Hanging lamely on Egon’s arm I totter towards the arrivals at Kennedy Airport. Behind a grand bouquet of high stemmed roses Alan Cornfield gesticulates his joy to see me.
”Zwettler is in Tokyo. “ He justifies his presence, leaning upon my hand with a kiss.
“This is the reason I allowed myself to welcome you home in his place, Beautiful. I hope you had a pleasant flight. The limo is waiting by the exit.” He gives Egon a slight nod and signals the porter to take care of my luggage.
“Irenchen, do you feel well enough to walk?” Egon asks me anxiously.
I don’t answer, my lips glued together with despair.
Egon and Cornfield exchange startled glances.
Walking corpse, I let me be hauled into Cornfield’s limousine.
I bury my head on Egon’s shoulder. Not good enough for heaven, not bad enough for hell, a penthouse with a view shall be my limbo.
In a hazy distance Cornfield and Egon are dicing with my future on a toppled over gaming table; Egon’s Waldorf Astoria or Cornfield’s golden cage? Which one is worse if none of them is better?
“Give her, at least, a chance on life! Let her decide just for this once without your interference!”
Cornfield’s voice grates on my heart. The clonk of a shutting down golden cage signs Egon’s surrender.
Shipwrecked on a desert penthouse I gulp the champagne with foul taste. Cornfield’s hot breath is pouring over my body. I sneer at my lover’s feelings with Madame du Barry’s airy pose.
“Our encounter was too unexpected. I don’t believe a moment of it!” I recite with panache playing games with my present, putting my future in pawn.
Cornfield’s hungry mouth is grazing my lips. Unless you are Judas a kiss is just a kiss. A song I’d give my soul for vanishes from the screen of my past while Cornfield’s virtuoso fingers are straining at the leash of passion. They wander about my body, fondling it, opening it, impregnating with his passion an alien body, a cardboard replica of the woman he is lusting after. You asked for it! You got it, Irenchen! Sex devoid of love. Naked sex. A porn!
And what if the door suddenly flied open and my lawful husband appeared before the adulterous couple, a gun in his hand, rightful wrath in his heart? Bang, bang, you’re dead! I burst into hysterical laughter. A slippery eel, I glide away from under my lover’s luscious body, uncoupling from mine in a stunned misbelieve.
When I come back from the bathroom I find Alan fully dressed a glass of whiskey in his manicured hand.
“May I offer you a drink, Beautiful?” He asks, poker-faced.
“Yes, please!” I accept with a lofty smile, charming my repulsion away. Comfort comes first. There is no sense in being disobliging to Alan.
“May I have the pleasure of dining with you tonight?” He asks, counting his losses. I accept with a snake charmer’s smile.