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think plastic sounds more like ‘Scrape, scrape,’ ” I said.
    â€œNot if you listen with a romantic ear,” she said.
    â€œWhich you do,” I said.
    â€œTo everything, darlin’.”
    I smiled. She smiled. She drank her champagne. I took another small nibble at mine. She gazed dreamily around the room. I waited. She looked at my gun, lying in its holster on the bedside table.
    â€œOh,” she said. “A gun.”
    â€œWhy, so it is.”
    â€œCan I look at it?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œCan I pick it up?”
    â€œNo.”
    She put her glass out. I refilled it.
    â€œDid you have that with you the other night when Pud was being dreadful?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œSo you could have shot him if you wanted.”
    â€œSeems a little extreme,” I said.
    â€œYou handled him like he was a bad little boy,” SueSue said.
    She drank some more champagne, looking at me while she drank, her eyes big and blue and full of energy. It was too soon for the champagne to kick in. It was some other kind of energy.
    â€œJust doing my job, ma’am.”
    She smiled widely. And what I’d seen in her eyes, I saw in her smile.
    â€œPud played football over at Alabama. Even had a pro tryout.”
    â€œLinebacker?” I said.
    â€œI don’t know who the pro team was. I hate football.”
    â€œWhat position did he play?” I said.
    â€œDefense.”
    I nodded.
    â€œHe still goes to the gym all the time. But you just turned him around like he was a little bitty boy.”
    â€œBreathtaking, isn’t it?” I said.
    â€œYou’re a dangerous man,” she said, and put her glass out. I poured.
    â€œEspecially to fried clams,” I said. “You put a plate of fried clams in front of me, they’re gone in a heartbeat.”
    â€œI could see that you were dangerous,” she said, “minute you came into the room.”
    The champagne was beginning to affect her speech a little. Her articles were slurring, or she was skipping right over them.
    â€œI think even Pud could see it, but he was too drunk to be smart about it. What would you have done if he’d come back at you?”
    â€œYou kind of have to be in the moment,” I said, “to know what you’d do.”
    â€œYou’d have hurt him,” SueSue said. “I saw it in your eyes.”
    â€œI take no pleasure in hurting someone.”
    â€œI know men, darlin’. Everybody else in my damn family knows horses. But I know men. You like to fight.”
    â€œEverybody needs a hobby,” I said.
    â€œYou like to fuck too?”
    â€œWow,” I said. “You do know men.”
    A little vertical frown line indented her perfect tan for a moment, between her perfect eyebrows, and went right away.
    â€œLotta men don’t like it. They all pretend they like it, but they don’t. Some of them don’t want to, or they can’t ’cause they a little teensy bit drunk, or they scared of a woman who wants to.”
    â€œAnd you’re a woman who wants to.”
    â€œI like it. I like it with big men. I’d like to see how many muscles you got and where.”
    â€œLots,” I said. “Everywhere.”
    â€œI need to see for myself, darlin’.”
    â€œThat’ll be a problem.”
    â€œYou aren’t even drinking your champagne,” she said. “If you don’t like champagne, I got something more serious.”
    â€œNo need,” I said.
    But SueSue wasn’t all that interested in my needs.
    â€œYou married?” Sue said.
    â€œSort of.”
    â€œYou don’t wear a wedding band.”
    â€œI’m not exactly married.”
    â€œHow can you be not exactly married?” she said. “You mean you got a girlfriend.”
    â€œMore than that,” I said.
    â€œGood Lord, you’re not gay, are you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œWell, whatever it is, you being