Sapphire and Shadow (A Woman's Life) by Marie Ferrarella Page A

a place in my will. Now c’mon.”
    Arlene took Johanna by the hand and led her across the floor. Johanna turned to see Harry pocket something someone had just handed him and then walk quickly toward the bathroom. Her heart sank.
    “All right, Arlene, you win. Let’s find me a dance partner. “
    Arlene had seen Harry as well. “Atta girl.” She grinned triumphantly.

Chapter Ten

    Johanna wasn’t wrong.
    She wished she was, but it was very evident to her that she wasn’t. Harry had scored some cocaine and had snorted it in the men’s room. Even if she hadn’t overheard two men talking about it later that evening, laughing about how pathetically anxious Harry had been to inhale the white powder, she would have seen it in his frenzied behavior. As did everyone else. She felt embarrassed for him, humiliated for herself. Wasn’t he ever going to learn? Wasn’t he ever going to come to his senses?
    She knew in her heart what the answer to that was.
    His behavior, his gestures, were more erratic, more frantic than ever. Supposedly, according to articles that she had read recently, including a well-researched piece in a national magazine with an astronomical readership, cocaine was on the outs. It was no longer popular nor glamorous to be taking it, either as part of a group activity or alone. Johanna knew that to be a myth. The fact was, she thought dismally, that the drug was still available, that there were still people hooked on it. It was still being done on a daily basis by a lot of people; they were no longer as blatant about it, that was all. Except for Harry. Harry acted as if he could do anything, as if he thought that no one suspected his “secret.”
    She saw Alicia Martin smirk and cast her a pitying glance. Harry was a joke to her, an amusing monkey with which to entertain her guests. Johanna was torn between wanting to flee and scratching the woman’s eyes out. She did neither. She stood her ground and held her head up high. Harry’s emotional shortcomings were not going spill out and soil her or Jocelyn. She wouldn’t let them. In that, she knew she was stronger than Harry. She could find the will to rise above this. Harry couldn’t. He had no chance to break free. There was always someone to get him a hit and no one to wag a reproving finger at him. Except for her. And that made her an ogre in his eyes.
    Johanna watched as he poured himself over a woman she didn’t recognize. The woman was more than receptive to his blatant overtures. Johanna watched with eyes filled with anger, for Harry, for the woman, for the industry that had made him this way and for herself for staying. The pitying glances from the other women at the party hurt her pride more than watching Harry act the flirtatious lover in search of a willing partner. She wondered why. Maybe because she was finally numb inside. She wasn’t sure.
    She missed Paul. He would have kept Harry from making a total spectacle of himself. Paul would have managed to do that for her. But Paul was gone and Harry was out of control. There was absolutely nothing she could do. To try to coax him away from the starlet he was devouring with his eyes would have just made her look like a fool and she couldn’t bear that. Besides, it would have accomplished nothing.
    As the long evening wore on, Johanna mingled, talked, and predominantly, endured.
    Finally, mercifully, the party began to break up and it was time to leave. Harry made rounds and bid everyone good night by name, so far gone that he didn’t know people were laughing at him and the comical figure he now cut. He didn’t know, but Johanna did. It cut pieces out of her soul. She led him outside, holding onto his arm to keep him from falling over his own feet.
    “I’ll drive,” Harry announced when the valet brought their leased Mercedes.
    The control she fought all night to maintain finally broke. “The hell you will. Get in on the passenger side, Harry. I’ll drive.”
    Sweeping passed him, she