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we be anywhere near each other?”
    Georgie waved his hand in front of my eyes. “Hello? Tickets to the premiere? Q and A afterward?”
    “Yeah, right. Like he’s going to see me in the audience. I’m going to have some aura glowing that makes me stand out from hundreds of people. And he’s going to immediately forget about Charlene Dumont or whoever else he happens to be fucking at the moment.”
    “You know, someone with a name as perky as yours shouldn’t be so pessimistic. Besides, you’re getting a makeover.” He tapped on the pad with the pen. “On the list. I say we schedule it before the premiere. In fact, let’s make a weekend of it in the city. We’ll book a room, get makeovers, go shopping, the whole nine yards. Hell, if Danny  Masters doesn’t notice you, at least a hundred other guys will. Either way, you can’t lose.”
    “So you’re saying no one will notice me if I don’t have a makeover?”
    Georgie rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t it by your design to go unnoticed, Sunny? Your solitary confinement is over. Get your ass back in gear. It’s time.”
    He had a point.

    CHAPTER THREE
    Danny Masters

    H ER PARTING WORDS   to him were simply, “Call me.”
    Charlene left just after eight a.m. to fly back to New York to resume her film obligations, and Danny decided to go to the office early rather than linger in the cavernous house by himself. They hadn’ttalked much during her brief visit; rather, they mostly had sex until they fell asleep, exhausted.
    “What does that mean?” he had asked three years ago, the first time she had spent the night and leftwith those same parting words.
    “What do you mean, what does that mean? It means   call me . On the phone.”
    “Yeah, but do you expect me to call you at a certain time of the day or a certain day of the week? Is this a courtesy call? An about-last-night call? Am I calling as a friend or as your lover? I need thesethings spelled out for me.”
    Charlene had given Danny a patronizing look. “Why do these things always have to be socomplicated?” It was a question that seemed not to be directed at him, but rhetorical in nature. “It meansthat I had a wonderful time last night, that I like the sound of your voice to keep me  company when wecan’t be in the same room together, and if you feel so inclined, you can pick up your phone and talk so that I can hear it. And since when are friends and lovers an either-or? Why can’t you be representing yourselfas both when you call me?”
    “I just want to make sure I know where I stand,” he had responded. “Guys are afraid of fucking up,you know.”
    “No,   you’re   afraid of fucking up.” They’d been on two dates, and already she knew him so well.
    “So be it. You know,” he said after a quick beat, “you can call me too. You don’t have to waitaround for me.”
    “First of all, I don’t wait around for any man. Second, I don’t chase men, and I don’t make the firstcall. It’s just a little personal insurance for my peace of mind.”
    “It’s a power play,” said Danny.
    He’d watched Charlene study him intently at that moment. “Do you write such fantastic argumentsbecause of your need to instigate one yourself?”
    He had often wondered this same thing. But he also knew that with Charlene Dumont he was goingto be constantly battling for power, and he had already wished it wasn’t the case. And it wasn’t even thathe wanted power over her—no, he just wanted to be on the same level.
    So when Charlene left him with those very same words this morning, those two words that definedtheir relationship as nothing more than a never-ending game of “chicken,” he felt weary. And they were asunclear to him this morning as they were the very first time she’d said them to him.
    When Danny got to the office, Dez was already at her desk sorting his mail, wearing her phoneheadset and  talking. The image always conjured a switchboard operator from the fifties and