The Kiwi Target

hair reached down almost to her shoulder.
    “Jenny,” he said, “you look wonderful. Thank you for coming.”
    “Thank you for asking me.” She was almost a different girl. The business veneer was gone, and she had become his lady for the evening.
    “You know Queenstown and I don’t,” he said. “Where would you like to go?”
    “Have you been up the gondolas? It’s quite nice up there, and the view is something special.”
    “I’ll get the car.”
    “Let’s take mine,” she suggested. “It’s right outside.”
    It was only a few blocks to the base of the alpine lift, a steep cableway up a respectable mountain to a chalet perched near the top. As Peter started toward the ticket window, Jenny gently drew him aside. “That isn’t necessary,” she said.
    She guided him toward the starting point, where a young man was waiting to load passengers. “Hello, Freddie,” she said.
    “Hello, Jenny. Going up?” He held a gondola door invitingly open. Jenny climbed into the small enclosed cab that could hold four people. Peter followed her, and the door was closed.
    The car glided out of the station, hung suspended in sudden silence, and then began its steady climb up the face of the mountain. When it slid past a tower, Jenny smiled and rested her hand on his. “Look behind you,” she said.
    He turned to face a breathtaking panorama. Queenstown was already far below, and the gathering twilight made Wakatipu into an enchanted lake with garlands of lights laid at her feet. When he turned back to his companion, he saw that the chalet had appeared just above them, and on the platform a middle- aged man was waiting to help them off.
    A few carpeted steps took them into a large dining room. The hostess greeted Jenny warmly before she showed them to the one remaining window table that displayed a small RESERVED sign. She put down a menu and left them to themselves.
    Peter took a long moment to drink in the fantastic view of the lake, the mountains, tiny-appearing Queenstown far below, and overhead a vaulting cloudless sky. It all held an emotional richness he could never have put into words, but the feeling charged his whole being.
    He looked at his very attractive companion and asked, “What would you like from the bar?”
    “A glass of white wine.”
    When the cocktail waitress appeared, there was another exchange of greetings. After she had gone, Jenny leaned forward. “Peter, because we have so many tourists here, there are two separate societies: we natives and the visitors. We don’t mingle a lot.”
    “I understand that,” he said. “I’m grateful you made me an exception. I went to court today. Now, it seems, I’m a property owner here, and I’m thinking of staying awhile, getting used to things.”
    “There must be a girl back in the States.”
    “Not really. My secretary and I got along, against usual company policy, but we were just friends.”
    “Close friends?”
    “Sometimes, for mutual comfort and benefit.”
    Jenny looked at him over the rim of her wineglass. “If you’d denied that, I don’t think I’d have believed you.”
    The table waitress came and took their order. When they were again alone, Jenny put a question. “How long would you stay here?”
    “I don’t know. I have my job to think of, and it means a lot to me. But I’ve found my aunt, and she’s wonderful. I’ve never had any relatives before. Ray O’Malley thinks he can get my visa changed since I’m a landowner here now and I’m of New Zealand descent.”
    “He’s a good lawyer,” Jenny said.
    “I know.”
    “He has a son.”
    “How old?”
    “Twenty-seven.”
    “You know him.”
    “He’s a friend.”
    “A serious one?”
    “Not at the moment.”
    He steered away from that and kept the conversation general until the food arrived. It was satisfactory if not elegant. The magnificent view was being gradually swallowed up by the oncoming night, but it had already made the meal a full success. By the time the dessert was brought, they had both relaxed enough to feel freer in each other’s company.
    As they rode back down in one of the small cars, he remembered how similar engagements had ended up—at his place or hers. But not this time. He sensed clearly that Jenny was not inclined toward casual encounters, even though her enforced proximity kept him freshly reminded of her desirability.
    He was grateful when they stepped out into the cool evening and he was able to walk with her back to her