Sarah groaned and buried her face in her arms on top of the desk. "He's

gorgeous."

"But he's short, right?"

"No. He's at least six-two."

"Dumb?"

Again, she groaned. "Absolutely not."

Darren forced her to sit up and look at him. "The man is tall, gorgeous, and

smart?"

She nodded. Her a.s.sistant let out another whoop, got up from the chair, and

began doing his patented b.u.mp and grind around the desk. Sarah, as always, couldn't help but dissolve into a fit of laughter.

"Girlfriend's back!" Darren slid back into the seat. "Sarah, honey, I am so

glad you have finally seen the light."

Sarah put her hands on her hips and huffed. "Oh, come on. My social life hasn't been that bad."

Darren looked at her in such a way she had no doubts that he thought

otherwise. "Since Bill the Bozo, Sarah, all you've dated is computer geeks and

mama's boys. I am serious."

He was right, of course. Other than Rivka, Darren was the only person Sarah had told about William. Darren was also the only person who'd seen any of the men she'd gone out with since then.

"All those nights I helped you get ready?" He referred to the times she'd asked him to help her with her hair or makeup before a date. "I was wasting my time and my mascara. None of those men were good enough for you."

That sobered her. "Don't say that. n.o.body isn't good enough for anybody."

Despite her cryptic response, she was sure Darren knew what she meant.

William had told her she wasn't good enough. Sarah had vowed vehemently to never say the same about anyone else.

Her a.s.sistant looked chastened. "Sorry. But it's true."

Sarah glanced back to the pile of mail now strewn in an untidy heap across her

desk. Nothing could have put a damper on her day, but the pile of work she

had to do was a good start. She began sorting the letters.

Darren picked up a few that had slid to the floor, then took the rest from her.

"I'll do this. You have to meet with Corporate Carl in about fifteen minutes."

"Fifteen minutes!" Sarah was aghast. She had forgotten about her planning

meeting with Carl Houser, the president of Lymen Media. He wanted to discuss where her magazines were heading, an ominous question she wasn't sure she wanted to answer. Now she only had fifteen minutes to prepare.

"Love does make a person all mush-brained." Darren ducked out of the way before she could slap him. "Relax, Sarah, it's only Corporate Carl. Just hike your skirt up a little and bat those pretty lashes."

That the company president was a known lecher did nothing to extend her confidence. She still needed to come up with justification for the way her four t.i.tles were doing in the marketplace. She began digging somewhat frantically for the sheaf of notes she had prepared.

"I don't even have anything to do with his stupid planning meeting." Sarah ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "It's all editorial and marketing! I'm just in charge of getting the stupid things out, for Pete's sake!"

She found the notes exactly where she'd left them. Skimming them, she was relieved to find her reports still made sense. She breathed deeply, finally allowing herself to relax.

Darren watched her solemnly. "I've never seen you this fl.u.s.tered, Sarah. Whatever Mr. Gorgeous did to you last night must not have worn off yet."

She cast him an evil glare. "Darren, I'm not paying you to comment on my love life."

He shrugged. "No, honey, 'cause if you were--"

"I know. I couldn't afford your salary."

Darren grinned. "Am I going to meet this mystery man or what?"

"He'll be at Rivka's opening." Sarah still wasn't sure she looked forward to that little shindig. "It's going to be a costume party, Darren. Want to come?"

He paused in the doorway. "Are you kidding me? A chance to see that crazy sister of yours, meet your new boyfriend, and party hearty all in drag? I wouldn't miss it for the world, honey!"

"Something told me you'd like the idea." Sarah grinned.

"Don't worry, Sarah. I'll let you know exactly what I think of him."

Sarah gathered her notes. The question wasn't what Darren might think of Alex. It was what Alex might think of Darren. The thought made her laugh out loud. Still laughing, she left the office to go to her meeting.

