She appeared to understand how men's thought processes worked. Although she wasn't above using a trick or two to
He flipped through the book again, finally locating the chapter he thought he remembered seeing: 'Lessons in Love: Get an Education.' Most worthwhile men, Jane advised, liked a woman who could think. By pursuing educational avenues that interested her, whether it was history or computer science, a woman could double her chances of meeting the right man. First, she was improving herself, and second, she was expanding her base of friends and acquaintances.
Apparently Phoebe had taken Jane's advice to heart. He wondered what kind of class she might be taking. He didn't think ArizonaState offered cosmetology classes, but he could be wrong. MaybePE, he speculated. Something was keeping her body in unbelievable condition.
When he saw a campus police car headed his way, he put his Jag in gear and pulled away. He'd seen enough. If she was trolling college campuses for a husband, it was none of his business. He would simply put it out of his mind. He wouldn't think about Phoebe again until he saw her Monday morning.
But he found he couldn't dismiss her from his thoughts so easily. What was she thinking? If she was intent on robbing the cradle, at least she could pick a good-looking, studly student, one who would measure up to her in the looks department.
Obviously Phoebe needed some relationship advice. He was older and wiser than she; he'd been in relationships good and bad, he'd seen friends fall in love, get married, get divorced. He could give her some much- needed guidance, before she did something stupid like marry some totally inappropriate guy just because she craved a white picket fence.
Besides, it was in his best interest to keep her happy and well grounded. She was his employee. He depended on her to show up every day, focused and ready to work. So far she'd done that, but who knew what would happen next week if JoeCollege threw her over? He felt suddenly quite paternal toward Phoebe, very protective. Though it might not be pleasant, he was obligated to sit her down and talk sense into her. Tonight, if possible.
Phoebe had never been so happy to see the weekend. Three mid-term exams in one week was hellish; five straight days of working with Wyatt had been more than enough to fray her nerves.
Tonight, she thought as she pulled into the Mesa Blue parking lot, she would order a pizza, put on her jammies, climb into bed and watch old movies…
The sight of Wyatt's Jag in its spot distracted her for a moment, but then she chastised herself for letting such a little thing bother her. The man did live here, at least temporarily. He had a right to relax at home on the weekend. Anyway, what were the chances she would run into him? The whole first week he'd lived at Mesa Blue she'd hardly glimpsed him.
Her optimism was dashed as she stopped in the elegant lobby to collect her mail. She said hello to the security guard, put her key into her mailbox, then sensed a presence approaching from behind-the unmistakable aura of Wyatt Madison.
'Hey, Phoebe.'
He sounded pretty cheerful. She guessed that meant he wasn't as hot and bothered around her as she was around him. She glanced over at him. He was still in his work clothes, apparently just getting home from the station. He had a plastic grocery sack, which he'd set down by his feet.
'Hello, Wyatt. How's your house-hunting going?'
'Haven't had much time for looking, but I'm supposed to go out with the real estate agent tomorrow.'
He didn't sound too enthused. 'Did you talk to Elise about buying her unit?' she asked, then wanted to bite her tongue. All she needed was for Wyatt to move into Mesa Blue permanently. Having him living next door for a few weeks was making her tense enough.
'I did, but she won't be ready to sell until the fall. My grandparents love me, but I don't think they'll want me underfoot for that long. Oh, look, here's a postcard from them. Greece.'
'I have one, too!' Phoebe announced, holding up the colorful card of Athens. 'How sweet of them to think of me.' She turned it over and read aloud:
''Dear Phoebe, we're having a wonderful time. I hope you and Wyatt are getting along. Please remind him to water the plants on the balcony and talk to the cactus. Love, Rolland and Helen.'' She turned to him. 'Wyatt, water the plants on the balcony and talk to the cactus.'
He laughed, then read his card. 'Mine says, 'Dearest Wyatt, we're having a wonderful time. If you're having any problems settling in, please ask Phoebe. She knows everything. Don't forget to water the plants and talk to the cactus-''
'What's the deal with the cactus?' Phoebe asked. 'I know Helen loves her plants, but I never heard her talk to them before.'
'She bought some new ones just before the trip, a couple of cacti. The lady who sold them to her said they would bloom if she talked nice to them.'
Phoebe laughed. 'I'm sorry I interrupted. What else does the card say?'
'That's it, just 'Love, Grammy and Granddad.''
'You call Helen 'Grammy'?' She couldn't suppress a chuckle at the thought of big, macho Wyatt calling
'What's wrong with that? What do you call your grandmother?'
Phoebe sighed. 'I never knew either of them. One lived in Denmark, so I never met her. The other I didn't see after my parents split up when I was a baby. But she remembered me. She left me her condo when she died.'
'I'm sorry. I forgot for a minute that you'd lost your grandmother. I shouldn't have been so glib.'
Phoebe shrugged, wishing she'd never brought up the subject of grandmothers. She'd always regretted that she hadn't made an effort to see her father's mother before the woman died. Her grandmother had sent an occasional letter, and usually a card with a few dollars tucked inside on Phoebe's birthday, and Phoebe had dutifully sent thank-you notes, but her mother hadn't encouraged communication even though her grandmother had obviously wanted it. Olga's bitterness toward her ex-husband colored her thinking.
Still, Phoebe had no business unloading any personal stuff onto Wyatt.
And he didn't have to be so damn sympathetic. It just made her like him more, and she didn't need any more reasons to be attracted to him. Wrong time, wrong man, she reminded herself.
'How was lunch?' she asked brightly, changing the subject.
He didn't answer right away.
'Was it that hard a question?' As she sorted through her bills, she peeked at him from the corner of her eye. He really did seem to be having trouble answering.
'Lunch was fine,' he said carefully. 'But some things did come up, and I need to talk to you about them.'
Uh-oh. 'You're not pleased with my job performance?'
'No, oh, you're doing a great job, Phoebe. You have a real talent for making people look their best on camera.'
'Thanks.'
'But I do need to talk to you.'
'Now?'
'I know it's been a long week, but I want to… go over a few things while they're fresh in my mind. It won't take long, I promise.' He reached into the plastic bag at his feet, pulled out a package of something, then shook it invitingly at her. 'Gourmet coffee?'
Sure enough, it was a half-pound of JamaicanBlueMountain, her favorite kind. She could smell it.
'I thought you didn't drink coffee.'
'I don't, but I got some to have on hand for guests.'
