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Belle came in from the back room. Barefoot, wearing only a bra and pants, her hair tied on top of her hand, a rag in one hand.

"You came home too early."

"What in hell is this?"

"It's almost a clean office, honey. Lord, this place was dirty—I damn near had to use a chisel on the floor in the back."

"Belle…"

"I couldn't get that rug up. And you don't have a vacuum—I should've known. It's some kind of plastic, isn't it? I had to scrub it down…. It's still damp—watch where you put your feet."

I walked over to the couch. Sat down. Slowly. Pansy leaped onto the cushions, pressing against me. I patted her head.

Belle came over to me. "That old beast—she followed me around everywhere. Big busybody, poking her nose into everything. She wouldn't hardly let me work."

"I…"

"Honey, don't you like it?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's great. I just…"

"Take a look," she said, reaching out her hand to me. "Come on."

The bathroom sparkled, the back window gleamed. The floor glistened. The walls were a color I had never seen before. Even the hot plate looked new.

"Damn!"

"It's good, huh?"

"It's unbelievable."

"I thought there was another room. Behind the rug on the wall."

"That's what people are supposed to think," I said, half to myself. The surfaces of the file cabinets looked like someone had worked them over with a power sander. My old desk was oiled—you could even see the grain in the wood.

"How'd you do all this?"

"I'm a working fool—always have been. I was raised on work."

"I don't know what to say." It was the truth.

The big girl moved in against me, sharp sweat–smell blending with her natural juices into something way past sweet. "Say what I want to hear," she whispered.

I slipped both hands inside her pants, pulling her tight against me. "Go take a shower," I said.

She ground her hips against me. "That isn't it," she said.

"Trust me."

"I do."

"Well…?"

She pulled back from me, walked toward the back room, shaking her butt like she was on the runway. Pansy shook her head in amazement. "You want out?" I asked her, opening the back door. The beast turned away in disgust—I guess she'd been on the roof a few times since I'd been gone.

I had most of the furniture back in place in a few minutes. I was rehooking the rug on the wall when Belle came out. Nude, beads of water covering yards of pink flesh. She had a towel around her head, holding it in place with her hands.

"I'm all clean."

"Come here," I said, reaching into my jacket pocket.

She came over to the desk, giving her hair one final rub with the towel, then tossing it over to the couch.

"Just stay there for a minute," I said, signaling Pansy to come with me. I dumped everything in the refrigerator into her giant bowl. I added some chocolate–chip cookies and a pint of vanilla ice cream. "Speak!" I told her. It would keep her occupied for a good five minutes.

I went back inside. Belle was standing by the desk, the soul of patience. I stood close to her, holding her face in my hands, looking into her dark eyes.

"Turn around," I said.

She turned her back to me, bent over so her elbows were on the desk, butt in the air.

I stepped in against her, grabbed her shoulders, pulled her back so she was standing up again. "Just do what I tell you," I said.

"I thought…"

"Sssh. Close your eyes."

"Okay, I…"

"And be quiet."

She stood with her back to me, hands at her sides. So quiet I could hear her breathing.

I took the necklace out of the leather pouch, unhooked the clasp, and slipped it around her neck. I hooked it closed. "Turn around," I told her.

Her eyes were still closed, but her mouth was trembling. The lapis was blue fire against her, falling down just to the top of her breasts. I kissed her on the lips. "Take a look," I whispered to her.

Belle kept her eyes closed, working the necklace with her fingers, feeling the heat. Her eyes came open; she lifted it in her hands, bent her head.

"It's the most pure–beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole life," she said solemnly. Tears on her face.