Don't Call on Me

The telephone range four times before someone answered it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, may I speak to Micky?"

"Hey Rachel, it's me."

"Hi, Micky—I have some bad news."

"What?"

"I'm afraid that I can't see you for a little while."

"Why not?"

"Because I just want to make completely sure that you're not using me to get back at Gianna."

"Rachel, I—"

"If you're being true to me, Micky, it won't take too long for me to figure that out."

Micky sighed and hung up the phone.

Lael stopped pouting. "Hey, what's the bill up to now?"

"Oh, I'm not sure—how many months has it been now?"

"Either seven or twelve."

"You're between a year and under?"

"Sorry," Lael said.

Rachel picked up the phone and asked for the front desk.

"Hello?"

"Hello, I'd like to know the tab for room 303."

"Well, one occupant for eight months, plus room service and other extras come to . . . a little over twelve thousand dollars." The deskman let out a low whistle.

Rachel winced. "Thank you." She hung up the telephone.

"Well?" asked Lael impatiently.

"Well, it's up to twelve thousand dollars."

"Whoa. What are you going to do about it?"

Before Rachel could ask, "What am I going to do about it? What are we going to do about it?", there was a knock at the door.

"Come in." Worthless locks.

"Hi, Rachel," said Autumn. "Did I just hear someone say twelve thousand dollars?"

"Are the walls to this room as thin as they look?"

"No, but having a glass to the wall helps. Were you talking money?"

"Yes, and lots of it."

"When you stay in a hotel for eight months, it's gonna cost you a pretty penny. Twelve thousand, right?"

"Yeah."

Autumn pulled out her checkbook, made out a check and handed it to Rachel. "Here."

Rachel stared at the check. "Fourteen thousand dollars?! But I only need twelve."

"I know, but what's money good for, anyway?"

"Another month, that's what," said Lael, looking over Rachel's shoulder at the check. "Take it, dummy."

"Thank you, Autumn."

"Any time. Just keep pandering to the insipid—someday they may give back."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, how so?" demanded Lael.

"'The audience is vulgar and stupid, you've got to pander to them'—Herman Wouk."

Don't Call on Me Part Four

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