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  Out in the kitchen, Clea began to tell Zane what she thought of him. She had a nice turn of phrase and the delivery of an auctioneer.

  “Or not,” Sophie said, and the three of them sat on the couch and listened, the dog at their feet with his head cocked, too.

  About ten minutes into Clea’s list of Zane’s offenses, which included theft, adultery, not waiting for Clea to come, preventing her from reestablishing her career, and not providing her with a warm, nurturing environment, Amy said, “This would be better if we had popcorn.”

  Five minutes later, as Zane was explaining that it was Clea’s fault that he’d cheated on her because she was cold and withholding which was not what he expected from his wife because he wanted a warm, nurturing environment, too, Sophie said, “This would be better if we had alcohol.”

  And shortly after that, at the height of the argument, when Zane told Clea that she’d never see her money again if she left him, Amy said, “The hell with the popcorn. Let’s get Sophie’s Mace and take the bastard out.”

  “My mom thinks he’s the coolest,” Rachel said. “Wait’ll I tell her about this.”

  Out in the kitchen, Zane was taking the righteously indignant route. “I can’t believe you thought I’d spend that money. Hell, I’m not that damn Dempsey guy you used to be with, I’m honest.”

  Sophie straightened on the couch, and Amy said, “Easy, girl.”

  “Yeah, well, I should have stayed with him,” Clea said. “He never took anything from me, and he took care of me, too. Only you said you could do it better, remember? And I was such a fool I went for it.”

  Amy said, “See? She’s sorry,” and Sophie relaxed.

  “I’ve taken care of you,” Zane said. “For God’s sake, Clea, you live in one of the biggest houses in Cincinnati.”

  “How is stealing my money keeping me safe?” Clea shrieked at him.

  “Not to mention the weather girl,” Amy said.

  “I didn’t steal it,” Zane said. “I told you, I’ve got it in an offshore account, and it’s going to stay there until I move it, so if you want it, you’re going to stay my wife.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it? You knew I was tired of your crap, so you hid the money so I couldn’t leave.”

  “You’re my wife—”

  “Well, it’s not going to work,” Clea said. “Because my lawyer is going to make you give it up. And I’m selling this farm, too, and Frank says—”

  “Oh, God, not Frank again,” Zane said. “Frank the Great. Frank the Wonderful. Get over high school, Clea, he’s not—”

  “He’s a developer here,” Clea said. “He bought land from my dad before, and he said he’d give me seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the rest of the land around the farmhouse. When I get back what you stole, I’ll have almost three million dollars, and when I send this tape to Leo—”

  “Leo? No wife of mine is going to work for Leo Kingsley.”

  “He seems to be missing something key here,” Sophie said, as Clea said, “Zane, I’m not your wife anymore. We’re over.”

  “Not unless you want to give me half of that three million,” Zane said, and this time there was a long silence from the kitchen.

  “You wouldn’t,” Clea said.

  “The hell I wouldn’t,” Zane said. “If you’d left me before you got the money, you’d sure as hell have taken half of my assets. Well, I get half of yours, too, sweetie.” When Clea didn’t say anything he went on. “Now, there’s nothing to be upset about, I have all the money safe in an offshore account. If we ever need it, it’s just a phone call away.”

  “Prove it,” Clea said. “I want to see a bank book or something. I want—”

  “What good is that going to do you?” Zane said. “God, you know nothing about finance. Trust me.”

  “Oh, please,” Amy said.

  “You need me, Clea,” Zane wheedled on. “You think you can take care of yourself? You never have. There’s always been somebody around to be your daddy. And I’m the best one of the bunch. You think Leo is going to take care of you? The only reason’s he’s even talking to you is because he wants to make Coming Clean Two. You want to do that?”

  Sophie frowned at Amy and said, “Coming Clean Two?”

  Amy shrugged.

  “No, I don’t want that,” Clea said. “But there are other projects I can do with Leo. Sophie’s written some great stuff and she’s going to write more. She—”

  “Sophie couldn’t write for Sesame Street, let alone Leo Kingsley,” Zane said, contempt dripping from his voice. “Hell, look at her, she’s about the least exciting woman we know. She’s so repressed, she’s sexless.”

  Sophie felt herself flush. “Definitely the Mace.”

  “Besides, I told you, my wife does not make movies for Leo Kingsley,” Zane was saying to Clea. “Now you go get packed. I’ll wait for you on the porch, and then we’ll go home together.”

  They heard Clea stomp up the kitchen stairs and then her bedroom door slammed.

  Zane came into the living room, looking mad as hell but triumphant. “Did you get all that?” he asked them, and Amy said, “Pretty much, but we have a few questions. About the weather girl, did—”

  “You can pack up your video shit,” he said. “My wife is not making this damn movie, she’s coming home with me.”

  “Oh, no,” Rachel said, and Sophie said, “We’ll just wait to get the good word from her.”

  Zane shook his head. “My wife does what I tell her to. Someday you’ll understand that.”

  “ ‘And someday you’ll drop dead and I’ll come to your funeral in a red dress,’ ” Sophie said.

  Zane snorted and went out on the porch.

  They heard a car come down the lane, and Rachel got up to look. “It’s the Lutzes.”

  “Nothing but good times ahead,” Amy said, clasping her hands in front of her.

  They sat on the couch and listened to Frank and Georgia fawn over Zane on the porch—“A real celebrity right here in Temptation,” Georgia said over and over—until Rob came in from the porch looking annoyed. “That guy,” he said, and Rachel nodded.

  “We know.” She made room for him on the couch.

  “What a loser,” Rob said as he sat down.

  Sophie waited for him to elaborate, but he seemed to feel he’d said it all. Okay, so Rob wasn’t deep. Looking like that, he didn’t need to be. Except someday he wouldn’t look like that, and then he’d be Frank.

  “You know, Clea might be up there packing,” Amy said, but then Clea came down the stairs in her red-and-white dress, ready to film, and smiled at Rob when she saw him.

  “Well, hello there,” she said, and he leaped from the couch, elbowing Rachel in the process.

  “You look great,” he said.

  “So we’re still making a movie?” Amy said.

  “Well, of course,” Clea said, and went out onto the porch with Rob to torment her husband.

  And more power to her, Sophie thought, loathing Zane more than she ever had in her life.

  An hour later, Sophie was exhausted from watching all the raging egos in the dusty yard. Georgia flirted obnoxiously with Zane (keeping one eye on Frank), while Zane flirted obnoxiously with Rachel (keeping one eye on Clea), while Rachel politely did not tell him he was a jackass. Through it all, an oblivious Frank continued to drool on Clea, who flirted obnoxiously with Rob and kept an eye on everybody else to make sure she was the center of attention. It gave Sophie a headache, but Amy filmed it all with delight, including shots of the now bright red water tower. “It looks like a lipstick with a nipple,” she told Sophie. “Very female.” Sophie looked at Clea and said, “I’ve had enough ‘female’ for a while,” and went back into the house.

  She sat at the kitchen table with the dog at her feet and tried to work on the Phallic Variation, but Zane’s voice kept interrupting her thoughts.

  “She’s sexless,” she heard Zane say again, and she thought, You son of a bitch, I am not sexless. O