<p>John D. MacDonald</p><p>Don�t Get Carried Away</p>

Mr. Bradley Benton realized that it wasn�t working out at all. The way Phil had put it to him, it had sounded plausible. �Brad, for once in your life you�re going to work in a logical way. Here�s a copy of the play. Here�s the key to an apartment I�ve rented for you. There�s a piano there, and it�s in tune. It�s June. I want to go into rehearsal in early September. The rent�s paid for two months. When the two months are up, I want you to come out of there with seven gay sparkling effervescent show tunes, done only as Bradley Benton can do them.�

�But Phil...�

�Don�t give me that same old sad story, Brad. Not this time. You always say you have to be in love. Each time you think it�s the girl, but it never is. I always get the numbers from you, but I can�t stand the strain of waiting for joker with the bow and arrow. You�re grown up, aren�t you? You look grown up. So work like a grownup.�

�Phil, you�re trampling on something dear to me. The right girl is right around the corner. Brother, when that day comes! You�ll get more music than you can ever use.�

�Right now I want seven gay...�...effervescent sparkling show tunes. Yes.��So here�s the key.�

It didn�t work out in the beginning, even without the blonde. The melodies he pecked out had all the lilt and lift of a lead plated cinder blocks. The lyrics sang and rang like an oatmeal bell. With the addition of the blonde, it became even more hopeless.

Each sunny day she would step out onto the roof across the street, one story below his apartment windows. Clad in one of her breathless sun suits, carrying blanket, lotion, book and sun glasses, she would walk sedately and rhythmically to her chosen spot, adjust herself, annoint herself, and make a dreadful ruin of Bradley Benton�s next hour. After he began to notice her � if notice is the proper word for that traumatic experience � the possibility of working like an adult became even more remote.

He made a furtive trip back to his own place and returned with a pair of unsatisfyingly weak opera glasses. They were three power. And they trebled her impact.

Despite a growing reputation as tunesmith, despite several years of learning that assorted young ladies had clay feet and harpie mentalities, Bradley Benton was a shy man. He could readily think of all the bold and charming gambits his more extroverted friends would use to meet the damsel. But he could not see himself undertaking any of them. It was only his sense of decorum that kept him from buying the sixteen power battery commander�s telescope that he saw in a pawn shop window. And he was dubious about what sixteen times the impact of her would do to his unraveling nerves.

He told himself that she was a husk. A dubious mentality encased in a Minsky chassis. Doubtless a chomper of gum, who would comb her hair in public and wear runover heels.

But he did engage in some detective work. Enough, with the aid of a leering janitor to find that her name was Janice Baylor, that she lived quite alone in apartment 8 C of the building across the street.

He devised endless dialogues. They all took place immediately after he rapped on her apartment door. �Miss Baylor, my name is Bradley Benton. A good friend of mine is casting a show and he�s looking for...�

�Miss Baylor, I�ve just written a song and it was inspired by you and I wondered...�

Each dialogue ended as a monologue when she slammed the door.

At last on a sunny Saturday afternoon in early July, with no lines learned, with a forlorn sense of impending failure, with no show tunes written, Bradley Benton was drawn implacably across the street and into the cheer lobby of her building. He had dressed carefully. With each step his minority stock of confidence oozed away. He pressed the button for her apartment. The inner latch buzzed. He went in and up to eight on the self service elevator. It took a great amount of will power not to ride right back down again. He was trusting to the inspiration of the moment to think of what to say when she opened the door.

He knocked a bit flaccidly. She opened the door. She had that wonderful, vivid, larger-than-life look about her that had always in the past been the first telltale clue in his plunges into love. She wore shorts and a T shirt. She carried a mop. She had a smudge on her cheek and a smudge on her knee. She looked harried.

�Miss Baylor, I...�

�Come in. Don�t just stand there. Let me look at you.�

He walked in and closed the door. �Miss Baylor, I...�

�Hush, please.� She cocked her head on one side and stared intently at him. �I expected somebody that would look more... sneaky. That�s what I asked for. You look sort of... shaggy. Do you think you could act possessive. Sort of smirk at me. You know what I mean.�

�Smirk?�

�Tonight, when you come. What is your name? Maybe we can use your right name.�

�Bradley Benton.�

�Hmm. Bradley Benton. That ought to do. And you can wear those same clothes. They�ll be perfectly all right. You will call me Jan. You know, Mr. Benton, this may be an awfully stupid idea. I don�t suppose they told you much at the bureau. I didn�t tell them much.�

�They didn�t tell me a thing,� Brad said sincerely.

