Read Online Free Book

A Good Little Girl Like You (A Sample)

Page 68

The Wizard of Oz? Now she was such a language expert that

she didn't need a translator in Russia. O.E. took a few

seconds to find a suitable response. "Say something in

Russian."

"All right." Rebecca rattled off a Russian poem. When

she finished, she explained it to him. "That was 'Rain Flogs

My Face. . .' by Bella Akhmadulina-a poem about the

uncertainties of a new relationship. I thought it would be

appropriate."

"How un-Russian."

"What? You thought they only wrote about war, snow,

and vodka? They lust for each other plenty."

O.E. chuckled. "Your meeting. . . old dumpy guys, or

young blades? Any women?"

"Old and dumpy for the most part. All male, too."

"Horny toads?"

"Mostly not. Occasionally I get an obscure Russian

idiom for sex, followed by laughter. I'm familiar with most

of their euphemisms by now, so I can sling it back at them.

But I have to tell you that I don't need to go to Russia for

sexual abuse-I get it right here at home. I see it at my

current job. Also, the CEO at my first company did a major

number on me. All right here in the city."

"CEO. . . The manipulative jerk you mentioned? Tell

me."

Rebecca groaned. "I don't know if I want to go there,

O.E. It's a pretty sensitive thing with me. I'll tell you about it

someday. . . Maybe." She paused, and O.E. could tell she was

reliving something unpleasant. "Come to think of it, maybe

not. Forget about it."

That must have been bad. Rebecca didn't seem like the

type to avoid a discussion, so if she didn't want to talk, it

must have been pretty grisly. O.E. wasn't going to forget

about this, but he decided to drop it for now.

The conversation wound down and they made their

goodbyes, bon voyages, and best wishes. At the very last

minute, just before she hung up and almost like an

afterthought on her part, Rebecca promised to come by

Sunday evening and bring dinner. Then she was gone.

Oh my God, she likes me. She had actually made a date

with him. O.E. was tingling all over. He fist pumped the air

and gave thanks for his second chance with Rebecca. By

talking less, he had won her back again. He couldn't wait

until Sunday night.

Kay Samson might be right: he really should shut up.

PrevPage ListNext