She was wearing a lemony sleeveless blouse and tan shorts over her swim suit, and running shoes without socks. She was slender with a pretty face and auburn hair. She’d been a cheerleader in high school. “Remember?”

“Yeah, it’s quiet all right.” Robert punched the numbers on his cellphone, held it to his ear. “Too damned quiet.” He brushed away a fly that landed on his cup. “Didn’t you see CNN?”

“There isn’t a TV in our room.”

“Of course not, not in that room. I meant in the lobby, while I was waiting for you. Jesus, you can’t miss it. Been on full blast since we arrived. That good-for-nothing clerk just sits on his ass and stares at it.”

“No, dear, I didn’t watch the news, and you don’t have to

swear or insult people.” He’s in one of those moods, Nancy decided. Poor Robert. He’d been so charming once, years ago, before he became so obsessed with money. But I shouldn’t complain, she thought. He’d been a good provider. They had a lovely home in the suburbs and two cars — his Buick and her Honda. He’d given her two wonderful children and paid for their education at top colleges. “Did something awful happen? World War Three? A seven-point-two earthquake in Connecticut? Another terrorist...”

“Don’t be ridiculous — I’m talking about the stock market. Down a hundred eighty-six Monday, two hundred and fifty-seven points Tuesday.” His voice rose. “Probably lost four hundred yesterday and the damned Nasdaq’s been in freefall! I’m getting killed!”

“Well, won’t it bounce right back?” She lifted her cup, sniffed the coffee. “Umm. Who’d expect to find such delicious coffee in a tiny place like this?” She was determined to enjoy their vacation.

Yeah, sure.” His snicker indicated how little she knew about the financial world.

It had been a frustrating year for Robert. Despite twenty-seven years of obeisant devotion to the First National Bank of Somerset, and despite heading the profitable Home Loans Division, he’d again been passed over for promotion to branch manager — beaten out, this time, by a much younger woman. “What did she have besides big tits?” he’d wailed. “Wasn’t he vice president of the chamber of commerce, a staunch Republican, a pillar of the community?” And if the bank’s rebuff weren’t

enough, in the past year he’d endured painful hours in the periodontist’s chair. He’d put on ten more pounds, and his hairline — well, he grew the sides longer to comb over the top, and Grecian Formula hid the gray.

“Another cup, Robert?” Nancy asked when the waitress returned. He shook his head. Nancy said to the waitress, “No, gracious, but is this Puerto Rican coffee?”

The woman grinned. She was missing a lower front tooth. “Si, senora, café Yauco.”

“Robert, this coffee’s grown in the hills near that little city we drove through. I read about it in the guidebook.”

He glared at the cellphone. “The market’s crashing, and I can’t talk to my broker.”

Nancy sighed. “Won’t he take
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