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days now, and this morning he made a barracuda look tame.”
    “Doesn't he always?” she grumbled.
    “Yes,” he conceded. “But if you had his secretary, it might give you ulcers as well.”
    She glanced at him as she went to the piano and sat down, flexing her fingers. “If he wants secretaries who decorate instead of type, that's his business. Just hush, Phil, will you? I'm sick of hearing about Blake!”
    She banged away at Rachmaninoff's Second Piano Concerto, while Phillip stared at her profile thoughtfully for a long time.

Chapter Four
    M aude had the housekeeper, buxom Mrs. Johnson, and the two little daily maids running in circles by late afternoon. It was almost comical, and Kathryn had to force herself not to giggle.
    “Don't put the urn of dried flowers
there
,” Maude wailed when one of the maids placed it in the entrance to the living room.
    Kathryn decided she had better go outside and keep out of the way.
    Phillip was just getting out of his small sports car as she emerged from the house. He hesitated for an instant when he saw Kathryn coming, then got the rest of the way out and closed the door.
    “What's the matter with you?” he asked cheerfully.
    “It's the dried flowers,” she explained enigmatically.
    Phillip blinked. “Have you been into Blake's whiskey, Kathryn?”
    She shook her head. “You had to be there to understand,” she told him. “Honestly, you'd think the head of state was coming. She's rearranged the furniture twice, and now she's going crazy over flowers. And just think, Phil,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Leeds can't even save the river!”
    He chuckled. “Probably not. Blake should be back soon,” he said, after a glance at his watch.
    Kathryn looked out over the sculptured garden with its cobblestone path leading through hedges to the concealed white gazebo. “I wonder what Miss Leeds looks like?” she murmured thoughtfully.
    “Vivian?” he asked, smiling. “The cover of a fashion magazine. She's an actress, you know, quite well-known already, too.”
    She felt ill. “Old?” she asked.
    “Twenty-five isn't old, sweet.” He laughed. “Blake can't be without a woman for long. He really can pick them.”
    She wanted to hit him. To scream. To do anything but stand there with a calm smile plastered to her face and pretend it didn't matter. Suddenly, terribly, it mattered. Blake was her…She stopped, frowning. Her
what?
    “Kathryn, you aren't listening,” Phillip said patiently. “I said, would you like to go into King's Fort with me and buy a new dress or two?”
    She looked up at him. “Whatever for?” she asked indignantly. “I don't dress in rags!”
    “Of course not,” he said, placating her. “But Maude suggested that you might like some new clothes since we're having guests.”
    She drew a deep, angry breath. “Put on my best feathers, you mean?” She thought about it, imagining an outfit daring enough to make even Blake take notice. A tiny smile touched her pink mouth. “All right. Take me someplace expensive. Saks, I think.”
    “Uh, Kathryn…” Phillip said.
    “Blake won't get the bill until next month,” she reminded him. “By then, I can be in St. Martin, or Tahiti, or Paris…”
    He chuckled. “All right, incorrigible girl, come on. We've got to hurry or we won't be here when Blake's guests arrive.”
    Kathryn didn't tell him, but that was just what she had in mind. The idea of greeting Vivian Leeds made her want to spend several days in town. She disliked the woman already, and she hadn't even met her.
    ***
    She left Phillip in a small, exotic coffee shop on the mall while she floated through the plush women's department in the exclusive shop, dreaming of Blake seeing her in one expensive dress after another. She'd show him! She'd be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and she'd make him stand back and take notice!
    But when she tried on one of the elegant dresses she'd picked out, all she saw in the mirror was a