Anything You Can Do(49)

"You know what they say, better a nut than a lawyer." Paula lay stretched out on her bed with Samantha resting on her stomach. Neither of them looked unduly concerned.

Bailey sank to the floor in a cross-legged posture. "I never heard anybody say that," she argued.

"You did now. Sorry I interrupted just when you were getting close to a little activity behind closed doors instead of out in the open."

Bailey felt herself blush as Paula giggled.

"Don't change the subject," Bailey ordered. "Who followed you home and why?"

Paula folded her arms behind her head. "Lennie was his name. He was the oddest little guy. Balding, glasses, kind of meek, and he gushed on and on about how wonderful I am." She turned toward Bailey and frowned. "I shouldn't make fun of him. He was really kind of sad. But when I tried to leave, he grabbed my arm. Said I should come home with him and meet his mother. Shades of Psycho!"

"He grabbed you?" Bailey sat bolt-upright. "He physically assaulted you then followed you home?"

"Don't come all unglued. He took my arm, released it when the waiter came over, and then I think I saw him when I left the last bar, and maybe again in the parking lot here. But I wouldn't swear to it." She paused then added, "Anyway, he's no taller than I am, so how many problems can he cause?"

Bailey groaned. "Do you want something to drink? I need a refill. This seems to be turning into a two-cola evening."

Paula sat up, holding Samantha in her arms and swinging her feet to the floor. "I'll go with you, and we can see if Lennie's in the parking lot. By the way, you didn't ask about eight o'clock. He was terrific. Good looking, great bod, great job—an airline pilot."

Bailey took two sodas from the refrigerator and handed one to Paula. "So what are you doing home this early if he was so great? Did he have a nine o'clock?"

"Of course not," Paula answered, crossing the living room to the front window and peeking cautiously between the mini blinds.

Bailey curled into an armchair. "So tell me about your pilot," she invited as Paula flopped onto the sofa.

"Pretty," Paula answered, focusing her attention on Samantha, who quickly resumed her spot on Paula's stomach.

"You said that already."

"Did I say he had a great bod?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Nice guy. Bright. I'll probably go out with him again."

"But?" Bailey supplied.

"Well, you couldn't exactly say the sparks flew."

She rolled her head to the side and gave Bailey a sheepish grin.” When I left, I thought it was at least nine-thirty or ten, but it was only eight-thirty. Maybe it'll get better, though."

Bailey nodded. She'd come to the private conclusion that those blasted "sparks" Paula mentioned were fickle creatures, coming of their own volition, totally uninfluenced by the decrees of mere mortals.

As though Paula read her thoughts, her smile became impish. "But you don't seem to be having any problem with sparks. Did you shower together?"

"Certainly not!" She touched her still damp hair. "I showered before he got here. We were discussing—" She halted in midsentence. The merger, like everything else in a law firm, was considered a confidential topic. Of course, secretaries tended to know as much about the business as their bosses. Still, Paula hadn't mentioned the subject, and she hesitated to bring it up, just in case. "We were discussing business," she finished lamely. That was a rotten deal, not being able to talk to her best friend about her problems. "I'd just come back from a run. And you'll never guess what I saw!"

She seized on the story of Candy and Alvin under the bridge with delight, recognizing a great diversion when she found one. Drawing out the tale, avoiding her personal feelings, Bailey soon had Paula wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"So instead of writing letters," Bailey concluded, "maybe you should run into cars until you find Prince Charming. Or, to be totally accurate, let him run into you."

Suddenly she felt uncomfortable. From the sober look that crossed Paula's face, she knew her friend felt the same unease.

"Let him run into you," Paula repeated, sitting upright.

"Coincidence," Bailey protested weakly, taking a deep gulp from her soft drink. This could turn into a three-cola evening.

"If you ask me, it sounds a little suspicious."