Suddenly it occurred to him that they really were. He was so powerful now.

And sitting so close to Julianne, thinking intently about something that she naturally shared with him- he was transmitting like a powerful radio tower, overriding her own weaker signal. It wasn't her own desire glowing so deliciously in her hazel eyes, but just an echo of his own. The thought instantly pulled the plug on his lust. He let go of her hand.

Luckily the wine and food arrived just then and he could fill up her glass.

Julianne shook her head, blinking. Damn, he was going to have to be more careful. "Tell me, uh, about Debra," he said quickly. "What's the big deal this time?"

"Debra? Oh god, Rob, I wish I could strangle her. You know the report she had me draft for the Atlanta division? Four of the graphs-four of them!-turn up in her presentation this morning! On viewgraph slides, no less ..."

Rob chewed pizza and kept the glasses filled. Nodding and making an intelligent noise every now and then was enough to keep Julianne going until she had vented all her frustrations. Which was really the point of this entire exercise- there was nothing anybody could do about Debra's alleged cussedness. It was as much a feature of Julianne's job as wearing designer suits and pearls. Besides, Rob didn't entirely believe in Debra's demonic aspect. It might be like the ineffectiveness of the postal system, or the collapse of the American family-a nugget of truth bloated way out of proportion by overzealous newspapers and TV talk shows.

At this moment overzealous was a good word for Julianne. She waved her pizza slice in the air. "-and when I checked with Mr. Thomas he said the fax had never been sent! Now wouldn't you think that if she was going to be so devious she'd at least send a cover sheet, and then blame it on line noise?"

"Oh sure, Jul, that would be obvious," Rob agreed absently.

"So my idea was to get you in on it," Julianne continued.

Rob choked on a sip of wine. "Me?"

"Yeah-you could drive me back to the office after lunch, and come up for a few minutes. It shouldn't take you but a Jiffy to tell Debra that I'm right. You can tell when she's lying, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"And then I'll write a memo, an accurate memo, to send upstairs. And she'll sign it."

"Jul, think a minute! How can I make the poor woman do something? It wouldn't be fair."

"But you're making her do something right. How is that different from making a bunch of dipsticks in Lorton do something right? Or pushing that shoe clerk around? You're being really inconsistent!"

For a second Rob's mouth hung open, as his thought processes spun their wheels to catch up. "So I'm inconsistent-I've been dealing with this for less than a week! At the shoe department it was an emergency, okay? Just in and out of the guy's head, nothing permanent. And I like to think I was performing a service to society at the prison, Jul. How does my leaning on your boss advance the common good?"

"It'll advance my good, and I'm your wife," Julianne said firmly. "I told you how important it'll be this month, to put up a good show for the Atlanta division. If I'm smart enough- if Debra doesn't undo all my good work the second I turn my back-the whole department gets a gold star."

"That is not what you could call a broad-impact goal, Jul," Rob protested.

"Look, isn't it time to start on back? We can discuss this on the way."

"Oh my god, yes-look at the time! You better let me drive, otherwise I'll be late."

Rob willingly let her take the driver's seat. When she was in a rush Julianne put even more energy than usual into her driving. She would have little attention to give to persuading him, which meant he could think. Now that she wasn't prodding at him, it didn't seem so unreasonable to lend her a hand. She needed help with Debra and had asked him for it. The cons in Lorton hadn't even asked-he had just dumped a new mindset on them. And he wouldn't do anything nearly so drastic to Debra. Just a very slight adjustment, so that she wouldn't undercut Julianne so often. What could be the harm in that?

So when they arrived at Julianne's building he let her park the van in the basement parking lot and hustle him up to her office. The Association of Garment Design had the eighteenth and nineteenth floors in the building.

Their suites were ostentatiously modern in decor and gave a fine view of the airplanes landing and taking off at National Airport. In his rumpled computer jockey clothing, Rob always felt underdressed at the Association.

Operating anywhere in the garment industry seemed to demand very high fashion standards.

