements.  She had felt obligated on Friday to say, "Yes," when Harvey had again pressed her to go with him on the yacht trip.  She had made certain Harvey understood she was not going to spend the night with him, on his yacht or in a hotel, nor was she going to sleep with him.  Her ego was still recovering from the Randy Wilcox affair.

     "Why so distant?" Harvey asked.

     Liz smiled.  "The headhunting business," she said slowly.  “Don’t let me bore you, but like the ocean being your new life, the headhunting business is my new life.  It's so . . . fluid . . . unsettling.  Constantly changing."

     "You know what they say about life being a river."

     Liz nodded.  "Life is that," she agreed.  "And headhunting is even more so.  But, headhunting is also a lonely business.  You work by yourself most of the time, talk with clients, search for candidates, find the right one, like Art James for your sales job, then you don't talk to your client or your candidate again.  You go to your next job order and to a whole new group of people."

     "Why don't you start your own business?" he asked.

     "My own business?  Never thought about it."

     "Hell, I thought about it yesterday when I signed the check to SAW for ten thousand dollars.  You only got five thousand of that.  SAW didn't earn five thousand dollars off me in three days.  All they’re providing you is a desk and phone and place to work.  You did all the work!  Trust me!  I'm an investor.  I'd put you into business any time for profits like that.  And, I'm always looking for compatible new business ventures to invest in."

     "You are?  Are you serious?"

     He smiled, his brown eyes turning soft as he fixed them on her.  "Liz," he began, "I'm not out here for a quick jump into the sack-- unless you are!"  He grinned.  "Did you change your mind?  Just teasing.  I like to develop long term relationships and I think you'll see me in a very different light in a few weeks."  He winked.  "I've been keeping an eye on you for years and now that you're on the market, I want you to know how I really feel about you."  He held up his wine glass.  "What do you Italians say?"

     “Cin-Cin!  Cheers!"  She held up her glass.  She felt good about their relationship, and she was extremely intrigued with Harvey’s idea of going into business for herself.  It was worth exploring, and she had the entire afternoon to get answers.  She could feel Zingara breathing fire to goad Harvey into telling her more, to lead him on, to tease him if necessary.  Zingara was silently saying, “Liz, you are a Neanderthal wimp if you don’t rub up against fifty million dollars to extract the information he is begging to give you.  After all, all he wants is to sleep with you.  So do it.”

     ”Liz smiled as she said softly, “Tell me more.”

                                    #

     Liz took a deep breath and decided to go ahead and confront Joan Caldwell.  After her trip on the yacht with Harvey to Ventura and the Channel Islands Saturday, she had felt guilty, and was certain Joan Caldwell had been waiting for just the right moment at Gina's wedding shower to corner Liz alone and confront her.  Liz knew there was no escape in her own house, even in the presence of forty women. 

     "Been trying to corner you," Joan said sternly.  She grabbed Liz by the arm and led her down the hall into Timmy's bed room, went in and closed the door.  "I heard you shacked-up with Harvey on my yacht last weekend while I was in Madrid!  Did you?"

     "No Joan, I did not shack up with Harvey on his yacht!"

     "Liz, I have boat attendants who saw you!  I can't believe this!"

     Liz took Joan to Timmy's bed where they both sat down on the edge of the bed facing each other.  "Joan," she began, "Why don't you ask Harvey about--“

     "I did!  And, he told me he was with you!  You, a friend, I thought.  I mean, the fluzzies, the hookers, the one-nighters and other temps are one thing, but I don’t understand you, a beautiful married woman and friend."

     "Harvey made me a proposition I couldn't refuse."

     "Harvey has made a lot of women propositions!  And, none of them ever refused!"

     Liz smiled as she reached out to touch Joan's hand.  "Joan, mine was a business proposition.  Harvey is going to help me set up my own business right here in Encino."

     "So, you didn't sleep with him?"

