"May I ask you why?"
  	"Why what?"
  	"Why are you getting rid of all that stuff now?"
  	"Because everything's changed for me. That woman I used to be has gone. So are 
all the things she stood for."
  	"They were just films."
  	"They were more than that. They were my memories. And now's the time to let go of 
them. I want to start over with Todd."
  	Jerry drew a deep breath to reply to this, but then thought better of it and kept 
his silence. Katya was acutely aware of every nuance in her immediate locality, however; 
even this.
  	"Say what's on your mind," she said.
  	"It's none of my business."
  	"Say it anyway. Go on."
  	"Well. I just hope you're not relying too much on Todd Pickett. You know he's not 
all that reliable. None of them are, these younger guys. They're all talk."
  	"He's different."
  	"I hope so."
  	"We can't ever know why things happen between two people. But when it feels 
right, you have to go with your instincts."
  	"If he's so right for you, why did he run out on you?"
  	"That was my fault, not his. I showed him some things which were more than he was 
ready to see. I won't make that mistake again. And then he had some woman with him, Tammy 
Somebody-or-Other, who was just trying to steal him away. Do you know her?"
  	"Tammy? No. I don't know a Tammy. Oh wait. I do. I had a call from the police in 
Sacramento. She went missing."
  	"And they called you. Why?"
  	"Because I know Todd. Apparently, this Tammy woman runs his fan-club."
  	Katya started to laugh.
  	"That's all she is to him?" she said.
  	"Apparently."
  	"She runs his fan-club?"
  	"That's my understanding."
  	"So there's no romance between them?"
  	"No. I don't even think they really know one another."
  	"Well, that solves that."
  	"It does and it doesn't," Jerry said cautiously. "She still persuaded him to go 
with her."
  	"Then it's up to me to persuade him to come home," Katya purred. She pressed her 
window button, and kept it down until the window was entirely open. Jerry caught a 
glimpse of her in the mirror. The last of her caution and her fear had evaporated. She 
was luxuriating in the warm wind against her face; eyes closed, hair shining.
  	"How much farther?" she asked him, without opening her eyes.
  	"Another ten minutes."
  	"I can smell the ocean."
  	"Well, we're at Fourth Street. Four blocks over, there's the beach."
  	"I love the sea."
  	"Todd has a yacht, did you know that? It's docked in San Diego."
  	"You see. Perfect." She opened her eyes, catching Jerry's gaze in the mirror, 
demanding a response from him.
  	"Yes, it's perfect," he said.
  	She smiled. "Thank you," she said.
  	"For what?"
  	"For everything. Bringing me here. Listening to me, indulging me. When things 
have settled down and Todd and I have made the Canyon a more civilized place, we're going 
to start inviting people over, just a few special friends, to share the beauty of the 
place. You never saw the house at its best. But you will. It is magnificent."
  	"Oh I'm sure."
  	"And that's how it's going to be again, after tonight."
  	"Magnificent?"
  	"Magnificent."
  
  
  EIGHT
  	This was Tammy's Cinderella moment: her dream come true. All right, perhaps all 
the details weren't perfect. She could have looked a little more glamorous, and she would 
have liked to have lost another twenty-five pounds. And they could have been coming in 
through the front door instead of slipping in at the side to avoid the photographers. But 
she was happy to take what fate was giving her: and fate was giving her a chance to walk 
into an A-list party on the arm of Todd Pickett.
  	Everywhere she looked there were famous faces, famous smiles, famous gazes, 
famous figures swathed in gowns by famous designers, famous fools making jokes that had 
everyone in their circle breathless with laughter, famous power-brokers telling tales of 
how they'd made a million in a minute, and the less famous wives of these power-brokers 
listening with their lids half-closed because if they had a buck for every time they'd 
heard these tired old tales they'd be able to divorce their dead-weights of husbands.
  	And hanging on the arms of the famous (much as she was hanging on Todd's arm) 
were younger men and women who watched their companions with the kind of eyes Tammy was 
reserving for the hors d'oeuvres. There was appetite in those eyes. One day, those gazes 
seem to say, I will have all that you have. I will own cars and yachts and palaces and 
houses. I will have a small vineyard in Tuscany and a large ranch in Big Sky Country. 
There will be no door that will be closed to me; no ear that will not attend to my 
concerns. When I drop my purse, somebody will pick it up for me. When my car is empty of 
gas, it will be miraculously filled (and the ashtrays emptied). If the drink in my hand 
is getting low, it will be replenished without my requesting it. When I am hungry, 
somebody will make food that will be so exquisitely shaped every mouthful is like a 
little meal unto itself.
  	In fact, the food was drawing her attention about as much as the famous faces. 
She'd never seen such exquisite little confections, and each one had a description, 
proffered by its server, much of which was so remote from Tammy's experience she didn't 
understand it. Slices of rare marinated this on slices of smoked that, drizzled with-
  	Oh what the hell? She'd take two. No make that three. It was only finger-food, 
for God's sake, and she was hungry.
  	To wash it all down she'd accepted a Bellini from a dazzling waiter as soon as 
she'd stepped inside, and it tasted so sweet and harmless she downed two-thirds of her 
glass before she realized how potent it was. In truth, however, it would scarcely have 
mattered if she'd downed five Bellinis and fallen flat on her face. She was invisible as 
far as these people were concerned. The glacial beauties and their handsome swains, the 
deal-makers and the word-splitters, none of them wanted to concede her ragged presence in 
their gilded midst: so they simply looked the other way. Once or twice she caught the