She'd woken above a rounded view of the city. Gliding her fingers past the bedside panel, she'd ordered the twenty-foot cream curtains to recede, waking to peaceful sunlight in his epitome of luxury.Removers had brought her essential stuff to his penthouse. His armada of suits occupied only twenty percent of his vast closet space. She was still emptying her boxes, finding homes for clothes and treasured personal possessions. She'd stopped asking his opinion. He was easygoing about her invasion of his space.She'd kept a foot in both camps. Should his four-bedroom penthouse shrink, her one-floor walk-up with high ceilings awaited her. Her newfound relationship conflicted with her cherished independence. She hadn't resolved her puzzle yet, but retreat remained a valid option.Carrying her heels, she descended the floating glass stairs. The glass sidewall permitted an unobstructed view of the vast open-plan apartment. Couches gathered near the floor-to-ceiling glass appeared tiny. The dark. I wasn't much of a drinker but the drinks the night before seemed to go down like water. Now I had huge hangover."I'm sick," I said to Bev. "I can't go anywhere." Your not sick," she said. "I've got just what you need to get you going."She handed me a large glass that appeared to be tomato juice. My mouth was extremely dry and my body felt dehydrated. Something cold and wet was appealing. I took several big gulps before I realized it was laced with booze."That's a Bloody Mary," Bev exclaimed. "The Hair of the Dog as Bob calls it. It should give your body some equilibrium." She laughed at her statement because she knew she didn't know what the hell she was talking about.Surprisingly it did make me feel better. Bev had ordered a whole pitcher of the drink and I had another as I showered, dressed, preparing for a day on the town.Was I ever surprised when I walked out of the bathroom. There stood Bev, fully dressed, or sort of dressed, because the skimpy outfit she was wearing didn't.
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