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have liked what he was reading.
    “Look,” Daphne said, with her usual impatience. “Do you want me to help or not?”
    Jessibelle didn’t. “I’ve got it covered,” she said. “But thanks for the offer.”
    Daphne’s eyebrows shot up, and she seemed to catch her breath. “Like you can find something decent to wear?”
    “I already have,” Jessibelle told her. “At the Jolie Femme . I’m just thinking about it.”
    “You? The Jolie Femme ?” She shook her head, and abandoned her campaign. “Well, don’t say I didn’t try to help.”
    As Daphne headed toward the big glass door, Gabe stood up and turned to look at her. Daphne, almost at the door, paused and looked at Gabe. Or at least in the direction of where Gabe was standing.
    And then, like the lizard capable of changing its skin, Daphne transformed. Suddenly her expression exuded charm and friendliness. Not only did she look beautiful physically, she radiated beauty like it sprang from an internal source.
    “You look familiar,” she said, speaking to the air where Gabe stood. “Have we met?”
    Jessibelle’s heart pounded and she froze. Could Daphne see Gabe? Daphne was not supposed to be able to see Gabe. Gabe belonged to Jessibelle. He was her illusion. Not Daphne’s.
    Wait. Jessibelle blew out her breath. Even if Gabe were real, she had no rights to him. No right to feel this . . . jealousy. Because that’s what it was. Jealousy. Strong and dark green.
    She hated herself.
    Gabe watched Daphne, staring at her face for a few seconds, and then looking at her breasts, her slim waist, her white shoes with the elegant high heels. Then his gaze returned to her face.
    She looked slightly bewildered by his examination, but her projection of genuine warmth held solidly in place.
    “I don’t think we know each other,” Gabe said.
     
    · · · · ·
     
    After Daphne had left the office, Jessibelle rushed over to Gabe. “How come she could see you?”
    And, worse, how come Jessibelle felt jealous about it? Where had this unexpected feeling come from?
    “Everybody can see me,” he said, speaking calmly. “I told you, I’m grounded.”
    “I thought that was just for a day?”
    “For twenty-four hours.” He lifted her wrist to look at her watch.
    Jessibelle felt the solid grip of his hand on her wrist, felt the warmth of his skin soothe into hers.
    “I can see him,” Bobbi said, as she neared the door on her way out. “He looks great to me. I’d keep him.”
    What? Confusion flickered through Jessibelle’s senses and she felt her jaw drop. How could Bobbi see him?
    “Yes, you should keep me,” Gabe said, still holding her wrist. His lips quirked into that smile of his. “You were jealous.” He let go of her.
    She felt the break in physical contact . . . felt like she’d been set adrift. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she answered. “That’s impossible.”
    “Why? Because you think I’m not real?” That same smile again. “Or because you’re still in love with Rodney?”
    Rodney? Jessibelle blinked. She’d forgotten about Rodney.
    “You’ve already forgotten about him. That’s good. We’re making progress.” He bent quickly, kissed her cheek, and left, letting in a blast of the fresh spring air and leaving her alone in the office.
    And wondering.
    Had any of this really happened? Had Daphne and Bobbi really been here? And seen Gabe?
    Not possible, she decided.
    Then she stopped, and listened to her heart, and realized something had changed inside her. Her intense feelings for Rodney had gone away.
    Jessibelle was smiling, and it felt odd. The Rodney melancholy had lifted. She felt strange, like she had peeled off a heavy coat and she felt light.
    She started her work, and as the day progressed, she changed her mind half a dozen times. Would she really go to the Jolie Femme ? And then suddenly it was four-thirty and Bobbi arrived to take over for the evening shift.
    “I like your new boyfriend,” she said.
    “He’s not my