Gold Coast

The phone rang again and it was Je

Later I heard a knock on my bedroom door and she entered. I said to her, "If you like me, why were you so bitchy to me?"

"That's my way."

She took off her shoes, but not her red fuck-me dress, and crawled into bed beside me. What a tease. I wanted to kiss her but I was concerned about the anchovies and garlic on my breath.

I'm not sure what happened next, but when I woke up again before dawn, she was gone. Actually, I doubt she was ever there.

CHAPTER 30

The next morning while having coffee in the suite, I called a few select newspaper people whose names Bellarosa had given me. The story I put out was this: Frank Bellarosa wants a speedy trial within the next month, and any delay on the part of the U.S. Attorney's office would be construed as justice denied. Mr Bellarosa is i

"I'll be in the city for a few days and I wanted you to know."

"All right."

"Thank you for packing my bag."

"Think nothing of it," she said.

"Thank you just the same." When husbands and wives get on this frigid roll, you'd think they were total strangers, and they are.

Susan asked, "Did you see my note?"

"Note…? Oh, yes, I did."

"John…?"

"Yes?"

"We really have to talk about it."

"The note?"

"About us."

"Not us, Susan. About you."

She didn't reply for a few seconds, then asked, "What about me? What is really bothering you about me?"

I took a deep breath and said, "Did you call me last night? Did we speak?"

"No."

"Well, then, it was a dream. But it was a very realistic dream, Susan. Actually it was my subconscious mind trying to tell me something. Something I've known for some time, but couldn't come to grips with. Has that ever happened to you in a dream?"

"Maybe."

"Well, in my dream I realized that you were having an affair with Frank Bellarosa."

There, I said it. Well, sort of. She didn't reply for a few seconds, then asked, "Is that why you're in a bad mood? You dreamed that I was having an affair with Frank?"

"I think it was more than a dream. It was a nocturnal revelation. That's what's been bothering me for months, Susan, and it's what has come between us." Again there was a long silence, then she said, "If you suspected something, you should have come to grips with it, John. Instead, you've become withdrawn. You've indulged yourself in playing Mafia mouthpiece and telling off all your friends and family. Maybe what's happened to us is as much your fault as mine." "No doubt about it."

Again, silence, because neither of us wanted to return to the issue of adultery.

But having come this far, I said, "So? Yes or no? Tell me."

She replied, "You had a silly dream."

"All right, Susan. If that's what you say, I will accept that because you've never lied to me."

"John… we have to talk about this… in person. There's probably a lot we've been keeping from each other. You know I would never do anything to hurt you… I'm sorry if you've been upset these last few months… you're a very unique man, a very special man. I realize that now. And I don't want to lose you. I love you." Well, that was about as mushy as Susan ever got, and while it wasn't a full confession of marital infidelity, it was something very like it, sort of like plea bargaining. I was pretty shaky, to be honest with you, and I found myself sitting on the bed in my room, my heart pounding and my mouth dry. If you've ever confronted your spouse with charges of sexual misconduct, you know the feeling. I finally said, "All right. We'll talk when I get back." I hung up and stared at the telephone, waiting, I guess, for it to ring, but it didn't. You have to understand that prior to that day in court and the subsequent media exposure, I wasn't ready to confront this other issue of Susan and Frank. But now, having put my old life behind me forever, and now that I felt good about myself, I was prepared to hear my wife tell me she had been sexually involved with Frank Bellarosa. What's more, I still loved her, and I was prepared to forgive her and start over again, because in a ma

So, lacking a confession from Susan, I had to remain in that limbo state of the husband who knows but doesn't know, who can't ask for a divorce or offer to forgive, and who has to deal with the parties as if nothing were going on, lest he make a complete fool of himself.

Or maybe I could just ask Frank, "Hey, goombah, you fucking my wife, or what?" Later that morning, Bellarosa and I met Le

So I drank a lot of coffee and read all the morning papers and watched some old geezers playing a card game that I couldn't follow.

After an hour or so in the club, we left and got back into the car. Though there was a layer of clouds blocking the sun, the morning was getting hot, an urban heat produced by cars and people and yesterday's sun still trapped in the concrete. Country squires can tolerate only about a week in Manhattan in the summer, and I hoped we wouldn't be much longer in the city, but with this guy you didn't ask questions about times and places.

We made a stop at Ferrara's, where Bellarosa picked out a dozen pastries for A