Distant Shores

She waved to the crowd, then ran a hand through her chopped blond hair. "Hey, New York," she said, grinning, "howd you like my movie?"

The audience went wild.

"Who wanted to try kissing my character to wake her up?"

More applause. For the next thirty minutes, Jack watched her seduce a room full of strangers. By the end, they were eating out of her hand. There was something in her luminous black eyes that made every man--including Jack--think shed singled him out, that her smile meant something.

"Well, guys," she said, lowering her voice to a sexy, disappointed purr, "Ive got to run now. Theyve scheduled me for a few more things tonight. Ciao. "

And she was gone.

The director came back onstage. Jack couldnt hold back a groan. The last thing he wanted to do was listen to Mr. Generation-X wax poetic about art in a chick flick. He left the theate

r. There was an after-premiere party scheduled at a nearby restaurant. Hed go, have a drink, then head home.

He was the first one to arrive at the restaurant. A guard at the door asked for his invitation, looked it over, then nodded. "Go on in. "

Jack walked past an open-air, stainless-steel kitchen where chefs in white hats were working their magic. The tables were empty now; waiters in tuxedos stood around, waiting for the party to start.

He walked up to the bar, ordered a Dewars on the rocks.

Someone came up beside him. "Hey, Jack. I see you got my invitation. "

He turned, and there was Thea, smiling at him. "You put me on the guest list?"

"I needed something to look forward to at this grinfest. So, wheres your handler?"

"Sally?" He laughed. "Shes running down facts for an upcoming show. She wanted to see your movie, too. It was . . . good, by the way. "

She smiled, a little too brightly to be real. "I hope so. My last one bombed so fast I saw it on the airplane on the way to the premiere. I need a hit. " As if she realized what shed just revealed, she laughed easily and took a sip of her cosmopolitan.

In the other room, a band started to play. Soft, romantic mood music that no one would be able to hear when the crowd hit.

"Dance with me," she said, putting her glass down on the bar.

"Thea . . . " His mouth was so dry he couldnt manage more. He understood suddenly why a man lost at sea would finally drink the ocean water.

She snuggled closer, slipped her arms around his neck.

They stood eye to eye. She moved slowly, seductively. He couldnt help himself; his arms curled around her. He frowned, noticing how thin she was. Bony, even.

It was the first time in more than a dozen years that hed held another woman, and it reminded him of his old life. Images of other women tumbled through his mind, memories of long, hot, wet nights spent in hotel beds.

And of the night it had come to an end.

Hed been at Tavern on the Green with a woman he couldnt now remember. Another pretty blonde. It had been one of those flawless late spring days in New York; the smog and humidity of summer hadnt yet arrived.

Theyd been outside, dancing cheek-to-cheek beneath the light of a hundred Chinese silk lanterns. The band had been playing "My Romance. " That, he wouldnt forget.

Jack had heard a sound, something out of place. Hed turned, and there was Birdie, standing on the edge of the grass with her handbag clutched to her chest and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Before he could get through the crowd, she was gone. When hed gotten home that night the house was empty. Shed taken the children to a hotel.

There was no note. Instead, on their big king-size bed, Birdie had left an open suitcase beside a framed picture of their family.

Her point had been obvious: Choose.

Hed stared at the open suitcase forever.