Anything You Can Do(35)

Bailey threw her arms into the air. "So I always look awful, is that what you're saying?"

"Oh, now I get it," Paula drawled, staggering to her feet. "Come with me. I've got just the thing for you."

Thirty minutes later, hair fluffy from electric curlers, a brightly patterned scarf lending color to her suit, and soft shadows and mascara making her eyes large and bright, Bailey studied herself in the hall bathroom mirror.

The makeup was okay. She still looked like herself, but like the new, improved version. Trouble was, she felt like the same old Bailey inside. If she looked prettier, shouldn't she feel prettier?

Paula appeared in the mirror behind her, straightened the scarf, and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Now you just need to act more like a lady and Austin will be bowled over by your new look and new outlook."

"What makes you think this has anything to do with Austin?" Was she so obvious?

"Oh, just coincidentally the morning after you make love with a man, you suddenly start worrying about your appearance."

Bailey's leg muscles seemed to wilt, and she sank onto the edge of the bathtub. She was being blatantly silly. This wouldn't do at all. She had to regain control, approach and deal with this strange attraction in a rational, intelligent manner.

She stood, leaned over the sink, turned on the water, and grabbed a bar of soap.

"What are you doing?" Paula snatched the soap away from her.

"Getting ready to wash my face so I can go to work."

"Bailey, what's the matter with you? What's so horrible about being in love? I always enjoy it myself, even if it only lasts for a few minutes—until I get to know the guy with the great smile who turns out to have the personality of a cardboard cutout."

"Don't be absurd. How could I possibly love a man who argues with everything I say?" Bailey started to brush past her friend, to go to her own bathroom and wash her face, but Paula grabbed her arm.

"Right. Making love with men you don't care about is something you do on a regular basis. Bailey Russell, you seem to forget you're talking to someone who remembers you from pre-training-pants days. So cut the garbage."

Bailey sighed then shrugged, deciding to admit to half the truth. "I saw myself in the mirror this morning and I didn't like it. Maybe I'm having a midlife crisis a little early, that's all. As for being in love, you, of all people, should know that's something I don't do very well."

"You haven't practiced much, that's for sure." Paula plopped onto the side of the tub, patting the area beside her. "Sit here and talk to me."

Reluctantly Bailey joined her. "What's to talk about? I think I've always been a realistic person, capitalized on my strong points, worked around the weaknesses. While I'm a fairly good attorney and a decent runner, I'd have made a lousy opera singer. We all lack abilities in certain areas. Relationships with parties of the opposite sex is one of my areas of deficit."

"And just why do you suppose that is?"

At least Paula hadn't come across with any reassuring cliches.

"How do I know why? Why don't I have a voice suitable for the opera? Why can't I dance?"

"Think, Bailey. Use that brain you're so proud of. Consider that you're a beautiful, successful, bright woman."

"Okay, now you're getting into the con job. If I'm beautiful, how come men never ask me out? No, Paula, I'm not pretty like you, and I don't know what to say to interest a man. I gave up trying a long time ago, and I will not make a fool—a bigger fool—of myself with Austin. Now, I'm going to wash my face and go to work, and the subject is closed."

She stood up, but Paula's voice stopped her from leaving.

"No, you're not pretty like me. I'm cute. You're drop-dead gorgeous in spite of the way you dress and chop your hair. The reason men don't ask you out is because you're obnoxious."

Bailey whirled in amazement. “I am not!"

Paula shrugged. "Okay. Will you settle for competitive and intimidating? What man could possibly feel like he's a match for you except maybe Austin?"

"Austin and I are natural enemies. We can't be together five minutes without fighting."

"Not quite true," Paula disagreed. "What you two do is compete, something that's as natural as breathing for both of you. But lighten up a little. Try to hold it down to ninety percent of the time. Play nice once in a while."