�Well, sit down a minute, and I�ll give you the long sad story. You�ll have to know about me if you expect to make intelligent conversation tonight. You look quite intelligent.�

�Thank you.�

�I�m a commercial artist. A free lance. I work right here. Last winter I fell in love with a man named Avery Ames. You�ll meet him tonight. He seemed to... well, frankly, he lost interest in me.�

�I can�t conceive of that.�

�It hurt. I decided I had to get over him. I went on a cruise this spring. The usual thing. Havana, Kingston, San Juan, Port of Spain. I met you on the ship. It was the S.S. Gaylands.�

�I beg your pardon?�

�It�s quite simple. I expected to meet some charming men who would take my mind off Avery. But the entire ship was loaded with females who apparently came with the same idea in mind. There were just a few men. Dreadful, dreary, mealy little creatures. I came back with a good tan and my bridge winnings and that was all. There�ll be five couples here tonight, including you and me. Avery is bringing his current girl. The party is for you. I met you on the ship. You happened to be in town. I want you to be very attentive to me. You know. Smirk and maybe sort of pat my shoulder and all that sort of thing. Let me see, you ought to have some sort of background. Can you think of something interesting?�

�Song writer?� he said hopefully.

�Goodness, no! That�s much too turgid. What city, beside this one, do you know well?�

�Will Philadelphia do?�

�Fine. Bradley Benton, and you�re a broker. I might as well pay you right now. That will save any awkwardness tonight.� She went to her purse and came back with thirty dollars. She flushed as she handed it to him and said, �If you do it well, I�ll find some way to give you a tip.�

�That�s very nice of you. Remember, you arrive at six sharp. I want you to be here when the others get here. Same clothes and be very possessive. I think all Avery needs is to have someone else show a personal interest in me.�

�I�ll show a personal interest.�

At the apartment door she said, �You aren�t what I expected, but I think you might be even better at it. If you don�t mind, how did you get into... this line of work?�

�It just happened, I guess.�

�I suppose it can be interesting at times. But I�d think you�d end up too often taking dreadful old ladies around to the night spots.�

�This, Miss Baylor, is one of the better assignments.�

�Six o�clock sharp. And on second thought, if you have a quieter necktie. That one is sort of florid. I�m not hurting your feelings?�

�Oh no. Not at all.�

�I do hope this isn�t a silly idea.�

�I�ll do my best. You can count on me.�

He rode down in the elevator in a bemused condition. He went into the outer lobby and waited there. It was fifteen minutes before a man came into the lobby in a hurry and read the names on the cards and reached to press Janice Baylor�s bell. Brad stopped him. The man looked like a mambo instructor in a charm school. Eyes like spilled quink and too much hair above the ears. Brad did not think Jan would have been happy with him.

�Are you the man from the bureau? For Miss Baylor?�

�Why yes, I am.�

�She changed her mind, sport. She regrets inconveniencing you. So here�s the whole fee anyway.�

�Hey now!� the man said. The money disappeared and so did the man. Brad reflected that perhaps on second thought Jan could have used that particular brand of pleased smirk.

At six on the dot he knocked on her door. Things had changed. The apartment gleamed. Miss Baylor gleamed. Blue flame danced under burnished copper. White plates were stacked on damask. The buffet silver was arranged in chaste geometry.

�Oh, that�s a better tie, Mr. Benton.�

�Thank you.� He handed her the transparent box.

�My goodness, what a lovely little gesture! Thank the bureau for me, Mr. Benton. Bradley. Or do people call you Brad?�

�Brad usually, Jan.�

�We should get used to the names, shouldn�t we? Could you mix drinks when they come? Benny usually crowds in as bartender. But he makes them too strong. I want this to be nice. I don�t want a brawl. I don�t mean mix drinks like an employee or anything. I mean sort of host-like.�

�I understand.�

The first couple arrived at six thirty. Their name was Fitzwilling. They seemed pleasant. Brad mixed cocktails, and with a wry thought of the unknown Benny, made his own quite strong. It was strength he thought he would need. Benny was half of the next couple. He was a small round man with the firm conviction that he was a character. The girl he brought was a full half head taller. She was a redhead named Lane something. She had a superb figure and adenoids that should have been taken out when she was small. She whinnied at everything Benny said. Brad kept Benny firmly away from the improvised bar.

When Jan let the next couple in, Brad received a jolting shock. The man was Avery Ames. Ames was slender-boned man with a small neat black mustache, a barbarous briar pipe and the practised sidelong look of someone who believes his best social grace to be a weary sophisticated cynical amusement. It was not Ames who shocked Brad. It was the girl he brought. Muriel Tollgate. A lovely dainty little blonde, fragile and delightful. For nearly a year Brad had thought that Muriel was the one.

