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had changed into a beautifully cut suit and a white silk shirt open at the collar. He cut a very dashing figure. I later found out that he loved shopping at expensive men’s stores in Beverly Hills. This was certainly not some off-the-rack suit. He looked elegant and every bit the star.
    Phyllis still had on her underwear, although she had completed her makeup and donned her wig. I sat quietly while Phyllis scanned her correspondence and Karen rearranged some of the accessories to her satisfaction.
    Through the speaker in the dressing room we listened as Warde went through his act. I perked up, surprised to hear a beautiful tenor voice as he began “On a Clear Day.” I wondered why he had never made it in the big time. He had no doubt been extremely handsome twenty years earlier and still looked good.
    After about twenty minutes, Phyllis put her papers down. Evidently that was the signal to get moving.
    “Robin, will you hand me Phyllis’s costume?” Karen asked as she selected a pair of gloves from the array on the dressing table. “It’s there in the closet.”
    When I handed over the sequined dress, I understood why Phyllis waited until the last minute to put it on—it must have weighed twenty pounds. Once Phyllis was dressed, Karen gave her the matching gloves and the famous prop cigarette holder. Warde was nearing the end of his act, and I trailed Phyllis and Karen down the stairs and stood in the wings while he took his bows and the stage manager introduced Phyllis.
    “C’mon,” Karen said, once Phyllis was onstage. “Let’s sit out front and watch the show. We don’t want to go back up to the suite.”
    Oh, yeah. Just the idea of sitting in a room with Warde for the next forty-five minutes gave me the willies. Karen led the way out a side door and we found some seats toward the back.
    As we watched Phyllis onstage, I laughed so hard that I gasped for breath. Karen chuckled occasionally.
    “Don’t you like her act?” I managed to ask.
    “Yeah,” Karen answered with a quick smile, “but I’ve heard it a couple hundred times.”
    When it ended, we slipped backstage to escort Phyllis up to the suite. Phyllis ordered dinner for all of us. I was glad since I had already realized the $10 per diem wasn’t going to cover much if I had to eat in hotels.
    We finished dinner, went through the second show and headed for home. The limo dropped Karen and me off at the hotel before it took Phyllis and Warde to the apartment. Karen came to my room and even though it was late, we settled in to talk. Karen had worked for Phyllis for over a year. She originally got the job when her friend, Ruth, started as Phyllis’s secretary. Ruth had quit after only a short time; she had no patience with Warde.
    “So, did Phyllis get Ruth through an agency?” I asked.
    “No, Ruth is from New York. She’s a friend of Phyllis’s lawyer. I think you’re the first secretary Phyllis got through an agency.”
    “How do entertainers usually get their secretaries?”
    Karen shrugged. “All I know is that Phyllis always found someone who knew someone who wanted a job. The housekeeper’s niece or something like that. It never worked out. Take Louise, for instance—the one that left in New Orleans. She was a great secretary but hated to travel. She got ulcers. The one before that loved traveling and being Phyllis Diller’s secretary, but she didn’t want to work. One day I discovered she was throwing all the mail in the wastebasket. I told Phyllis and that was the end of her. The one before her was real young. The only thing she wanted was to go to bed with Perry. So, anyway,” Karen concluded, “Phyllis decided to go to an agency and get a professional.”
    I stopped myself just in time from asking who that was. She was talking about me!
    “I couldn’t believe it tonight when I went downstairs and the doorman told me you had already left!” I said.
    “Phyllis likes punctuality.”
    “Really?” I said, thinking of the