always turn out to be four feet tall with overbearing mothers.”
“Josie!” Susannah laughed and kicked off her shoes. She put her stocking feet on the desk, noting lackadaisically that she had a run in her panty hose already, and leaned back in her chair to relax. “Do you mean to say you actually meet some of the men who call for me?”
Josie sniffed aloofly. “In the interest of science, that’s all. Somebody ought to do a study on guys who call television stations. It might as well be me. One of the perks of my job is getting your castoffs. It’s in my contract.”
“Yeah, right. I think my contract says I can’t date men who call here.”
“You don’t date anybody, honey,” Josie remarked. “’Cept old Roger, and he hardly counts.”
“What’s wrong with Roger?”
Josie shrugged. “Too nice.”
“Too nice?”
With a grin, Josie tapped cigarette ash into a seashell sitting on the desk. “You deserve more excitement. Want me to line up an appointment with this guy?” She wiggled the receiver. “Maybe his face matches his voice.”
“I doubt it. Better get rid of him.”
“Chicken. But you’re the boss.” Josie punched the hold button with one of her long, enameled fingernails. “Hello? Still there, sir? Good. Look, I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to locate Miss Atkins at the moment. I could...yes, I can take your name.”
Susannah closed her eyes and listened with only half an ear while Josie reached for a pad and pencil from her desk and began scribbling. “Will you spell that for me, please? S-A-N-T-O-R-I. Yes, I got it. Now, can I ask what this is in reference to, Mr. Santori? Who? From Tyler?”
Susannah sat up straight. “Tyler?”
Josie’s gaze met Susannah’s, communicating a new message altogether, and she said into the telephone, “Yes, I know Tyler is Miss Atkins’s hometown. Who? Oh, you mean Miss Atkins’s grandmother? Is something wrong?”
Susannah didn’t waste another instant. She reached for the receiver and took it from Josie’s hand. “Hello?” she said briskly as soon as she clamped it to her ear. “This is Susannah Atkins. Is my grandmother all right?”
A wonderfully melodic male voice said, “I thought you couldn’t come to the phone.”
“I’m here now. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said soothingly. “I’m butting in, that’s all. I think you ought to come home for Christmas.”
“Home? Why? Is my grandmother ill? Or—”
“Take it easy. She’s not sick. At least, not yet.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Susannah found she could hardly breathe. Her grandmother was the most important person in her life, and the thought of Rose sick or in trouble was horrifying. Susannah’s hand clutched the receiver with a clammy grip. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”
“Look, I don’t want you to get all upset, Miss Atkins, okay? Your grandmother’s not sick—at least she claims she isn’t. But...well, in my opinion, she hasn’t been up to snuff lately.”
“Oh, dear heaven.”
“It’s not bad,” the man assured her. “But she’s disappointed that you’re not coming home for the holidays, and I...well, I don’t believe she’s feeling as good as she pretends. I got to thinking—if it was me, I’d want somebody to call before I went away on a trip. And I’d want to check for myself. You’re going to a beach, I hear.”
Susannah frowned and tried to control her emotions. “My plane leaves tomorrow. I was going to see her when I got back, but—”
“Do you have time to drive out here this afternoon? You could take a look at her yourself before you go.”
“Let me check my book.”
“Your book?”
Most people did not understand Susannah’s total reliance on the small, leather-bound datebook she kept within reach at every waking moment. With her many appointments and her busy work schedule, Susannah’s life was very complicated. She had many obligations and responsibilities. What made things worse was her mental weakness concerning dates and times. Though talented in a hundred different ways, she absolutely could not keep her life on track without writing down every detail. Fortunately, Josie kept a duplicate book so that, between the two of them, Susannah ran on schedule.
But the man said peevishly, “You can’t squeeze in a couple of hours for your own grandmother?”
“Of course I can,” she retorted. But there were things to juggle, no doubt—like a public appearance at a department store that Susannah had promised to make that very afternoon. As she flipped open her datebook, her eye fell on the appointment at once.
Josie was checking her version of Susannah’s schedule, too. In an undertone, she said, “I’ll cancel the department store, if you want.”
“They’ll understand a family emergency.”
“But listen,” Josie said. “The store’s on your way to Tyler. Why not drop in, make the appearance a short one and buy yourself that bathing suit you need for your trip?”
“I’m not sure,” Susannah murmured uneasily.
“You could be in and out of the store in twenty minutes. I’ll go along and make sure it goes smoothly.”
“I really must get a bathing suit.”
“May I suggest a bikini?” said the dry male voice in her ear. “In pink, maybe.”
Susannah had forgotten that her voice was audible to her caller, but he probably hadn’t heard Josie’s side of the conversation. “Oh, sorry—”
“You look good in pink,” he continued sarcastically. “A pink bikini sounds like the perfect choice. It’ll make you forget all about your grandmother, I’m sure. Sorry to have bothered you, Miss—”
“Wait! That’s not it at all. I’m just checking my schedule. Of course I’ll come. I just have to make a quick stop along the way, that’s all.”
“For the bikini. All right, go ahead.” Tartly, he added, “The right bathing suit might do you a world of good, in fact.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“A lady as straitlaced as you seem on television—a lady who has to check her book before she goes home for a visit—well, that’s a lady who needs loosening up, I’d say. Get a hotpink bikini, Miss Atkins.”
He was probably right, Susannah thought. Maybe her life was pretty strict, and she had allowed herself to forget the things that were truly important—like grandmothers and bathing suits. She found herself nodding in agreement.
Besides, it was hard not to be seduced