     "Girl Scout's honor!" Liz declared.  She held up three fingers.  Harvey had kissed her several times on the return trip to Marina del Rey but Liz decided to keep that a secret.  She added, "Joan, I'll make a pact with you: if I decide to sleep with Harvey I'll come and tell you first and get your permission, because, believe me, I have no such intentions."

     Joan smiled.  "It seems I owe you an apology.  You have really changed, Liz, from the quiet little bumpkin mouse who followed Doug around everywhere and never disagreed with him to the independent business woman.  Thank you for being direct and honest with me.  I do apologize."  

     She reached across to hug Liz.

     The door burst open.  Gina stood there dripping wet, in a skirt and blouse.  "Sorry!" she puffed.  "But, they threw me into the pool, to wash off the other two marriages!  I really need some dry clothes!"

                                 #

     "Mom!" Timmy yelled.  "Can we eat some of this stuff?"

     Liz laughed as she continued washing dirty dishes from Gina's shower.  "Yes," she called back.  "Go ahead!  You're going to be eating it for several days!"  She watched Timmy and Carolyn, a slender blonde girl with a long pony tail, load their plates with leftover food from Gina's wedding shower.  Timmy’s friend, Freddie, and a dark-haired girl named Lynn also loaded their plates.  The fact that all four of them were wearing braces on their teeth did not seem to affect their selection of food.

     "We're going outside by the pool," Timmy yelled.

     Liz stopped to watch her son and the others chatter as they trotted out to one of the tables set up around the pool for Gina's shower.  Timmy had sprouted several inches since last summer, had started shaving.  She regretted that she had not spent more time with him in the past few months.

     "He's growing up!" Doug said.

     Liz turned back to see Doug standing in the middle of the kitchen.  She nodded agreement, saying, "It's a little frightening, in a way, to watch him grow so fast."

     Doug came to stand beside Liz at the kitchen sink, to stare out the window at Timmy and Carolyn.  "How did the shower go?" he asked.

     "Good," Liz replied.  "Quite a rowdy bunch!  They sang and chanted and at the end they threw Gina into the pool, to wash away her previous two marriages, symbolically speaking.  I don't know about those computer people and those professors.  Some were . . . different.  Well, actually, strange."

     "You mean way-out weird?   Eccentric is the nice word.  Anyway, I'd like to talk about several things.  Will you be here tonight?"

     Liz said that all she had to do was take Timmy and his friends to the movies at Mann Theater.  Carolyn's mom would pick them up and bring them home after the movies.

     "I'll ride along with you and we can talk," Doug said.

     Liz wondered what Doug wanted to talk about.

     After they dropped Timmy and his friends off at the movie, Doug suggested they go by Casa for a drink, since he hadn’t seen Tony in a long time.

     Liz protested at first that she had to return to clean up the mess from the shower and that there was loads of food at home.  But, when Doug insisted she decided he had to have a good reason.

     "The 'Ugly Devil' himself!" Tony proclaimed.  "I put up with you just so I can see my lovely 'Encino Sophia Loren.  I don’t know why she married you when I was available."  He bumped Doug aside with his butt as he kissed Liz's hand.

     They sat in a booth at the back, awkward at first, each grasping for something to say.  Doug told her his job was going very well and that the real estate market was beginning to change.  "A Realtor called me today.  We might have a chance to unload the house and escape--get out even, get our down payment back, if you're interested," he said.

     Liz agreed.  "Timmy and I don't need all that room," she added.  "So, are you ready to talk about the divorce?"

     "I'd rather talk about getting you back," he said.

     Liz looked across the table at Doug's glistening blue eyes.  "I'm astonished," she admitted softly.

     He nodded.  "I know . . . I know.  I haven't been much of a father or a husband.  I let the booze get the best of me in a crisis and nearly folded for good.”  He explained that he had forced her to manage their lives after the shooting.  “But, now that things are back to normal--I'm working--I finally realized that I never stopped loving you, that I owe you a lot, and that I can't really explain what happened to me after I got fired and the shooting.  I did learn that you can't just turn love on and off like a switch."

