Tame An Older Man

Chapter 7

Her old movies could wait, Phoebe decided. Though on principle she didn't like employers to monopolize her free time, Wyatt was paying her a ridiculously high salary for part-time work, so she couldn't begrudge him an occasional after-hours meeting. After all, she had skipped the staff lunch meeting today.

'I'll be over in a few minutes,' she said, feeling a small surge of energy mixed with something akin to dread. It wasn't that she didn't like Wyatt. She did, probably too much. The idea that he'd bought that coffee for her… well, it was just nice, that was all, and it made her want to please him.

But he made her tense. Since that kiss, the desire had crackled between them whenever they were within twenty feet of each other. She would have to let that go, she decided. Surely it was simply a matter of their getting more accustomed to each other.

Phoebe changed into comfortable clothes, filed her mail and listened to her phone messages. She wasn't too surprised to get a panicky-sounding message from her mother. Olga considered it a major crisis if she broke a nail, and she called Phoebe almost every day in a tizzy over something or other.

'Addy, call me right away!' Olga said breathlessly. She never called Phoebe by her 'Hollywood' name, even though Olga was the one who'd encouraged Adelaide Phelps to morph into Phoebe Lane. 'I have to talk to you.'

Phoebe shook her head and rewound the tape. She would call Olga back once she got done with Wyatt.

When she stepped out her front door a few minutes later, the coffee was already brewing at Wyatt's. She could smell it all the way down the hall, and it drew her in like a siren song.

Wyatt let her in, and she immediately took note of his own casual attire-jeans faded almost to white and another T-shirt. Had she actually tried to tell herself she didn't like those clothes on him? He looked so approachable. Huggable. She almost wished for another broken pipe so she could see that T-shirt clinging to every muscle-

No. She was going to learn to enjoy him and appreciate him as a friend, neighbor and coworker. Nothing more.

'The coffee's almost ready,' he said by way of greeting. 'We can sit out on the balcony if you want.'

She nodded. 'Yes, that sounds nice.'

He poured her a mug of the fragrant brew, himself a glass of skim milk-was he a health nut?-and wandered out to the terrace, which looked like nothing so much as a rain forest with all the fronds and vines. All appeared to be thriving.

'Looks like these plants aren't suffering under your care,' she observed.

'I water them first thing every morning.'

'These cactus plants aren't blooming.' She leveled a frown of disapproval at him. 'Are you talking to them?'

'Of course. I'm not taking any chances. I sweet-talk them twice a day-or face being disowned.'

'I seriously doubt Rolland or Helen would disown you. They think you walk on water and carry stardust in your pockets.'

Wyatt laughed, as they found chairs, a nice, safe distance apart. 'If I've turned out well at all, it's their doing. I was not exactly your basic well-behaved, well-adjusted boy.'

'I'd never guess that. According to them, you were a perfect child.'

'They must have a lot of suppressed memories.'

Enough, Phoebe thought. This conversation was too personal, too intimate. She set her coffee on the glass-top table, opened her notebook, took a pen from the bib pocket of her overalls, and prepared to be a good little employee.

'So what went on at the staff meeting?' she asked brightly.

Again, that hesitation from Wyatt.

'I ended up not going to Vito's for lunch,' he finally said. 'Instead, I followed you.'

Phoebe suddenly felt as if she couldn't gulp in enough breath. She was not going to fly off the handle, she coached herself. Wyatt must have a logical reason for following her. 'W-Why?' she managed to stutter.

'I was worried about you. I know it's not my place to be your watchdog-'

'It certainly isn't,' she couldn't help saying.

'But after what happened on Monday-'

'Please, can we forget about that?'

'It just occurred to me that you're very vulnerable. A woman living alone, and not just any woman but a TV star-'

'Used-to-be TV star.'

'Still, you make an easy target for any wacko nut-case who's seen 'Skin Deep.''

'So you're planning to follow me around for the rest of my life to make sure no one makes a pass at me?'

'No! It's just that, the way you rush away from the station each day, obviously with someplace to go, and the fact that you're so mysterious about it-'

'It's my private life!' It was all she could do to keep her voice low enough that all of Mesa Blue wouldn't hear her.

'I know, and I apologize, but I started worrying that you'd gotten involved in something bad, maybe something you couldn't handle-'

'Well, if you followed me, you know the horrible truth now,' she said, feeling almost violated. Going to college was nothing to be ashamed of. She knew that. But it was part of her dream for the future, and after seeing other high-flown, much-bandied-about dreams shattered, she now preferred to keep hers very private.

'Is he going to marry you?' Wyatt asked quietly.

'What?' Had she missed some vital part of the conversation? 'Who?'

'The guy. On the library steps?'

Phoebe almost laughed out loud. 'You mean Richie?'

'Yeah, Richie-whatever. Isn't that what we're talking about?'

'Not that I knew of.'

'Look, I know it's one of my business-'

'Damn straight.' Too restless to continue sitting, she jumped up and paced to the balcony railing.

'-but if you're determined to get married, surely you can find a better prospect than a beanpole college kid barely old enough to shave.'

Try as she might, Phoebe couldn't make sense of what Wyatt was saying. 'Where did you get the notion I wanted to get married? That is the last thing I want or need right now.'

He joined her at the railing, making her wish she'd stayed in her nice, safe chair. She couldn't think straight with him so close, smelling so good. Even the way he breathed was sexy.

'I know it says in that book that you shouldn't broadcast your intentions,' he said, almost gently, 'that it makes you look desperate, but-'

'What-' she started to ask, but then realized she knew exactly what book. While she'd been changing clothes last Monday night, he'd been snooping on her bookshelf.

'2001 Ways to Wed,' he said, confirming her suspicions. 'Don't bother denying you've read it, I saw it in your apartment, and I saw you'd made notes in the margins.'

She was stunned, insulted, and maybe a little relieved at the way he'd constructed an alternative reality from the little bits of information he'd gathered from her life.

'How dare you presume…' But she stopped there and changed tack. 'Guess there's just no fooling you, Wyatt Madison.' What else could she say? If she told him the book was for Daisy's sake, not hers, she would be violating Daisy's privacy.

Anyway, it was safer if he thought she was husband-hunting. For one, he'd definitely give her a wide berth. No confirmed bachelor wanted to be trapped or manipulated into walking down the aisle.

'I know Jane Jasmine recommends taking classes to meet the man of your dreams,' he said, 'but I don't think