* * * * The meeting didn't take long, thank heavens. Carl was brief and to the point. Archery Hunter magazine was the only one of her four t.i.tles that was actually doing well. Doll Collector, Early American Crafts, and British Life were all barely breaking even.

Hiding her apprehension, Sarah presented her carefully planned reports showing that the fault lay in marketing and advertising, not with production. To her relief and surprise, Carl had emphatically agreed with her and even commended her on her performance under such circ.u.mstances and hinted at the prospect of a raise.

Consequently, the high Sarah had been on since waking up in Alex's arms got even higher. Almost whistling, she swung by the mail room to drop off a few things before heading back to her office. She planned to take Darren to a nice, long, expensive lunch.

"Hi, Sarah!" The eager voice shot out from behind the tall row of shelves that served as mail slots.

Sarah's good mood dropped a notch. "Hey, Ned. How are you?"

"I'm just dandy." Ned Namey ogled her through one of the slots. "And how ' bout yourself, pretty lady?"

Sarah repressed a grimace. "Oh, you know. Busy, busy."

Ned stepped out from his mail room domain and hitched his pants up past his waist. He had really outdone himself this time. Kelly green linen pants, inadequately held up with a brown leather braided belt. Faded pink Izod polo shirt, collar standing up to brush his ears. Black loafers with ta.s.sels. He'd even added a watch today.

"Do you like it?" He must have seen her noticing it. "It's a Bolex."

"A Bolex?"

"Yeah, you know." Ned gave her a conspiratorial glance. "It's like a Rolex, but it's a Bolex. I got in New York when I went to the National Mail Handlers Convention."

"It's ... really ... nice." Sarah mustered as much enthusiasm as she could. She handed him the pile of envelopes she needed to send out. "Here you go, Ned. Thanks a lot."

"So, when are we going to go out again?" Ned took the pile and began nonchalantly tossing each letter into its appropriate slot. "We had such a great time the last time."

"Boy, we sure did." Sarah wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. Or better yet, swallow Ned. "But..."

Ned suddenly turned from his letter sorting--the smarmy smile wiped clean

from his face. It had been replaced by an expression of intense sincerity.

Sarah stifled a groan.

"I tried calling you a couple of times, but you didn't get back to me."

What could she say to that? She didn't have the heart to tell him the truth--that

the one time she had agreed to go out with him had been a mistake. She'd gotten his messages, but had wimpily forgone returning his calls. She had hoped he'd get the hint.

"Sorry," she said. "I've just been..."

"Busy, I know."

"I'm really sorry," she repeated. "I don't know what else to say."

"You could say you'll go out with me again," Ned said in the hopeless voice

of a man who expects to be shot down.

"Oh, I wish I could. I really do." Sarah gritted her teeth. "But I've just started seeing someone."

"Oh."

She would rather have had someone hit her on the head with a frying pan than

have to look at Ned's face. Sarah felt terrible. Ned was nice. He was just too

... well ... Ned.

"I sure did have fun with you, though." Sarah struggled to sound sincere.

"Bowling, the stuffed-animal exhibit at the state museum. A lot of fun."

"Sarah, you don't have to patronize me," Ned said with a nerd's quiet dignity. "I know you didn't want to go out with me again. It's okay. A woman like you never wants to go out with a man like me."

The similarity to her own words to Alex made Sarah step back. "Oh, Ned." "No, Sarah, really, it's fine. I'm used to this. I just thought..." Ned trailed off for a moment, sounding wistful. "I just thought you were different. You're always so nice to me." Oh, brother, Sarah thought. How to respond to that? She couldn't tell him that she was just being nice to be nice, not being nice to be ... well ... nice.

"Ned, I'm sorry." It was the third time. "I really am seeing someone now, or else I'd love to go out with you again." "I said you don't have to patronize me!" Ned snapped loudly. Two bright spots of color had appeared in his pasty cheeks. "I'm not much to look at, I know, but I'm not dumb!"