'Like maybe you have a thing for him? Daisy said he has one for you.'
'Daisy's been inhaling too much pottery glaze.'
'Methinks the lady doth protest too-'
'I do not!'
Frannie ended the semi-heated discussion by grabbing an arm from both Elise and Phoebe. 'Oh, my gosh, Bill's coming. Hide me.'
'Hide you?' Elise and Phoebe said together.
'I look too fat in this bathing suit!'
Phoebe gave Frannie a once-over. She wore a one-piece suit with a skirt, and it had pictures of-what else?-cats all over it. 'Frannie, you have a very cute figure and you look great in that suit.'
'Remember what Jane Jasmine says,' Elise reminded Frannie, as Bill came closer, strolling along with his toolbox and whistling tunelessly. ''No matter what size or shape you are, be proud of it.''
'She's probably a size two!' Frannie groused. But when Bill waved jauntily to the women, Frannie smiled and waved back. 'Hi, Bill. Did you get a chance to look at my car?'
'Oh, yeah, Frannie. It was just a loose wire. All fixed.'
Frannie batted her eyelashes and pushed her chest out a bit. 'I just don't know what I'd do without your help. I'm so hopeless when it comes to anything mechanical.'
'My pleasure.' Bill tipped his baseball cap, then continued on his way.
'Frannie!' Elise scolded. 'Stop playing dumb with him. Men don't fall for that helpless act anymore.'
'Oh, rats, I keep forgetting. That's what I did when I was a girl, and old habits are hard to break.'
Elise gave Frannie's shoulders a squeeze. 'It's okay. I think Bill's pretty smitten no matter what you do.'
'But he does like it when I'm more self-sufficient. I changed my own air-conditioning filters the other day, and he was so proud of me I thought his shirt buttons would pop off.'
'See?' Phoebe said. 'It's the ones who want you to be helpless and dumb you have to watch out for.' And she'd encountered plenty of that type. In fact, she seemed to attract that type.
Even Wyatt sometimes talked down to her. He treated her like she had a mind of her own. Oh, he respected her skill, even if she was just a lowly makeup artist. But he over-explained things.
How would he feel, she wondered, if he knew her true career aspirations? What would he think about kissing a future biochemist who planned to manufacture cosmetics instead of put them on other people's faces?
Her fellow students and her professors treated her differently than most people. Though she'd gotten her share of stares her first semester, her study buddies now treated her like an intellectual equal-something new and refreshing for Phoebe. But Wyatt already knew her on a safe, nonthreatening level. Would he go weird on her if he found out she was brainy? Elise had warned her that some men were intimidated by an intelligent woman, and that she ought to be prepared for it.
'Yo, Zombie Woman,' Elise said.
Phoebe snapped back to attention. She'd been zoning out.
'You'd better put some sunscreen on.'
She swam laps, instead, hoping that if she worked her body hard enough, she would banish her hopeless thoughts regarding Wyatt Madison.
At 11:10 on Friday, Wyatt found Phoebe predictably packing up her cosmetics, preparing for her flight.
He leaned in through the doorway. 'The whole crew is heading to Vito's for lunch in a few minutes,' he said. 'It's kind of a tradition, our version of a staff meeting. I hope you can join us.'
She looked up, her regret obvious. 'I really wish I could, but I've got plans.'
'You can't rearrange them, just this once?' he prodded.
She shook her head. 'Maybe next Friday I can. Now that I know it's important. My schedule isn't very flexible, but with some advance notice I can usually manage.'
'Oh, that reminds me,' Wyatt said. 'Kelly has to take next Friday off, so we're taping Friday's show on Wednesday afternoon. Is that a problem?'
Phoebe looked almost stricken. 'All afternoon?'
'We'll probably be done by three. But then you can take Friday off.'
'You might want to look around for a substitute makeup artist,' she said. 'I'll see what I can arrange and let you know Monday, but afternoons are a problem.'
'What keeps you so busy in the afternoon?' he asked, keeping his tone light and playful. 'Hot date?'
She smiled. 'Nothing like that.' She glanced at her watch. 'I really have to go. Sorry I can't join the group for lunch.'
'That's okay. I'll brief you later. I did promise when I hired you that the hours were regular, so I guess I can't renege on that now.'
'I appreciate that.' She closed and locked her case, picked it up as if it were nothing-and he knew it weighed a ton-and brushed past him out of the dressing room. His body immediately reacted to her nearness, her fresh floral scent, but she seemed oblivious. ''Bye, have a nice weekend.'
That sounded as if she didn't plan on seeing or talking to him until Monday, which irritated him no end. Where did she run off to every day? The mystery was driving him crazy.
Impulsively, he raced to Phyllis's office and stuck his head in the door. 'I can't come to Vito's today.'
She looked surprised. He ducked out before she could voice an objection, then headed for the parking lot. He reached the exit just in time to see Phoebe climbing into a cute compact car.
He knew he was acting nuts, but he couldn't help it. He ducked behind a row of cars so she wouldn't see him, then tucked and ran to his own car and jumped in. He started it up and backed out, waited until he saw which direction Phoebe headed, then followed.
He tailed her for twenty minutes. She was heading out of town, through the suburb of Tempe. His imagination ran wild. Maybe she had a secret double life: a husband and kids somewhere who thought she spent all her time visiting a sick grandmother in Phoenix. Maybe she was an exotic dancer in some out-of-the-way club. Maybe she was visiting a drug treatment center, kicking a coke habit.
Or maybe- His appalling speculations came to a screeching halt when Phoebe's car turned into the main entrance of the ArizonaStateUniversity campus. She was visiting a college? What on earth for? Was she selling Avon products to co-eds, maybe cutting and styling hair in the dorms for extra money? She'd said she didn't have another job, but maybe she was afraid Wyatt would want her to work exclusively for his show if he found out about her extracurricular activities.
He followed her, as she wove her way down this drive and that, finally parking in a hot that required a blue sticker, which her car seemed to have. So this was someplace she belonged.
Since he didn't have a parking permit, he pulled his Jag under a tree in a No Parking zone. He would only be here a minute, he reasoned. He watched as Phoebe climbed out of her car, lugging what looked like a heavy backpack, and headed for the entrance of the nearest building, which was the library.
A tall, thin young man with thick glasses greeted her on the library steps. She gave him a quick hug-more a shoulder squeeze, really-then they both sat down on the steps. He had a backpack, too-which seemed to be standard issue on this campus; every kid who walked past had one. He opened his pack and pulled out two paper- wrapped items, then handed one to her. It was a sandwich. The two of them chatted and ate lunch. Phoebe opened her pack, pulled out two bottles of something, and handed one to the kid.
So, Wyatt thought, supremely disappointed, his first instinct had been right. Phoebe had a boyfriend, some possibly underage kid she wanted to keep secret. From what he knew about Phoebe, her choice didn't make much sense. She was a TV star, a completely gorgeous woman who could probably attract any guy in the world just by crooking her little finger. He didn't even eliminate himself; if she even half tried, she could have him. She'd bent him completely out of shape with no effort at all.
So why was she involved with some zit-faced kid who hadn't even finished school?
'Wait a minute…' He leaned back between the seats until he found what he was looking for-the copy of