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Show 35 Fogarty looked into his beer, watched the little golden bubbles there, rising. "I may have a problem," he said slowly. "Hoo boy," said Malone delightedly, through his teeth. "Whatever it is, I'll tell you one thing." "Go ahead." "Whatever it is, you're making a big mistake." In the early City evening Fogarty went across the street to have a talk with Sparkle. He found her on her way out of the building, dressed as usual in white shorts and halter top. Tonight the top was a soft evening blue, punctuated by her small nipples, and she had added a pair of white high-heeled shoes which Fogarty had never before seen. Standing with her hands on her hips in the doorway, she looked like an ad for a rock and roll radio station. She'd made up her face, to raise her cheekbones, to deepen her eyes and thicken her lashes, and her long hair showed the sheen of having just been washed. A small leather purse hung by a leather string from her shoulder. "You're off," he said. "Me and my feet," she said. Fogarty kept a straight face. "Jackson stopped by." he said. "Yeah?" She was bubbling with good cheer. "Is he going to fix my toilet?" "He' s going to fix us_, " said Fogarty, testing the waters. He needed her to slow down, show him some attention; after all, she |
