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Chapters (88)
  1. Cover Page
  2. Front Flap
  3. Title Page
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Dedication
  6. Contents
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. Back Flap
  88. Back Cover

Cleo took a sip of her coffee. They ate in silence, neither one having realized how hungry they were.

When Dirk was finished, he patted his mouth with his napkin and leaned back. “That hit the spot. Connie, you’re a good cook.”

“Thank you.”

“I’d like to know more about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Cleo asked lightly.

“You live in California, right?”

“Yes, Los Angeles.”

“And you’re writing a book on meditation. How did that come about?”

Cleo hated to lie. But she didn’t want to tell Dirk who she was yet. She didn’t want her fame to get in the way. It was nice to just enjoy each other’s company.

“Well, I figured meditation was a good way to calm my noives. My noives were shot.”

Dirk at first was startled, then cracked up. “Really? Your noives?”

Cleo’s eyes twinkled. The performer in her was coming to the surface. And if I’m going to try and deflect the conversation away from my life, I may as well have fun, she thought. “Yes. Absolutely. They were shot! Which reminds me of the joke about …”

Dirk listened, his face incredulous, as an animated Cleo told three jokes in a row, using different accents and voices. It was her delivery that was so funny. He was laughing even before she got to the punch lines. “I never would have guessed there was a side like this to you, Connie,” he said finally, wiping his eyes, chuckling, and shaking his head. “Whew. You were so quiet and so serious … You really do …,” he started to say, then couldn’t get out the words. He’d obviously thought of something funny and started to laugh again.

“I what?” Cleo asked.

“… you do need meditation!” He pointed to the door and guffawed. “You better get back to your cabin right now and write that book!”

Cleo burst out laughing. “Well hardy har har,” she said as she started to clear the plates.

“No, don’t do that now,” Dirk said, waving his hand at her to stop.

“I thought you liked being waited on.”

“I do. But I want to hear more jokes. When I laugh I forget about the pain in my ankle.”

“Poor baby.”

“I am a poor baby.”

“You just said I should go write my book,” Cleo teased. “Good idea.” She started to get up.

“No!”

“I really should go change out of my bathing suit.”

“No you shouldn’t,” Dirk insisted. He reached for her hand. “I’m not letting you go.”

51

Jillian was doing her best to remain cheerful, even though Striker and Harriet were not happy people. When Jillian had gone into the house, Harriet had cried out, “How could you have made me throw out the flowers Striker sent me our first Valentine’s Day together?”