The City of Your Final Destination by Peter Cameron

She paused for a moment. “I’d like to know why you’ve come,” she said. “I’m sorry to be rude. It’s just that it’s odd to have you here and not really know. Are you really here to try to change our minds?”
    â€œYes,” said Omar.
    â€œWhy?” asked Arden.
    â€œBecause I need to,” said Omar. “I want to write a biography of Jules Gund. And I can’t write the book without your authorization.”
    â€œBut of course you can. People write unauthorized biographies all the time.”
    â€œWell, yes,” said Omar. “Theoretically, I could. But you see, it’s complicated. It involves a fellowship, and the university press, and they won’t give me the money or publish the book unless it’s authorized.”
    â€œOh,” said Arden. “That is a problem. No wonder you’re here.”
    â€œI’m sorry to be trouble,” said Omar.
    â€œYou’re not trouble,” said Arden. “I’m just sorry you’ve come all
this way. Because you won’t change our minds. I’m afraid our minds are well set.”
    It was Omar’s turn to say “Oh.”
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œI think I could write a very good biography. And I’d like to work closely with you, and respect your wishes. That’s what I wanted to tell you all. I understand that things are complicated, and I’d be willing to be, well, tactful, you know, or silent, as you wanted.”
    â€œOh, no,” said Arden. “It isn’t out of a wish to censor or silence that we’re withholding authorization. You mustn’t think that. That’s not it at all.”
    â€œThen why?” asked Omar.
    â€œI’m really not at liberty to say,” said Arden. “I’m sorry to be so vague, but you must take my word for it. You’d be wasting your time if you thought you could change our minds. And I just don’t want to see you wasting your time.”
    â€œBut I’ve come all this way,” said Omar. “Can’t I at least talk to you all?”
    â€œOh, of course,” said Arden. “I won’t prevent you from doing that. Caroline will be joining us for dinner. And you can see Adam, tomorrow, perhaps. He lives quite close by.”
    â€œAnd do you all feel the same?”
    â€œI suppose not, since we’re all different people. Quite different people, as you’ll see. But our decision is mutual, if not our reasons.”
    â€œOh,” said Omar.
    â€œI’m sorry to bring bad news. I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up, now that you’re here. I thought you deserved to know what the situation is.”
    â€œYes,” said Omar. “Thank you.”
    â€œI’ll let you finish dressing. I’m sorry to have barged in on you like this.”

    â€œNo,” said Omar. “I appreciate your talking to me. It’s kind of you. You’re different from what I expected. Much different.”
    â€œHow?” asked Arden.
    â€œYounger. I guess I supposed all executors were ancient and intimidating.”
    â€œOh, I hope I’m not that,” said Arden. She thought, I mustn’t let him flirt with me.
    â€œAnd you’re beautiful,” said Omar. “I didn’t think executors would be beautiful.”
    â€œSo your strategy is to flatter us all?” asked Arden.
    â€œOh, I’m too stupid to have a strategy,” said Omar. “If I had a strategy, I wouldn’t be here in the first place.”
    Omar finished dressing, but it was still too early to go to dinner. He stood by the window and looked down through a chink in the shutter. He could see a clothesline on which was hung what seemed to be an inordinate amount of women’s intimate apparel. Brassieres and panties fluttered radiantly in the twilight. Omar quickly closed the shutter. In a little while he would have to go down there and have dinner with