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A friend of his, an art collector, offered a loan—to be paid back in artwork—but only on the condition that he get to meet the teenager who had broken up a marriage. Arnold didn’t say as much, but I sensed I was part of the transaction. The collector owned a steel plant, three homes, had grandchild…

I had already told them that I was seeing a married man thirty years my senior. To an addict, not one of the boys or girls approved. Despite the messes they had made of their own adolescence, they believed that I had made an even worse choice. The girls in particular found the idea of having an old…

After I hung up, while I was still intoxicated from the accomplishment of having Arnold give up not one but two women for me, my mother swept aside the love beads.

“Is he getting a divorce?” she asked. “Is he going to marry you?”

I accused her of being pitifully conventional, but in truth, I …

rnold told me he wished he could be with me tonight. He was stuck at a party, hiding in the coatroom. The hosts of the party were old friends of his—fellow travelers from back in the Red Scare days. The husband now owned a fur shop in Beverly Hills; the wife was a big supporter of Israel. He didn’t…

Or maybe his analyst asked him about the other sources of his anxiety besides me. His wife, of course. And his other mistress, E.

I knew about E. He had promised me that he was going to break up with her soon, but it was complicated. She was married to a friend of his. The two couples dined regu…