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"What did you just say?" "I don't know, read it back. Hand me my bra, would you?" Robert found it flung over the back of a chair and passed it to her. He felt dazed and his head hurt. "I feel dazed and my head hurts," he said. "And I don't know why I just said that. And I'm sure I didn't really feel it until just before I said it. And I don't understand what you're saying at all." "I'm saying you're not real, Robert. And neither am I, neither is this room, or this conversation. We're just fiction. This is a story, Robert," she continued. "You're a regular guy and I'm a woman who's no good for you and we're having a night of cheap thrills, and then you're going to have a horrible revelation. That's our plot." Robert's mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat. "This is all being made up as it goes along," Charlotte said. "That's why you couldn't remember anything when you first got here, because that was the beginning of the story, and nothing had been written yet. But when. Tomorrow, they caught a flight home and life would surly return to normal. These fantasies of infidelity would most assuredly stop.Karl was waiting outside the ladies room. "Better?" she asked with a self-conscience gesture."Better."They walked together to the ballroom where roughly 1,500 conference participants mingled, drank and ignored the music provided by the hotel DJ. Karl and Zahra walk through making sure everyone was enjoying themselves. After an hour or so, Karl got a call and left the room a short while later he returned, grinning."What?" I just knew we could not get out of here without one last crisis." Now what?" Zahra had had the same feeling."Some kind of technical glitch. Come on." He led her out a side door of the room to a hallway lined with electrical cords and to a small, dark phone closet. It was larger than the plane bathroom, she noticed, but hardly large enough to have passionate sex. Not like, say the queen-size bed in her room upstairs. She shook her head to.
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