Lawrence Sanders - Timothy's game

They sit up with their backs against the headboard, sipping their wine and content to laze away the late Saturday afternoon.

“Did you miss me?” Sam asks.

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t cut your eyes at another woman while I was gone.”

“I might have looked,” Cone admits, “but I didn’t touch.”

“Fair enough,” Sam says. “And what have you been up to at the office?”

“Nothing much. The usual bullshit.”

She turns her head to glare at him. “Come on, asshole, give me a break,” she says. “I’ll read your reports on Monday anyway.”

“Yeah, well, mostly I was working the White Lotus file.”

“Tell me about it.”

He gives her a condensed account of his adventures with Chin, Claire, and Edward Lee, with Johnnie Wong and Henry Wu Yeh, with the United Bamboo and Giant Panda gangs. By the time he finishes, they’ve polished off the wine. Cone refills their glasses. The light is muted now, the apartment mellow with dusk.

“Jesus,” Sam says, “you really get the crapolas, don’t you. Did the Giant Panda baddies ever come after you?”

“Nah. I got a call on Wednesday from Chin Tung Lee. He made a deal with Yeh-bought back Giant Panda’s shares of White Lotus stock at a premium. And Edward is moving to the coast to start his new business.”

“Was Chin happy at how it all turned out?”

“I guess so. He sent me a great big carton of White Lotus products. I’ve got enough Chinese food in the loft to give Cleo slanted eyes.”

“Tim,” she says thoughtfully, “that Claire Lee-was she the one you had the hots for?”

“She’s something. I thought at first she was gold, but she turned out to be tin.”

“But her husband loves her.”

“Everyone’s got problems,” Cone says.

“Yeah? What’s your problem, sonny boy?”

“I’m horny again.”

“Thank God!” Samantha cries.