     Liz took a sip of wine then told Doug she given no thought to a possible reconciliation with him.  "I'm not the same woman, not the same 'patsy' I was before the shooting.  Gina calls me her ‘modern Neanderthal woman.’  I have changed, Doug.  Drastically!  You forced me to change to survive!  So, I changed, and I survived without you."

     "Don't think I haven't noticed.  You've become very professional since you became a headhunter."

     Liz shrugged.  "The sales training makes you think; makes you establish some guide lines in their life, set priorities.  I'm thankful for the training.  But, you don't train to love.  Love and respect seem to go together; you have to have one to have the other.  Right now, my life is changing again."  She told him about going into business for herself with Harvey Caldwell as a partner.

     "Harvey Caldwell?  Doesn't Harvey crawl on female bones like a hungry dog?"

     Liz glared at Doug.  "I'm not here to explain my life without you the past several months.  You never gave me any explanation for your actions, so we can end this conversation right here if you think I have to justify my actions to you."

     "No!  No!"  Doug held up his hand.  "Peace.  I'm not asking you to explain.  I'm not entitled to that.  What I want to know is: what can I do to win you back?"

     Liz paused to think.  "I don't know if you can 'win' me back," she said.  "Your infidelity for the third time is a considerable barrier.  I hurt inside, Doug.  Can you understand my hurt?  Can you be honest, explain to me what happened to us?"

     He said he would try.  "My ego was wounded when I got fired," he began.  "Seriously wounded.  Nothing had ever happened to me like that in my entire life.  It was my first serious setback, my first real personal defeat.  I was totally dejected after having done a fantastic job in which I thought I was going to be richly rewarded.  I couldn't even think.  You saw me as a pitiful loser--“

     "Doug!"

     He held up his hand.  "Please, Liz.  Listen to me: it's the truth.  I couldn't face you because you lost all respect for me.  Nothing I did or said made any difference.  I wasn't the king of my own house, I wasn't the authority, the decision-maker.  I wasn't even in control of my own life any longer.  I started drinking and it got out of hand.  Our roles totally reversed, with you literally becoming the head of the house, which really destroyed my ego.  I just couldn't admit to myself that my own wife, who had never worked and had no training, could go out and be phenomenally successful in the business world--my world--and save my miserable butt."

     "Was that a back door compliment?  I get so few from you."

     "Yes.  I'm sincere.  I tried to avoid you.  I learned that the mind is a more powerful force than the body when I tried to have sex with you one night about two weeks after I got fired and . . . nothing.”  He shrugged, then looked away.  "I was aching to touch you, to just hang onto you, but my damned ego just wouldn't allow it.  I'd reach out and draw back.  A number of times.  Liz, I was impotent.  Went to see a Shrink.  Told him I couldn't think of anything except failing.  I was failing in everything that I had always been successful doing.  You can’t imagine what that does to your ego.”  He shrugged, wiped a tear away from his eyes. "I felt so bad I snorted coke with Rags . . . “

      Liz stared at Doug in disbelief.  "You?  Coke?"  She shook her head.  "That's not like you.  I knew you were drinking heavy but since we never talked I never suspected you were on drugs.”

     "It's over," he assured her.  "I really was out of it for several weeks.  The low point was Harvey’s party.  I was really loaded, coke and booze.”

     She told him she knew he was drunk which is why she had driven.

     "As soon as I got the job I stopped.  But Rags is hooked.  He's in bad shape."

     "Sorry.  You really were a stranger a long time."

     He wiped the tears from his eyes.  "I felt like the stranger you called me at Malibu the day of the shooting.  Do you remember?"

     Liz nodded.  She remembered riding down Malibu Canyon road the afternoon of the shooting and seeing Doug as a stranger, a person she had once known who had changed completely.  She had asked herself that afternoon if one person could ever really come to know another person.  "I'm not sure I know you now," she said.  "You even look different to me."

     "Then, give me a chance," he said.  "Let's try again to reach each other."

