'I bet you taste good, too.'
'You'll never know, will you?'
'All the guys on 'Skin Deep' had a running bet about you, you know.'
'No, I didn't know,' Phoebe said, bored. 'Lift your chin.' She gingerly applied makeup to his neck.
'We were betting whether your breasts were real or not.'
Phoebe didn't reply. Let him wonder all he wanted. 'Mark said they were, but Vinnie said they weren't.'
'As if either of them would know.' She tried not to let it get to her that a couple of low-life technicians on the 'Skin Deep' set claimed they had intimate knowledge of her body. 'Turn to the right.'
By the time she finished his foundation, she thought the discussion was over. But he wouldn't drop it.
'You look like you've gained weight.'
'I've been working out.'
'You must have pretty good muscle tone.' He grabbed her butt. 'Yeah, you do.'
She gently but firmly grasped his hand and removed it from her person. 'Don't touch me again, or I'll make you look like a female impersonator.' This was dreadful. She wouldn't feel a bit guilty about taking five hundred dollars from Wyatt. At least at Sunrise her clients didn't grope her.
'Oh, now, Vanessa-'
'Phoebe. Ms. Lane, to you.'
'You're obviously much too tense. What you need is a good massage.' As if he had a perfect right to, he placed his hands on her breasts and started squeezing.
Phoebe reacted with pure instinct. She slapped him. He let go, but immediately came out of his chair, pure rage in his eyes. He pushed her up against the wall of his dressing room and pinned her there. 'You audacious, two-bit, has-been actress,' he hissed in her face. 'You are gonna be real sorry you did that.'
Phoebe was only a little scared. She'd been through similar scenarios before. The door to the dressing room was open, and if she screamed really loud someone would come running. But she preferred to deal with this her own way rather than causing trouble on the set of Wyatt's show. She could knee Taylor in the groin or-
All at once he let her go. Phoebe breathed a sigh of relief-until she realized Wyatt had Taylor by the scruff of the neck and was shaking him the way a terrier would a rat.
'What the hell do you think you're doing!' Wyatt bellowed. Taylor swung his arms ineffectually and squealed for Wyatt to let him go. Wyatt wound up like he was going to punch Taylor in the face, but Phoebe grabbed his arm to prevent it.
'No, Wyatt! You'll get sued!'
'Damn right he will!' Taylor agreed, no doubt sensing Phoebe wouldn't allow any further violence.
'For defending my employee against sexual assault?' Wyatt said, gradually loosening his hold on Taylor. 'I don't think so. That's not the kind of publicity you want.'
Taylor straightened his clothes, never taking his eyes off Wyatt. After backing a safe distance away, he looked back at Phoebe. 'Let's just finish the makeup. I'm on in fifteen minutes.'
'No, you're not,' Wyatt said, picking up the phone. He pushed a button and spoke into the receiver. 'I need Security in the dressing room area.'
'I'm not going on?' Taylor asked.
'No. I don't give free publicity to sexual predators.'
'Give me a break, man. I wasn't doing anything she didn't invite me to do.'
The excuse sickened Phoebe. How many times had she heard some guy swear she was 'coming on to' him? Still, she didn't want Wyatt to get sued over this.
'It's okay, Wyatt,' she said quietly. 'I appreciate your concern, but it's not that big a deal. Taylor just got a little carried away.'
Wyatt flashed her a look that was part anger, part sympathy. 'I saw what was happening,' he said, just as quietly.
Two security guards appeared at the door. Wyatt motioned them inside. 'Escort Mr. Shad and his entourage to their limousine.'
'I'll sue you, man!' Taylor said. 'We have a contract.'
Wyatt just nodded to the guards. In moments each had one of Taylor's arms and they were dragging him out the dressing room door.
'You didn't have to do that,' Phoebe said, when she and Wyatt were alone. 'I had it under control.'
'That's not what it looked like to me.'
'I was just trying to decide whether to scream or knee him in the groin.' But her trembling gave her away. Taylor Shad had scared her worse than she'd realized.
'Phoebe.'
Her name on his lips sounded like a caress. He gently took her arm and led her and her shaky knees to the chair Taylor had just vacated. Without another word, he handed her a tissue. That was when she realized she was crying.
'Do you want to press charges against him?' Wyatt asked. 'Just say the word, and I'll call the cops.'
'Heavens, no.' Phoebe blotted carefully at her tears, trying not to smear her own makeup. 'But if he sues you, I'll testify.'
'He won't sue me. The contract never guaranteed he'd actually get on the air.'
'And how are you going to fill up the other half of the show?' She turned toward the TV mounted in a corner of the room, where even now one of the hosts was promising an appearance by a hot young star.
'Contingency plan. But I'd better go put it in motion. You sure you're okay?'
Phoebe smiled and nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude toward Wyatt. He hadn't once insinuated she was to blame for the incident. A lot of people assumed that blond hair and a C cup were an automatic invitation.
After he'd gone, she drank some water and repaired her makeup. Feeling more herself, she wandered out to the set to watch, finding a stool well out of the way to perch on.
During the commercial break Wyatt was all over the studio, briefing his hosts on the change of plans, ordering someone to move a light, explaining to the audience that they wouldn't be seeing Taylor Shad, after all. With calm efficiency he took what could have been a monumental disaster and turned it into a minor annoyance. Phoebe caught herself thinking that if Wyatt had been producing 'Skin Deep,' the show might have fared much better.
The second half of the show went on as if they'd planned it that way all along. The hosts brought out a board game that was sweeping college campuses, inviting a couple of preselected audience members to participate. The results were hilarious.
Wyatt came and stood next to her. 'You okay?' he asked, his voice full of concern.
'I'm fine.'
'I'm really sorry it happened.'
'It's not your fault. How could you have known Taylor would assault me?'
'What do you think happened to my regular makeup artist?'
'Oh.'
'I should have sent someone in there with you. Or, at least, warned you.'
'You had a few other things on your mind.'
'No, that's not it. I didn't tell you because I was afraid you'd quit, too.'
Phoebe had to admit one thing: Wyatt was refreshingly honest.
'Forget about it, okay? It's not the first time someone made an unwanted pass at me, and it probably won't be the last.'
But she knew the pass wouldn't come from Wyatt. Ever since he'd rescued her from Taylor, he'd taken great pains to behave with exaggerated professionalism. In fact, he acted as if he thought she might shatter.
Too bad, she caught herself thinking. If Wyatt ever tried to kiss her, it wouldn't once occur to her to knee him in the groin.
Chapter 5
