Summer on the Cape by J.M. Bronston Page A

smoothed his jacket into place and made sure his gold cuff links were pulled just clear of his sleeve. “She’s a dragon to do business with, but she certainly does bring in the paying clients.”
    Allie laughed mirthlessly. She’d had one encounter with Leslie Smucker, and she wasn’t looking forward to future ones. She remembered the fierce personality, black hair flying out of control around a dead white face, bright red lipstick, sharp red fingernails. “I don’t know how you manage her,” she said. “She frightens the hell out of me.”
    “Me too. After an hour with her, I feel I should check to be sure I still have all my vital organs.”
    “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle these business types.” She paused to take one quick look at herself in the mirror and brushed her rebellious bangs back from her forehead. “I never understand what they’re talking about and they never seem to understand what I’m talking about.”
    “That’s because you’re an artist, my dear. And that’s why artists have agents.” He led her through the foyer to the elevator. “I depend on artists never knowing how to talk to business types. That’s just fine. As long as the artists go on painting pictures and people with money want to buy them, folks like me will be happy to help them get together. And we’ll be happy to take some of that nice money as it changes hands.”
    Allie knew he was right. And she knew that he’d been much more than an agent to her. He’d been a substitute father, mother, and guardian angel, and he tolerated her stubbornness with marvelous good humor. As headstrong as she was, Allie always, finally, knew enough to listen to Adam’s sound advice and to benefit from his enormous experience. Whatever his schemes were, they’d always turned out well for her.
    They had reached the lobby of the building and went outside into the hot summer night where even the sidewalk seemed to be steaming. Marcus was waiting at the curb to hold the car’s door open for them. Allie slipped into the air-conditioned interior and smoothed her silk dress into place, while Adam walked around the back of the car and got in from the other side. Then, as the big car turned out of 52nd Street and glided up First Avenue, Adam opened the bar that was set into the console in front of them.
    “Another sherry?”
    “No, thanks.” There’d been a time, when she was younger, that Allie got a kick out of all this luxury. Now it was beginning to seem excessively self-indulgent. Not that it wasn’t fun, of course. But she was getting old enough to not take it all too seriously. “We have things to talk about and I want to keep my head clear. You’re tough enough, Adam, without my getting all fuzzy and making it easy for you.”
    Adam smiled at her comment as he poured a scotch for himself and splashed some soda into it.
    “Ah, you misjudge me, my dear.” His tone was only partly playful. “I have no intention that you be fuzzy. Quite the contrary. For our little discussion tonight, I need you to be quite clear-headed.”
    “Come off it, Adam. I know you. For what we need to talk about, you could have had me come directly from the airport, jeans and all.” She turned squarely on the deep leather seat and faced him directly. “So why did I have to get all dressed up in my good green silk dress, and why are we going to the Silver Dove?” Then, as though she’d just had a brilliant insight, she added, “Unless you’re just interested in seeing to it that I get a good meal. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re always complaining that I don’t eat right.”
    “Well, that’s certainly true, Allie. I’ve never known anyone with worse eating habits than you have. How you stay alive is beyond me.”
    Allie pouted as she sat back in the seat again. “I’m not as bad as all that. It’s just that I get busy with what I’m working on, and I forget.”
    “Exactly. You’ve been hard at work for weeks now, and