Tame An Older Man

Bill's eyes lit up. 'I'll just do that.' Phoebe sighed. Maybe she'd better go find Frannie and see what was up. She packed up the ice chest, said her good-nights and went upstairs. Then she threw on a long T-shirt over her suit and headed back down.

'Come in,' Frannie called cheerily, when Phoebe knocked.

Phoebe entered. Frannie didn't sound upset. That was good. She found Frannie in the dining room playing cards. With Wyatt.

'Oh, it's you,' Frannie said, sounding supremely disappointed. She threw down her cards in disgust. 'Oh, Phoebe, how could you?'

'How could I what?'

'Invite that she-devil mother of yours into our home, then throw her at my Bill! After I worked so hard to get him!'

'But my mother's only here for-' Phoebe saved her breath. Frannie ran from the room sobbing. Three cats trotted after her down the hall. A door slammed.

'Well, that didn't go too well,' Wyatt said. 'Sounds like the Jersey Blondes are breaking hearts all over the place. What happened to Jeff?'

Jersey Blondes? 'He threw me over for someone younger.'

'Lot of that going around.'

'Oh, Wyatt. I am not interested in Jeff,' she felt compelled to say. She wasn't into playing games, no matter what her mother advised.

'Could have fooled me.'

So, he'd seen her performance, despite the fact that he'd never joined the party. 'You were spying on me from your balcony,' she concluded.

'You were cavorting in public for all the world to see. I could hardly help noticing your behavior-or your new swimsuit.'

'I was humoring my mother. She bought it for me.'

'That figures.'

Phoebe instantly felt protective. 'Don't say bad things about my mother. She's very sweet, just a little misguided.'

'Sounds like she's a home-wrecker.'

'Bill and Frannie aren't married. And let's not forget, Bill had a hand in this. He could have discouraged my mother, but he didn't.'

'She looks like you, so who could blame him?'

Phoebe wasn't certain if she was being complimented or insulted. But the next moment she realized it was the latter.

'How do you and your mother manage to get your hair exactly the same shade? It's uncanny.'

'I'll have you know, I'm a natural blonde!'

'How could I know that? You wouldn't let me turn the lights on.'

'Ohh!' She was so startled by his rudeness that that was all she could manage for a few moments. Finally she summoned the wherewithal to leave. 'I hope you and Frannie have a wonderful evening together!' She slammed the door behind her.

* * *

'Mama, don't scrunch up your face like that,' Phoebe said. 'You'll end up with white creases.'

'I can't help it,' Olga said, trying to relax her face as Phoebe applied foundation to it. 'And I think you might have just accused me of having wrinkles.'

They were in a guest dressing room on the 'Heads Up' set. As if Phoebe weren't cranky enough, given how her life had been going lately, she had to make up a total of eight women this morning-and the first, Olga, had a ticklish face.

Everybody was mad at her. Neither Wyatt nor Frannie would talk to her. Elise and Daisy didn't exactly shun her, but they weren't behaving like the most loyal of friends. They blamed her for throwing away what she had with Wyatt, and every time either of them tried to talk to her about it, she ended up just changing the subject because she couldn't make them understand how deeply Wyatt's ridicule had cut her.

Her mother was talking to her, but barely. They'd had a huge fight the night after the pool party. Olga had painstakingly explained that she hadn't realized Bill's girlfriend was Frannie, that neither Frannie nor Bill had given her the slightest indication they were together, so she hadn't seen the harm. Bill had made her feel feminine and desirable, even if the flirtation hadn't gone anywhere.

Phoebe had responded by telling Olga she would be Jane Jasmine's most spectacular failure. She'd immediately apologized, but Olga's feelings had been hurt. They'd been walking on eggshells around each other ever since.

Even she and Richie had argued. She'd forgotten she was supposed to take notes yesterday for a class Richie had to miss, and she'd skipped it.

Frannie and Bill also weren't speaking to each other.

Even Kelly and Kurt weren't talking, which had nothing to do with Phoebe, except she was beginning to feel like her entire life was a minefield.

Olga giggled, causing Phoebe to smear her eyeliner. 'Mama!'

'Sorry, sweetie. I can't help it. Remember when you were little and I used to make up your face for dress-up? You used to giggle and say it tickled.'

'I was five years old.' She blotted away the mistake and started over. 'Those were fun times, though,' she admitted, grasping the olive branch Olga had extended. Her mother had instilled in her a love for cosmetics, grooming and pretty clothes. She still loved all those things. But her attraction to such frivolities had caused people to assume her head was empty of anything weightier.

Phoebe finished with Olga and sent her to the Green Room to wait. A seemingly endless stream of women followed. Phoebe found herself trying to guess which ones were the ones who'd succeeded in finding Mr. Right, and which ones were still looking. By her sixth makeup job, she'd figured it out. The ones who'd found mates weren't the prettiest or the thinnest or the youngest. They were the ones who carried themselves with a quiet confidence. Their smiles were genuine, and they didn't express concern about whether the TV camera would add ten pounds.

They liked themselves, and they didn't give a rat's ears what anybody else thought of them. One of them mentioned she worked in nuclear medicine. She was no dummy, and she didn't hide the fact. In fact, she wore horn-rimmed glasses that made her look like a librarian. Yet she was quite attractive in her own way. It was her smile, and the twinkle in her eye.

'Oh, my, you've made me look like a movie star!' the woman exclaimed when she regarded the final results in the mirror.

'The studio lights will tone it down some.'

'I wasn't complaining. My fiance will be in the audience, and I can't wait for him to see me like this!'

Phoebe's final pre-on-air task was to do Jane Jasmine's makeup. She looked much as she did in the publicity picture printed on the back cover of 2001 Ways to Wed. She was about forty-five, Phoebe guessed, and she wore her dark hair in a no-nonsense, short and curly style. Her skin was flawless but her features were too sharp for her to be considered a classic beauty. She even had a few gray hairs, which she didn't bother to color.

'I'm not sure whether I should shake your hand or punch you out,' Phoebe joked as she settled Jane into the chair and tied a smock over her.

'Oh?'

'One of my best friends is engaged because of your book. My other best friend is alone and completely miserable, despite having dutifully followed your advice.'

Jane was immediately sympathetic. 'Results sometimes take a while. Do you want me to talk to her?'

Phoebe shook her head. 'I tried to get her on the show, but she wouldn't do it.'

'So how about you?' Jane asked. 'Did you read the book?'

'Cover to cover. Just for my friend, though.'