But in the end he had learned that behind those tender eyes was a device IBM could have sold to banks. Life with Muriel would have been a long painful exercise in how to become exceedingly rich. She could use her little pink pointed tongue with all the effect of a bullwhip. They broke up, quite amiably, after he had discovered that her name should have been Tollgate.

Muriel came scampering to him, craned up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek with becoming shyness, and said, �Brad, honey! How are you?� She locked onto his arm and spun and said, �Avery, dear. This is Brad Benton. I�ve told you about him.�

�Yes indeed. Yes indeed,� said Ames, shaking hands languidly. He seemed about to yawn. Brad risked a glance at Jan. She was biting her lip. At that moment the last couple, a Pat and Johnny Daw arrived. Brad was introduced. He took drink orders. Muriel followed him back over to the bar.

�How have you been doing, Brad?� she asked. �Somebody told me you are doing the music for Phil�s new one.�

�I guess I lost out on that one,� he lied dolefully. �Things aren�t so good.� He saw the tiny gleam of satisfaction in her blue eyes. �What does this Ames type do?�

�Avery is a brilliant young lawyer. He�s going a long way.�

�At least it will seem long.�

She smiled fondly and lowered her voice and said, �You disgust me.� Then the smile faded and she looked puzzled. She looked around the room, frowning. She looked at Brad again. �Are you the one that Jan said over the phone was on the cruise she went on?�

�The good old S. S. Gaylands. Yessiree bob.�

�There�s something funny going on here,� Muriel said.

�Be a good girl and cart these off to the Daws.� She went away with the drinks, giving him a puzzled look as she went.

As soon as he could, he went to where Jan was standing. He beamed and put his arm around her. She stiffened a little in surprise and then gave him a long fond stare before going on with her conversation. He gave her a little squeeze and took his arm away.

Benny came up and said jovially, �Jan tells me you�re a broker in Philly.�

Brad was painfully aware that Muriel was too close, her eyes narrow, her ears coming to points. �Not exactly,� he said as easily as he could. �More broke than broker.�

Muriel said, �Jan, honey, I know it�s rude, but could I have a word with you, dear?� She and Jan headed for the bedroom. Muriel shot him a parting glance of complete malice. Brad made himself another drink.

They were in the bedroom over ten minutes. When they came back Jan was smiling in a rather wooden way. Brad made small talk and wondered how and when the ax would fall.

�Would you help me a minute, Brad, darling?� Jan asked. She led him to the kitchen, pulled the door shut behind them and whirled on him, eyes icy. �You could at least have been frank with me.�

�I�m sorry. When you came to the door I...�

�It put me in an impossible position. Muriel remembers seeing you in town while I was on that cruise. I couldn�t confess the whole truth, because after all, she�s going with Avery. I told her the man I met on the cruise couldn�t come at the last minute and I didn�t want to spoil the party so, sort of as a joke, I called the escort bureau and they sent you. It was pretty feeble, but it was the best I could do. She�s really sweet, you know. She promised not to spoil it by telling the others, especially Avery.�

�Muriel? Sweet? She�s got all the delicate sensibilities of a coral snake.�

�I think she�s sweet. Now you listen to me. I paid you thirty dollars and you�re working for me. The very least you could have done was tell me you�re an unsuccessful song writer who has to piece out your income this way.�

Brad felt an odd sense of relief. �I didn�t know there�d be anybody here I�d know.�

�It�s too late now. We better get back in there. But from now on, don�t paw me.�

�What?�

She went out through the door. He followed her. He kept an eye on Muriel during the next twenty minutes before it was time to eat. He saw her maneuver her way into a corner with Avery Ames, saw her talk intently to him, saw Ames stare across the room at him at first with a puzzled look and then with ripe amusement. Brad looked at Jan. He saw that Jan was watching the two of them also, and from the sudden desolation in her eyes, he sensed that she too had guessed.

Brad realized that he did not care at all for Avery Ames. In fact Muriel seemed quite suitable for Avery. A nice match. On impulse, but with the faint suggestion of a plan, he went over to Jan, patted her warmly on the shoulder and beamed at her.

�No more of that,� she whispered.

He put his arm snugly around her and tried not to wince when she put her high heel on his instep and shifted her weight onto it.

They all filled their plates and sat down to eat. The food was very good. Conversation was aimless. Brad was aware of Avery Ames studying him, and knew he made a perfect target for Ames� brand of wry amusement. He hoped Ames wanted to play.