     Liz hesitated.  "Doug, I don't know!  We've both changed so much.”  She looked across the table at him again, the confidence apparent in the grin on his square face.  "At least, it's good to see you the way you used to be.  I admit I couldn't stand you when you were a total loser."

     "You always gave me a hard time about being arrogant."

     "Yes . . . yes I did.  Funny how things change."

     "He slid around the booth close to her.  "Liz, I’m begging you to give me a chance.  I still love you.  Let's try it again for a month, see if it's workable.  If it's not we'll both know soon enough."

                                    #

     “What a cock-and-bull story!" Gina proclaimed when Liz told her she and Doug were reconciled.  "He's up to something!  He needs to use you for some reason which will soon become very apparent!"

     They walked to the door of the aerobics room where Liz stopped. “I’m confused," she admitted.  Doug had taken her home from Casa, picked her up and carried her into her bedroom.  "Don't tell me sesso isn't important, Gina.”

     They argued as they walked out into the street, down to Casa, and inside where they sat at their usual booth in the back.  “Betta,” Gina began seriously, “you evolved from a Neanderthal into a tough modern business woman, but you still have that one glaring weakness: you fall for any guy who tells you he loves you.  Is it some kind of addiction?”

     “So you don’t believe Doug?”

     “Not for one New York minute.”  She shook her head.  “You’re repeating history, making the same mistakes you made in the past.  This time it was Cheryl.  Next time it will be another young blonde.”

     Liz sighed.  "At least Timmy has a real father again."

     Gina grimaced.  "Timmy?  Don't use Timmy as an excuse to justify appeasement in your own life!  Why on earth would you go back to Doug?”

     “Amore.  Simple as that.  Love does rule the world.  Even Tony agrees.  Right, Tony?”

     Tony stood staring at Liz.  “Got to have amore or sesso is evil,” Tony responded.  He winked as he wagged a finger at Liz.  “You know your priest will tell you that, too.”

     Gina crowed, "Betta, a modern woman would have already divorced Doug.  Don’t revert to the Neanderthal woman you used to be because Doug is a powder keg with a fuse waiting to be lit so he can explode.  You know that.  So, admit it.”

                                     #

     "Going to Ronnie Baby's old stomping grounds!" Doug said as he wheeled the car out of the motel near Mojave.   “Twenty Mule Team Borax country.”  They had spent Saturday night in Mojave, north of Los Angeles, after visiting friends near Edwards Air Force Base where space flights often landed.

     Liz squinted into the bright, white desert sunshine at the stubby Joshua trees with limbs like hairy, contorted fingers.  She watched wind gusts scoop the fine, powdery cream-colored sand from the desolate dry lake beds and hurl the sand like fine, white mist.  Once inside the car she asked Doug, "Who is 'Ronnie Baby'?"

     "You remember Prez Ronnie Reagan.  He used to live in the White House in Washington after his 'Twenty Mule Team Borax' TV commercials.  Death Valley is where he lived on TV and, where Gina's new husband may die if he isn't careful."

     "Doug!  You promised to act nice at Gina’s wedding, and I'm counting on you to do that."

     "The Penguin is marrying her third husband so she forces two hundred people to drive four hours from L.A. for her wedding to Death Valley, to the Sahara of California!  The only thing missing are the camels!  What's she gonna wear for the third sucker: scarlet bloomers?"

     "Behave yourself.”  She nudged him with her arm.

     They drove on Highway 58 across to Barstow where they hooked into U.S. Interstate 15, the main Los Angeles to Las Vegas route, then sped north at eighty miles an hour in the barren desert country on Highway 127 north.

     Liz read the directions:  "Look for a gas station on the left.  Take the first road on the left after the station."

     Doug shook his head.  "I thought this guy was Jewish," he said.  "Isn't a Rabbi going to marry them?"

     "Yes.  Why?"

     “How the hell did Gina convince both a bright Jewish boy and his adoring mother hen to agree to get married in a blast furnace?"

