Tame An Older Man

Jane nodded wisely. 'Not looking for a husband yourself, huh?'

'No. But then this man came along-'

'-when you least expected one. I'll bet you were quietly going about your business, engrossed in your own highly interesting, well-directed life, and there he was.'

'Well, yes.'

'That is precisely my primary message. Men flock around when you work on yourself as a person, when you focus on your own goals and dreams.' Jane smiled. 'Although, I'm guessing you've never had a problem with men not flocking.'

'Don't smile, please… Oh, I manage to scare them off one way or another, but usually it's intentional.'

'Not this time?'

Phoebe shook her head, fighting back the sting of tears. 'First off, he saw your book on my shelf and assumed I was husband-hunting.'

'Uh-oh.'

'We got over that, finally, but then I got up the nerve to open up to him and share my dreams and goals, and, well, it was just awful. He laughed.'

'What kind of dreams and goals?' Jane asked.

Phoebe was still nervous when it came to honesty about her career aspirations. But she forced herself to say it. 'I'm going to become a biochemist and start my own cosmetics company.'

'Oh, that's marvelous! But I know why the guy laughed.'

'Because he thinks I'm dumb?'

'Because you surprised him, that's all. You'd better get used to the fact that no one thinks of a beautiful, blond TV star when you say 'biochemist.' You also made him nervous, honey. Your looks are intimidating enough. Combine that with brains, and you're one scary package. The man would have to have quite a strong sense of self-esteem to stand up to that.'

'Wyatt doesn't lack self-esteem,' Phoebe murmured.

'You mean Wyatt Madison? The producer?'

Phoebe wanted to sew her lips shut. 'Yes.'

'You're in love with him?' Jane asked gently.

Phoebe nodded. She did love Wyatt, and she had for a long time. She just hadn't wanted to admit it to herself.

'So what did you do when he laughed?' Jane seemed fascinated with the whole thing-like an avid biologist dissecting a frog. And Phoebe found herself wanting to spill her guts. She supposed that was what made Jane a good therapist.

'I got mad. And I left. And I… It sounds so stupid now. I put on a blue lame swimsuit and flirted with a twenty-two-year-old.'

To her credit, Jane didn't criticize.

'And what did Wyatt do?'

'He got mad, too.'

'Uh-huh.'

'And he thought I bleached my hair.'

Jane gasped. 'The wretch. Forget him. I'm sure there are lots of men out there who would assume, without you telling them, that you're a natural blond.'

Phoebe had to laugh at herself. 'It was the way he said it, but never mind.'

'Honey, if he laughed at you, it was because you've been hiding your intellect from him, so your announcement surprised him, that's all. You're the one who didn't make him understand. Sit him down and calmly make him understand who you really are. If he can't love that person, then fine, you gave it your best shot. But don't throw a good thing out the window just because he reacted badly the first time you let him see what was behind those pretty blue eyes.'

Phoebe was silent after that, digesting what Jane had said. Maybe she'd overreacted to Wyatt's less-than- perfect behavior. Maybe, she thought, she'd deliberately let the budding relationship self-destruct. Because maybe, deep down, she didn't feel worthy of a man like Wyatt.

* * *

Wyatt watched his show unfold like an orchid-or maybe a Venus flytrap, he amended. This was certainly the most sensational show he'd ever done-leaning toward Jerry Springer. He'd vowed he would never resort to melodrama or faked fistfights to attract viewers, but the conflict evolving on the set was all too real. Riveting, but it made him uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable especially because he could see Phoebe on the opposite side of the stage, watching intently. She was concerned about her mother, he realized, as well she should be. Jane Jasmine did not pull her punches.

'You're afraid of something, Olga,' Jane said. 'I can tell by the colors you wear, the way you hold yourself, even the way you smile. You're hiding the real Olga Phelps. You are so afraid of someone seeing the real you that you have to hide behind this glamorous persona. You have no trouble getting a first date, I bet.'

'No, none at all,' Olga said with a brittle smile. 'But after one or two dates the guys disappear into the woodwork.'

Olga's smile faded. 'After they get to know me, I guess.'

'No, that's not it. They can't get to know you because you don't let them. They try to crack through your veneer, and you probably turn the conversation right back to the man.'

'You say in your book to show an interest in the man's work,' Olga said defensively.

'I said cultivate an interest. Learn about it so you can have meaningful conversations. That doesn't mean constantly stroking his ego and treating your own goals and interests as insignificant.'

Olga suddenly burst into tears. 'But I don't have any goals and interests. Except to get married. That's all I've ever wanted.'

Jane reached out and squeezed Olga's hand. 'We're going to work on that.'

Wyatt kept his gaze on Phoebe. She had one hand over her mouth and the other tightly wrapped around herself, as if she had to physically restrain herself from coming to her mother's rescue.

'What do you like to do,' Jane asked, 'that has nothing to do with men?'

'Well,' Olga said in a halting voice, 'I make wreaths. I brought one with me today, but the producer wouldn't let me bring it on.'

Kelly interrupted. 'Let's have a look at this wreath!'

'After this commercial break,' Kurt put in. He and Kelly had started holding hands during one of Jane's mini- counseling sessions. Wyatt suspected something she'd said had resonated with them.

They cut to commercial, and Kelly immediately let him have it. 'Wyatt! Why didn't you let Phoebe's nice mother bring her wreath onto the show?'

Wyatt threw up his hands. 'Fine. Never mind that it has nothing to do with anything we're talking about. Bring on the wreath.'

He turned away and bumped right into Phoebe.

'Sorry,' they said together. Then they just looked at each other for a long, searing moment.

'Phoebe!' Phyllis called. 'We need touch-ups.' With a nod to Wyatt, she scurried onto the set, powder and brush in hand. He thought she'd been about to say something to him, and he wondered what that was.

Wyatt fetched the wreath, giving it a closer look on the way back to the set. Olga had made it for Phoebe, he realized. It held a dozen or more tiny mementos of Phoebe's life-all related to her TV career. Apparently Wyatt wasn't the only one to have pigeonholed Phoebe.

'Fifteen seconds,' the director announced. The set buzzed with frenetic activity, then the cameras rolled again.

'I made it for my daughter,' Olga explained, when Jane asked about the wreath. 'She played Vanessa Vance on 'Skin Deep,' if you remember that show.'

'And she's backstage,' Kelly said, practically bubbling over. 'Can we bring her on?'