Rob had met Debra several times before, at Christmas parties mostly, but he always had trouble recognizing her. Partly it was the disguising effect of changes in hair color, hairstyle, and makeup. The one year she had become a redhead had really shaken his confidence. And today his difficulties would be compounded by the certainty that Debra would be in ordinary business attire rather than a killer party dress. Fortunately he now had a powerful booster to his feeble social skills. He scanned the minds around him, hoping to pick her out. Immediately he tapped into excitement and anticipation. "Something's going on today, huh?" he asked Julianne.

"Oh, it's Joubert. He's in town getting the red-carpet tour of the Association."

"Who is Joubert?"

"Oh, Rob! If you have to be a barbarian don't announce it, okay? Joubert is the famous French couturier. But don't worry. Mr. Rowe will keep him upstairs."

"Don't you believe it, Jul. He's just around the corner, over by the file cabinets."

Julianne shot him a quick surprised glance, but there was no time to talk about it. They came round the corner and the illustrious visitor was indeed there, dressed in green suede from head to toe and flirting with a delighted secretary. Mr. Rowe stood uncomfortably by, and hailed Julianne with relief. "Let me introduce one of our most energetic account execs, Phillipe. This is Julianne Lewis. And, er ..." He looked at Rob in confusion.

"Rob Lewis, her husband," Rob said helpfully.

"Enchante, madame," Joubert said without taking his eyes off the secretary.

"Enchante, m'sieur." He was absurdly young, in his mid-twenties perhaps, with a carefully wild shock of dark hair. Mr. Rowe looked like his disapproving grandfather.

From pure mischief Rob said, "I've always admired your work, Mr. Joubert.

Is that suit your own design?"

"Rob!" Julianne mouthed almost silently at him.

"Surely," Joubert said. He brushed his palms over the studs and fringes. "I hope to reform, revamp, American male fashions, as I have revolutionized the ladies'." He raised one fastidious eyebrow at Rob's beige sports jacket.

"But suede will be so hot in the summertime," Rob said.

"So it is." Surprised, Joubert glanced down at his own fringed sleeve. "Too oppressive! I shall remake this in silk!"

"Green is all right, I guess," Rob said with a straight face. "But I always liked yellow myself."

"Yellow!" Joubert seemed to be seeing heavenly visions. "Yellow, a Naples yellow with a lot of orange in it! I think of sunflowers, of sunsets, of marigolds-"

"Rob, cut it out!" Julianne hissed.

"Plaid," Rob suggested wickedly.

"A piece of paper," Joubert demanded feverishly. "I must draw!"

The secretary handed the great man a pad. M-r. Rowe contributed his own fountain pen. Julianne seized Rob by the elbow and hauled him away. "How could you?" she whispered. "What have you done to him? What will his Paris collection look like next autumn?"

"Heaven knows," he laughed. "But anything'll be an improvement over green suede."

"How you can shuffle Monsieur Joubert's design inspirations around like that, and be so mealy-mouthed about Debra, I will never understand."

"Oh, but Julianne, couturier fashion design has absolutely no relationship to reality anyway!"

"But-but the industry, the balance of trade, the-" She sputtered to a stop and then announced in despair., "Oh, you're hopeless!"

Rob knew he shouldn't be surprised at how easy that had been. He no longer had to pronounce a comnrand, even in silent words, or to harness a strong emotion to get the weirdness moving. A mere suggestion was enough, when he put the muscle of his will behind it. That was what to call it, muscle. And maybe poor Joubert was the malleable type anyway? But when he confronted Debra, Rob felt a small nagging doubt. Yes, interference was easy to do and subtle to execute. The woman would never know, just as Joubert hadn't noticed his interference. But Julianne would know. Rob couldn't help wondering if that knowledge would be good for her.

Julianne was saying, "You remember my husband Rob, don't you? We sat together at the company picnic last fall."

"Of course I remember you," Debra said cordially. "The father of those beautiful twins! Did you drop by to get a glimpse of Monsieur Joubert?"

Rob stared in fascination at her new hair color, a sort of strawberry blonde. Even her eyebrows matched. "He's just bringing me back from lunch,"

Julianne interposed, "and wanted to say hi." She frowned and nodded at Rob to get on with it.