Three snippets I should say! From Black Poodle Over Seven Hills:
Her new apartment, seen for the first time in the evening, already had a cozy feel to it. The landlord left and she and Timothy stood in the middle of the hardwood floor.
“The walls are pink,” he commented in a flat voice.
“Remember my Rochester apartment was white square walls.”
“Yes, but they’re pink.”
“Light wedding-mint pink.”
“Better than Pepto Bismol pink, I suppose.”
“Pink is a comforting color. Everyone knows that.”
“It’s a girl-tower color.”
“Yeah. It’s designed to produce man-guilt. It’s a ‘Get your mind out of the gutter, you swine,’ kind of color.”
“And is your mind in the gutter?”
“How’s about I bring that rug in?” he asked, wagging his eyebrows.
“Only if I can bring out my new pink comforter, with the tiny rosebuds on it.”
“I give up.”
“Let’s go to my hotel and get the rest of my stuff, then. Do you see this nice big closet here, Timothy? I could put a small desk in and use it like an extra.”
“Oh, come on, then. I can tell that you’re not going to get the decorating bug.”
“Not with pink walls. Cato can’t work with pink.”
She waited until 10:00 to call Timothy.
“Marsh,” he said, with simplicity.
“I guess I’ll answer to that.”
“May as well.”
“How’re you doin’, Brett?”
She scratched the top of her head. What good would it do for poor Timothy to know about this? It would just exasperate him. There was nothing anyone could do, anyway.
“Brett? You still there?”
“Timothy, I won’t be answering this phone any more. I’m turning it off until Monday, when I want to get the number changed.”
“Hoo boy! Let me guess. That oozing slug Weston somehow got your number out of somebody, and called you.”
Her mouth fell open.
“How did you…”
“I figured he’d try something like that. He couldn’t locate you, so he had to try something else. You had a previous life in Rochester, Soubrette, and lot’s of people who knew you. You didn’t cover your tracks well enough.”
“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.
“Just tell me that you didn’t indulge the creep,” he went on. “You didn’t talk to him, right?”
His voice was leaden when he answered her.
“Just tell me what he said.”
“All of the worst kind of stuff. And I said stuff, too. Paraphrased, I told him to go… well, I told him that I wasn’t giving him anything. Restraining orders and police were all he was going to get from me.”
“That’s what you said?”
“Something like it. I called him names.”
“Let’s hear these names.”
“I told him his brain was so thick that diesel trucks couldn’t drive through it,” she said, sure that he’d be impressed at her passion. “I called him an idiot.”
“Someone put the world spinning back on its axis,” he said. “What else?”
“He said he’d get a lawyer and show him a letter supposedly typed by my mother from her old typewriter giving him the bulk of everything. He said that I was going to get in trouble for spending any of the inheritance money, which he suspected that I had some of, and that he felt that he got me to admit to. He said that he’d visited my mother many times like a devoted lap dog until she loved him like the son she never had and was sure that he ought to take care of the estate and me too,” she ran on in a jumble. “Well, I may have added a few things. But you would have been proud of me, Timothy. I told him calmly to do what he wanted but I would fight him every step of the way. I was really calm.”
“And he was?”
“He got incensed.”
“Incensed. You mean like that smelly smoke?”
“Yes! That’s right! Exactly like that. He went up in smoke and turned to ash.”
“And then he was really awful. He said…” the sick in her stomach came back.
She heard him sigh on the other end of the line. And then there was a small tone in her ear, which made her heart jump in alarm. She had been on the phone for just a few minutes, and Weston was already calling into the line. He must have been calling in regular intervals.
“Yes?” she whispered, hearing the dreaded tone indicating that the other call was still ringing.
“I’m coming over.”
The bed felt so good. At home she was still sleeping on her comforter on the floor. She made a snow angel and curled onto her side. Then she remembered that she was hungry. She dug out the room service menu. She ordered a meal and spent fifteen more dollars. Then with a sigh she found out what movies she could rent on the television set. She pulled out her phone.
‘Girl happy in luxury hotel,’ she sent in a message to Timothy. ‘Where are you?’
‘At my parent’s house, and I’ve already finagled sleeping over. Said I missed my mom’s pancakes and wanted to sleep in my old room. Went over great. Little sister has me watching SpongeBob. Thanks a lot.’ he sent back a short while later. She grinned.
‘It’s about time you spent more time with your family, you cad,’ she texted. ‘I’m going to have a long bubble bath.’
‘Another torturous visual, Gigi,’ he sent back.
‘Eat your heart out, Cato.’