And Ames finally did. He picked a conversational pause and jumped into it, flatfooted. �How are things in the music business, Benton? Really jumping?�

Brad shrugged. �Sort of quiet.�

�When you people write a smash hit, you really coin money, I understand. Got any smash hits working right now?�

�I�ve never had a real smash hit,� Brad said truthfully. �I�ve had some that have done quite nicely though.�

�That must give you a nice regular income from ASCAP.�

Brad looked at Jan. Her head was tilted to one side. She was looking at Ames quite oddly. It heartened Brad. He smiled at Ames and said, �Are you straining for my legal business?�

Ames smiled back. �Hardly. I�m a corporation lawyer.�

�You doing all right?�

�He�s doing very well indeed,� Muriel said proudly.

�What goes on?� Benny demanded. �Anybody want to come around to my place and read over my old tax forms? Or is this building up to a poker game in the back room?�

�We�re just talking economics, Benny,� Ames said in a silky way. �This is a tough town. But if a man is sufficiently presentable, and knows which fork to use, he can always find something that will...�

�Have you finished your dinner, Avery?� Jan asked in a deceptively soft voice.

�Why, yes,� Ames said, faintly surprised.

�Then I think you ought to take your trustworthy loyal little Miss Tollgate and make tracks. Go see a nice floorshowy somewhere. Spend some of your nice corporation money.�

Muriel broke the long moment of stunned shock by saying sweetly, �We do hate to eat and run, but you know how it is. Come on, Avery.�

They left and Jan tried for a few minutes to bring the party together again. But it was no use. The Daws and the Fitzwillings were troubled and uncomfortable. Even Benny was subdued. They began to make excuses about having to run along so early.

Benny said plaintively, �I wish somebody would tell me what goes on around here.�

Brad saw from the expression on Jan�s face that she was about to make an abject confession. So he said hastily, �I�ll straighten you out, people. I�m just an acquaintance of Miss Baylor�s. I wasn�t on the cruise with her at all. This, if I may say so, was a rather silly and childish attempt on Jan�s part to get Avery Ames interested in her again. I live right across the street and I offered to help. But Muriel spoiled it because she knew I wasn�t on that cruise. Muriel got it into her head that Jan had gotten me from an escort bureau. That�s ridiculous, of course. Then when Ames started picking on me, Jan got mad, didn�t you?�

�It�s no use, Brad,� she said. �Nice try though. I was a darn fool and I did get him from an escort bureau.�

�Goodness sakes,� said the big redheaded Lane. �Can anybody get one?�

�It cost me thirty dollars to humiliate myself, and now I think you all better leave.� Tears started to come to her eyes.

Benny looked at the Daws and at the Fitzwillings. He went over to the couch and took Jan�s hand. �Honey, are you over Avery Ames now?�

Jan nodded, and snuffled.

�Well, we�re your friends, kid, and none of us ever liked that Ames character. We�re glad to be shut of him. Right, Pat? Johnny? Claire?�

They murmured agreement.

�So we�ll all shove off now,� Benny said, �not because anybody�s sore, but because you need a chance to pull yourself together.�

It amused Brad that as they left they should take great pains to say goodnight to him warmly and politely. Just as if he was as good as anybody else.

�You can go too,� Jan said.

�I�ll help clean up.�

�Is that part of the service too?� she asked bitterly, then said, �I�m sorry. That was nasty. I didn�t mean it.�

�I�ll help clean up, Jan, and then let�s get out of here. Go someplace and hear some music, with maybe a touch of dancing. Not part of the contract. Just as... friends.�

She looked at him for a long moment. She said, �You know a funny thing? I don�t feel as bad as I should feel about this. He�s utterly gone out of my heart. I don�t care if I never see him again. I don�t feel bad at all. Yes, I think I might like to go out. I might like it a lot. But I�ll pay the check.�

�Let me make a gesture, will you?�

She smiled. �All right. Just a date then.�

He helped her pick up the apartment. He was happy. This was the one. After too long a time, and too many Muriels, this nice warm tall wonderful blonde was the one. He felt a quickening within himself, a good feeling of being entirely alive. Now the music would come, and this time it would be the best. There would be time to tell her later. Time later to laugh about it.

She was at the kitchen sink. He put his arm around her and kissed her on the temple.

She pulled away from him, her eyes wide, and said, �Don�t get carried away. I don�t even know you!�

�It�s all right. We�re all bonded,� he said earnestly.

She pursed her lips. �Oh. I see. Bonded, eh? And that makes it all right.�

�You can feel the most complete confidence.�

She tilted her mouth up, said, �Let me see,� and closed her eyes.

He kissed her with considerable enthusiasm. When he released her she nodded sagely, her eyes owlish and full of mischief. �You�re absolutely right,� she said. �Utter confidence, Mr. Benton.�

�Thank you, Miss Baylor.�

�But don�t get carried away.�

He looked intently at her and then beamed. �Miss Baylor, you have just titled a gay sparkling effervescent show tune.