Reed had called her several times since the night he’d come to visit her. He’d even sent her flowers before the opener. Each time they’d spoken he’d been unfailingly polite, although he wasn’t happy about the two-year contract she’d signed with Ron. She knew he was afraid that she was going to destroy the team before he could take it over. He would never understand that her need to be more than the figurehead her father had envisioned outweighed any desire she might have to get back at him for his childhood bullying.

She gazed at the computer that sat idly on the corner of her desk. “Could you set me up with someone who can teach me how to use this thing?”

“You want to learn how to operate a computer?”

“Why not? I’m willing to try anything that’s nonfattening. Besides, it might be fun to use my brain again.”

“I’ll send someone over.” Ron got up to leave. “Phoebe, are you sure you don’t want to move into Bert’s office? I feel guilty having all that space to myself.”

“You need it more than I do.”

After Ron left, she looked around at the blue-gray walls, steel case desk, and football artwork. She’d decided she wasn’t going to be here long enough to bother personalizing Ron’s former office with her own belongings. The utilitarian furnishings provided a marked contrast to the luxurious condo she and Molly were moving into. One of Bert’s mistresses had obviously been blessed with good taste in decorating, if not in men.

Peg Kowalski, Bert’s former housekeeper, was spending the day supervising the transfer of Phoebe’s and Molly’s clothing and personal possessions. Peg, who was in her late fifties and tired of managing a large house, had immediately agreed to help out with cleaning, laundry, and grocery shopping as well as staying overnight with Molly if Phoebe needed to be out of town.

Molly had shown little interest in the move. She’d also turned down Phoebe’s invitation to a shopping expedition so they could update her hopelessly drab wardrobe before she started school on Wednesday. Phoebe had decided there was no point in confronting Molly with the lies she had told Dan. It would only make a bad situation worse.

She had reports to read, phone calls to return, but, instead, she once again swiveled her chair so she could stare out the window. She had been playing games with men for so long she had no idea how to let one know she was honestly attracted to him. Mixed with her feelings of embarrassment and sadness was regret. If only she had been woman enough to let Dan Calebow make love to her, maybe she could have been healed.