Brazen Virtue

take a great deal of time and money, but it’s a chance.”
    “I’m proud of you.” Grace linked hands with her sister. The sun had almost set and the room was in shadows. Grace’s eyes, as gray as the light, heated. “Honey, Jonathan Breezewood the third is in for a surprise when he runs into the McCabes. I’ve got some connections out on the coast.”
    “No, Grace, I have to keep this quiet. Nobody is to know, not even Mom and Dad. I just can’t take the chance.”
    She considered the Breezewoods a moment. Old families, old, wealthy families, had long tentacles. “All right, that’s probably best. I can still help. Lawyers and detectives cost money. I’ve got more than I need.”
    For the second time, Kathleen’s eyes filled. This time she managed to clear them again. She knew Grace had money and didn’t want to resent the fact that she’d earned it. But she did. Oh God, she did. “I have to do this myself.”
    “This isn’t the time for pride. You can’t fight a battle like this on a teacher’s salary. Just because you were an idiot and let Jonathan sweep you out without a penny isn’t any reason to refuse money from me.”

    “I didn’t want anything from Jonathan. I came out of the marriage with exactly what I went into it with. Three thousand dollars.”
    “We won’t get into women’s rights and the fact that you earned something after eight years of marriage.” Grace was an activist if and when it suited her. “The point is I’m your sister, and I want to help.”
    “Not with money. Maybe it is pride, but I have to do this myself. I’m moonlighting.”
    “What—selling Tupperware? Tutoring kids on the Battle of New Orleans? Hooking?”
    With the first good laugh she’d had in weeks, Kathleen poured more wine for both of them. “That’s right.”
    “You’re selling Tupperware?” Grace considered it a moment. “Do they still have those little cereal bowls with the lids?”
    “I have no idea. I’m not selling Tupperware.” She took a long drink. “I’m hooking.”
    As Kathleen got up to turn on the overhead light, Grace picked up her own glass. It was a rare thing for Kathleen to make a joke, so she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. She decided against it. “I thought you said you weren’t interested in sex.”
    “Not for myself, at least not at the moment. I make a dollar a minute for a seven-minute call, ten dollars for the call if it’s a repeater. Most of mine are. I average twenty calls a night, three days a week, plus twenty-five to thirty on weekends. That comes out to roughly nine hundred dollars a week.”
    “Jesus.” Her first thought was that her sister had a hell of a lot more energy than she’d suspected. Her second was that the whole thing was a huge joke to get her to mind her own business.

    In the harsh fluorescent light, Grace stared at her sister. There was nothing in Kathleen’s eyes to indicate she was joking. But Grace recognized that self-satisfied look. It was the same one she’d worn when she’d been twelve and Kathleen had sold five more boxes of Girl Scout cookies than Grace had.
    “Jesus,” she said again and lit another cigarette.
    “No lecture on morality, Gracie?”
    “No.” Grace lifted her wine and swallowed hard. She wasn’t quite sure where she stood on the subject morally, not yet. “It’s going to sink in in a minute. You’re serious?”
    “Perfectly.”
    Of course. Kathleen was always serious. Twenty a night, she thought again, then shook that image away. “No lecture on morality, but you’re about to get one on common sense. Good God, Kathleen, do you know what kind of creeps and maniacs there are out there? Even I know, and I haven’t had a date that wasn’t business oriented in almost six months. And it’s not only a matter of getting pregnant, it’s a matter of catching something you won’t be able to bounce on your knee in nine months. It’s stupid, Kathleen, stupid and dangerous. And you’re going to stop right now or I’ll—”
    “Tell Mom?” Kathleen suggested.
    “This isn’t a joke.” Grace shifted uncomfortably because that had been precisely what had been on the tip of her tongue. “If you won’t think of yourself, think of Kevin. If Jonathan gets wind of this you haven’t a prayer of getting him back.”
    “I am thinking of Kevin. He’s all I do think about now. Drink your wine, Grace, and listen. You always were prone to spin out a story without having all the