Sex and the City - Page 59

It was Samantha Jones.

Two minutes later, his doorbell rang.

“Sam,” Skipper said. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Oh, please, Skipper. Stop with the juvenilities. I was wondering if I could borrow some shampoo,” she said.

“Shampoo? How about a drink?” Skipper asked.

“A small one,” Sam said. “And don’t get any funny ideas. Like putting Ecstasy in it or anything.”

“Ecstasy? I don’t even do drugs. I’ve never even done coke, I swear. Wow. I can’t believe you’re in my apartment.”

“I can’t either,” Sam said. She began walking around the living room. Touching things. “You know, I’m not quite as organized as everyone thinks.”

“Why don’t you take off your coat?” Skipper said. “Sit down. Do you want to have sex?”

“I really want to wash my hair,” Sam said.

“You can wash it here,” Skipper said. “After.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Who was that man you were kissing in the cab?” Skipper asked.

“Just another man I either don’t want or can’t have,” Samantha said. “Like you.”

“But you can have me,” Skipper said. “I’m available.”

“Exactly,” Sam said.

YOU’RE SO NAUGHTY

“Cheri,” said a man’s voice from the living room. “I’m so glad you come to see me.”

“You know I always come to see you,” said the Bone.

“Come here. I have some presents for you.”

The Bone checked himself in the mirror in the marble foyer, then went into the living room. A middle-aged man was sitting on the couch, sipping tea, tapping his Italian-slippered foot against the coffee table.

“Come to me. Let me see you. See how you’ve aged in the past two months. No sun damage from our time in the Aegean?”

“You haven’t aged at all,” said the Bone. “You always look young. What’s your secret?”

“That wonderful face cream you gave me,” said the man. “What was it again?”

“Kiehl’s.” The Bone sat on the edge of a bergère.

“You must bring me some more,” the man said. “Do you still have the watch?”

“The watch?” the Bone said. “Oh, I gave that to some homeless man. He kept asking me what time it was, so I figured he needed it.”

“Oh! You’re so naughty,” the man said. “Teasing me like that.”

“Would I ever give away anything you gave me?”

“No,” the man said. “Now look at what I brought you. Cashmere sweaters in every color. You’ll try them on?”

Tags: Candace Bushnell Fiction
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