...And Never Let HerGo

doing!” she said.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “He knows I’m going to the Grand Gala with Mike, and he’s been calling me all day.”
    Jill admitted that she had let it slip, maybe even subconsciously, to show Tom that he didn’t own Anne Marie. She was sorry that she had. While Jill was in Anne Marie’s apartment, the phone rang continually. During that short time, there were six calls from Tom, and Anne Marie told Jill that he said he could find a date and come to the Grand Gala. She was terrified that he would expose their relationship not only to Mike but to the crowd. That would leave her lovely evening, her life itself, in ashes.
    “It’s the one thing in my life I’m most ashamed of,” Anne Marie said hopelessly. All her joy evaporated as she visualized Tom’s carrying out his threat.
    Eventually, Anne Marie pulled herself together and got dressed. Despite her apprehension, she looked gorgeous. Jill stayed until Mike arrived, reassuring Anne Marie that even Tom wouldn’t
really
have the nerve to show up at the Gala and make some kind of public declaration.
    Inside, Jill wasn’t so sure. After she finished her shopping, she decided to drive by Tom’s house to see if his car was there—but she couldn’t find the address. She had his phone number, so she called him on her car phone. It was nine-thirty. If he answered, it would mean he wasn’t at the ball. When she heard his voice, she hung up, vastly relieved. Annie was safe from his harassment—at least for that night.
    The next day, Anne Marie told Jill that it had been the most wonderful night of her life. But not because Tom stayed away. Anne Marie later confided to her therapist that Tom
had
come to the Hotel du Pont. When she left Mike to go to the ladies’ room, he was waiting in a small anteroom. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in, but she broke away from him and said she would not allow him to spoil her night. She was back at Mike’s side, her heart pounding but her smile steady, before he had time to miss her.
    Tom had had no date for the Grand Gala; appearing at the hotel was simply his way of showing Anne Marie that he always knew where she was and who she was with.
    Even so, that night at the ball would remain one of her most precious memories. People had teased Mike and asked him where he found the model he was dancing with. And for once, Anne Marie had
believed
she was beautiful. She and Mike agreed that they would date each other exclusively. They weren’t engaged, or engaged to be engaged, but they were going steady.

Chapter Seventeen
    A S EXHILARATING as her night at the ball had been, Anne Marie worried about how hurt Tom was that she had been with Mike. That was Anne Marie; she had been harassed, tormented, and stalked—but upon reflection, she felt sorry for Tom because of the gloomy picture he had painted of himself during his barrage of phone calls on Saturday. While other women would have been able to tell him where to go in unladylike terms, Anne Marie could not. She was cursed with such an acute empathy for another’s pain that she had to apologize—once again—to Tom.
    At ten minutes to eight the Monday after the Grand Gala, Anne Marie sent an E-mail to Tom.
    First let me start off by saying that I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you over the weekend. I am afraid and I do not know where to begin. I spent a good part of yesterday morning/afternoon at Valley Garden Park thinking about a lot of stuff: Us, Girls, Eating Disorder, my family, etc. I desperately want to talk to you, but I’m too afraid to place the call. I do love you Tommy no matter what happens—I will always love you. Annie
    Was it a mixed signal? Yes. Did it mean she wanted to get back with him? No. Anne Marie was still trying to ease out of an untenable relationship without doing any harm. And she was trying to get up her nerve to tell Tom that she wanted to be with Mike, and Mike only. However, Tom would completely ignore that part of her message. And her E-mail was like opening the door to the cage of a fox just an inch so it could breathe more easily.
    Tom didn’t write back until the next morning—Saul, Ewing’s computer had been down—but he responded like a man who was back in the game:
    I desperately want to talk to you, too, and I’ll go out of my mind if I don’t soon. Please don’t be afraid to place the call. I need to hear your voice. I’m leaving now for a meeting. Please call me. Not hearing from you since