“And I don't get a kick out of prancing around, a stuffed shirt among fellow stuffed shirts, at some goings-on that supposedly improves my culture status.”
Larry said “At the house I have every known brand of drinkable, and a stack of ... what did you call it? ... corny music. We can mix our own drinks and dance all by ourselves.”
She tucked her head to one side and looked at him suspiciously. “Are your intentions honorable?”
“We can even discuss that later,” he said sourly.
She laughed. “It's a date, Larry.”
He picked her up after work, and they drove to his Brandywine auto-bungalow, largely quiet the whole way.
At one point she touched his hand with hers and said, “It'll work out, Larry.”
“Yeah,” he said sourly. “I've put ten years into ingratiating myself with the Boss. Now, overnight, he's [pg 058] got a new boy. I suppose there's some moral involved.”
When they pulled up before his auto-bungalow, LaVerne whistled appreciatively. “Quite a neighborhood you're in.”