     "They’re both naturalists.  Besides, I told you at the shower that this was a weird group of eggheads.  Doug, this should be a blast!  So, relax.  Enjoy.”

     The temperature hovered around one hundred degrees at noon when Doug and Liz drove past the gas station.  They had been forewarned about dressing for the desert and both had worn jeans, cowboy boots and long sleeve white shirts to go with their "Dodgers" baseball caps to cover up and shield themselves from the desert heat and sun and wind. 

     Doug drove the car a city block past the gas station and turned left on a dirt road.  A home-made sign, blue letters on a piece of cardboard read:  "Wedding party this way.” 

     Cars were parked on both sides of the road and in an open field, which Doug pulled into to park.  A small white stucco house with a red tile roof was sitting in the middle of a sea of people, with two huge open tents in the back. 

     A topless Dune Buggy roared in behind them.  A husky man named Hal told them if they wanted to “fly” a few sand dunes to get in the back seat and strap down, which they did.  Liz knew June, a buxom blonde who rode in the front seat beside Hal.

     "Hang on!” Hal yelled.  "If you want to stand, hold onto the metal roof bar!"  The Dune Buggy roared off into the desert.

     Several minutes later Hal made a circling motion with his right hand.  Liz and Doug stood and grabbed the overhead metal bar right before Hal plowed into a huge sand dune, racing straight up hill on the dune.  The Dune Buggy soared into space, suspended for a moment in an eerie glide before crashing back into the sand on the downhill slope.

     "Wow!" Liz screamed.  "Fantastic!"

     Doug nodded and yelled to Hal, "Try another one!"

     When Hal returned to the house Liz could see inside the two huge open olive-and-beige tents. 

     Gina met them at the first of the large tents and took them inside where a lavish bar and hors d'oeuvres were set up.  She explained that the small house belonged to a professor at college and was being used as the kitchen and rest rooms.  They filled a plate with food, got a drink, and started mingling with the crowd.

     Joan Caldwell came to take Liz by the arm, pulled her aside, and asked, "Do we still have the same deal?"

     Liz grinned as she told Joan they did.  "Doug and I are back together," she added.  "We're very happy."

     Joan stood back to look at Liz.  "Really?  I suppose I should congratulate you, but, like a wedding, you never congratulate the bride, or wife!  Perhaps I should congratulate Doug.”

     "Tell her you slept with me!" Harvey urged when he caught Liz alone.  "How do you expect a good man to build a bad reputation?"

     "You rascal!" she said.

     He smiled.  "Just wishful thinking on my part!"

     Liz did not encourage Harvey.

     "You seem so relaxed.  Poised.  I do want you to promise me that if anything happens between you and Doug, you'll come and visit me on ‘Escape to Work.’”

     "Why should anything happen between Doug and me?” she asked.  “Things are going extremely well."

     He wiggled a finger at her.  "You never know!  And, besides, I always want to know everything about my business partners.  No surprises!  Agreed?"

     "Speaking of surprises, how much did we spend on the office equipment?" Liz asked.

     Harvey shoveled a shrimp into his mouth and mumbled, "Eighteen thousand five hundred, give or take a buck or two."

     "Wow!  That's a lot of money,” Liz declared.

     "Peanuts!  You have to have a classy place to do what you're going to do.  That's why we had to go first cabin with your new office space, with the real wood desks, even the art work, the leather chairs, and the best computers.  Anyway, I got it at cost from one of the office furniture dealerships that Joan owns.  She sure quizzed me about you!    We're going to make a mint!  I'm calling all my friends to tell them we want their business!"

     Gina brought Charlie Harris around for introductions.  He was short and wiry, shy, with hazel eyes and curly black hair.

     "I like him," Liz whispered to Gina.  "But, is he always so quiet?"

     Gina winked.  "Yep!  I got him programmed the way I want him.”    She leaned over to whisper, “I see you’re training, too, keeping Harvey close by just in case you need him.  Smart move, Zingara.  Nothing more comforting than rubbing up against fifty million bucks!"

