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TALK ABOUT TEMPTATION.

"Excuse me?"

"Temptation. The things that make you want to . . ." Barbara Walters leaned forward six inches ". . . be bad." She stopped just short of leaving the bubble of good light that surrounded her chair.

George held fast to the arms of his own chair, trying to stay calm. Trying to stay focused. How had he gotten here?... Read more

TALK ABOUT TEMPTATION.

Unless I misread the body language -- and I'd always been pretty good at reading body language -- my interview subject was propositioning me.

"Listen, Lariss," he said, smoky eyes catching a glint of late-afternoon light through his hotel-room window.

I didn't care for the way he'd taken to dropping the "a" at the end of my name. Hollywood people did things like that sometimes.... Read more

"TALK ABOUT TEMPTATION", the President's analyst instructed.

George shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "You want me to talk about temptations? Sure, I get 'em all the time in my job."

Out of the corner of his eye, George watched the doctor put down his clipboard and open up a desk drawer, then another.

George started to talk about his temptations.... Read more

TALK ABOUT TEMPTATION.

When I got home from hauling logs out of the forest on a sled, my calves burning and my eyes tearing, I found my sister Olive cranking the generator under the porch. It hadn't started yet, but she was determined and had taken off her mittens for better traction.

"Hurry and hook up the old Tube, Clementine!" she said. "Sarah downtown found movies in her attic, and I swapped three blankets for the lot."... Read more

GEORGE'S NOSE WAS OUT OF JOINT.

You're shittin' me, was the first thing he said when he stepped onto the boat and found out we had no wine or beer on board. You are such a prissbutt, he said to me.

Lizzie explained that she'd thought scattering Dad's ashes might be sweeter if we didn't make it into a party. Sweeter! I laughed. But George went into a royal sulk. He is 12 minutes younger than me and likes to blame me for things.... Read more

GEORGE'S NOSE WAS OUT OF JOINT.

"What do you mean, Nate's not here?" he wheezed, straining to peer into the apartment over Ella's shoulder. "Where else would he be?"

"At the airport?" Ella answered.... Read more

GEORGE'S NOSE WAS OUT OF JOINT, there was a bruise over his left eye, and his shoulder still ached from last time.

Who the fuck does she think she is? Ed takes it out on her, so she takes it out on me? What is this, Oliver Twist or something? Crime and Punishment?... Read more

GEORGE'S NOSE WAS OUT OF JOINT, and by God he wasn't going to sit around all day while he figured out what in heaven's name to do. "This is not my cup of tea," he screamed at his secretary Jennie. She wasn't sure if he was referring to the mug of Orange Pekoe that she had handed him moments earlier or if he was saying that he hated his job. That was the thing about George. No one was ever quite sure what he was saying whenever he spoke.... Read more