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to one of her least favorite men fell away, shriveled to nothing, the instant Toph stared Zack down. And zapped right along with it, her discomfort in his presence.
    Thank you, Toph Dunham. Janey fervently prayed the anti-Zack effect would last forever.
    The noisy coffee grinder made conversation impossible, but as the water hissed through the filter, they were left with no excuse for silence. Zack seemed determined not to leave the room, and Toph wasn’t exactly bubbling over with explanations about why he’d stopped by.
    So Janey filled the dead-air time. She babbled about one of her favorite subjects—Rachel and her activities.
    Toph seemed to relax, and even paid attention. “I didn’t know Rachel liked Gilbert and Sullivan.”
    “Please don’t tell Cynthia. Rach’s embarrassed about it. Not cool for a middle schooler, and she doesn’t want any of her friends to know. I had no idea how hard it is to stay in step with the popular kids.”
    Toph’s smile was wide. What a fine mouth the man had. “Don’t I know it. Cynthia expends hours of energy on being popular. If she spent half that time on her school work she’d be on the honor roll.”
    “I bet you were Mr. Popularity when you were a kid,” Janey blurted. She didn’t mean to bring the chitchat to another level, but she suddenly wondered who this guy was—and had been.
    He shrugged. “I don’t remember having to spend time proving I was cool.”
    “Just came naturally, huh?”
    He hesitated, as if he actually pondered her question. “I think I was actually oblivious to the whole horse race, the whole who-is-cool-and-who-isn’t nonsense.”
    Janey crowed. “Yup. That’s gotta mean you didn’t see any horses ahead of you cause you were in the lead.”
    Zack grunted something, probably obscene, under his breath. He wandered away, muttering, “Bring me my coffee in the bedroom.”
    “Nope. I don’t think so.” Janey still delighted in her new ability to ignore Zack. He snorted and slammed the bedroom door.
    Toph pointed to the large blob of dough oozing across the counter. “What’s that?”
    “Darn!” She scraped up the dough and shoved it into her huge oiled bowl. Everything about this morning was getting out of hand.
    She’d just thrown a damp cloth over the bowl, when there was another knock at the kitchen door. Darn it. Janey wished she’d gone to the temp agency this morning. Of course that meant Zack would have been the one to greet Toph, but she almost didn’t care.
    The gray-haired landlord, Bill Blair the lawyer, stood on the doorstep, his arms folded.
    “I saw the car and I wondered,” Mr. Blair said, tightly. “Is the jackass here?”
    “The jackass” must have been Zack, which made sense now that Janey knew the two of them were related. She studied Mr. Blair, but didn’t see a sign of Zack’s dark, handsome looks or his bratty sneer in Mr. Blair’s usually amiable face which was downright grim right now.
    The landlord caught sight of Toph and the bleak expression slid at once into a bright, surprised smile. Mr. Blair’s arm shot out and he pulled Toph into a politician’s enthusiastic two-handed grip and shake.
    “What the hell! Christopher Dunham! Glad to see you. How are you doin’?”
    “Fine, Bill. Jackass, hey? Were you looking for me?”
    Mr. Blair shifted from foot to foot and folded his arms. “Er, no. I am…I guess I can stop by later, Penny, I mean Janey. If you see him, please tell him I need to talk him. Right away.”
    Right on cue from down the hall came a bellow. “Janey! Is that coffee done?”
    Bill Blair’s eyes widened. “Jesus. The gall.”
    “What’s wrong?” Janey and Toph asked at the same time.
    The landlord shook his head. He strode down the hall and, without knocking, opened the door to Janey’s room. He slammed the door behind him.
    Janey and Toph stared speculatively at each other.
    She cleared her throat. “Zack told me that Mr. Blair is his uncle. Maybe there is some kind of