     "Gina!  What makes you think that?"

     Gina grinned.  "Just watch Doug and Joan Caldwell watching Harvey!"  She wiggled a finger at Liz.  "You're becoming a devious devil, and graduating from my Neanderthal category!  Maybe you're learning, 'Betta'!"  She winked at Liz.

     Liz asked Gina where they were going for their honeymoon.

     "Las Vegas, for a computer show."

     Liz shook her head.  "You're incredible!  Your third husband and you're honeymooning at a computer show?"

                                     #

     Liz and Doug followed the other guests as they crowded into the larger of the two tents for the marriage ceremony.  Gina's older sister served as the Matron of Honor, with her father giving her away.  Charlie’s father served as his Best Man.  A Rabbi stepped out from behind a screen as soft music flooded the tent.  The Rabbi held up his hands and smiled as he said, "Do you believe this locale?"

     The Rabbi conducted the marriage ceremony.  After the glass was broken and the crowd roared, "Mazel tov!" a five piece orchestra played dance music and the wedding rituals began.  A wood dance floor had been laid down on the sand.

     "Admit it!" Liz demanded when she danced the first dance with Doug.  "This is absolutely fabulous!"

     Doug agreed.  He pulled Liz in close and kissed the side of her neck.  "And so are you.  Did I ever tell you that you are one superb piece of Italian skin?"

     Liz didn’t say what she was thinking, that the last time Doug had told her that was at Malibu Beach the day of the shooting.  "Not lately,” she replied. 

     "I love you," he whispered.

     Liz looked up into his eyes.  "I love you too," she said.  "Everything's beautiful!  Wonderful"

     Gina came to get Liz and it didn't take much coaxing for her to sing “Caro nome che” from Rigoletto, then “Volare,” and finally, her trademark song, “Arrivederci Roma,” all in Italian.

     "Why are you crying?" Doug asked as he backed the car out of the open field for the trip home.

     "Girls always cry at weddings," she said. "I thought it was a wonderful day.  Wonderful . . . “

     "I do believe you're potted,” he said.

     Liz grinned.  "I'm just so happy . . . love is so wonderful . . . you are so wonderful."  She leaned over to kiss his cheek.  “Take me home and make wild love to me, like this was our wedding day,” she whimpered.

     “Sesso coming up!” Doug chortled.  "It was one helluva wedding!  One hellacious party!  Never experienced any party like this one."  He glanced over at Liz.  "I never heard you sing ‘Arrivederci Roma’ so sexy!  You looked like you were going to cry."

     Liz nodded.  She thought back to the night she had sung the song on the island of Capri, how turbulent her life had been then, how it was now so serene, so entirely settled now that love had returned to her life.

     "I even kissed the Penguin!" Doug said.  "Right on the lips."

     Liz grinned as she stroked his leg.  "You're mellowing.  You're getting older, accepting things the way they are."

     "Yeah?"  His boxy face swung over to look at her.  "Well, I did disinfect my lips with a double Scotch.  Hey!  I loved that Klezmer music and those Israeli folkdances.  We must have had a hundred people in that last one in three circles.  You’re the musician; tell me about them.”

     Liz tried to recall.  “The first dance was ‘Vidinsko Horo,’ a Bulgarian line dance.  Then one of the circles was ‘Nabrala Je,’ a Croatian Circle Dance.  Not sure about the names of the others.”

     “By the way, what was that one tangy meat hors d’ oeuvre?" Doug asked.

     "That was a baked western diamond back rattlesnake," Liz replied.

     "Rattle--I ate a snake?"

     "Yep!  Did you like the cactus?"

     "Cactus?  I thought those green things were green beans.”

     "Poor Baby!  Good thing you recognized Scotch!  We sure don’t want you getting a tummy-ache tonight, now do we?”  She snuggled close to him, her head on his shoulder, as she closed her eyes.  Life was wonderful.

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