23
I called Heather’s private line. “I have a letter from Dar, signed Brother Aden, and I am just so mad I can barely speak.”
“Oh dear, stay calm and we can talk about it over a drink. Can it wait until about 6:45 at the usual? Is there anything else?” I had sipped at a Perrier and had not the foggiest notion of how to placate myself. I nodded to the barman and got up to plant a peck on Heather’s cheek. “Brother Aden, my foot! I would do anything for my brother, but this is ridiculous.” Heather took a sip of her wine as she waited for me to get it out.
“I could not bring myself to go. How on earth could he expect me to sit through something like that? Now I receive this loving, and I think, very self-serving letter. Christ Heather, I could strangle him!”
“Don’t worry Alkina, I can see.
