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"Well, what's he like? Is he English?"

"No." I decided to use Randall. It had almost been true. "He's Canadian and he's a very talented singer."

"Oh. Well, you shouldn't get too involved with someone who wants to be in show business. Look at the lives they have to lead."

"I'm thinking of being involved in show business. too. I certainly am not interested in settling down with a husband and a troupe of children," I said.

He laughed.

"Someday, though, you will. right?"

"I don't know. Right now. I think it's better I just think about my career and not about any romance or relationship. I might not ever many. I might just marry my career," I said.

I was trying to say anything I thought might make me less attractive to him. He nodded

thoughtfully, but his eyes were beginning to look more and more glassy.

"Maybe I'll be more like Aunt Victoria," I said. He blew out his lips and laughed,

"Now I know you're just fooling with me. You're about as similar to Aunt Victoria as I am. You're actually more like my mother. You even resemble her in some ways," he said pouring beer into his glass. "I don't mean you manipulate men or anything. I mean you're just as pretty as she is, prettier even," he said.

"I'd better put the leftovers away so they don't spoil." I s

aid and reached for a container. He seized my wrist and looked up at me.

"You are, you knlow. You're prettier."

"Brody, please," I said pulling my wrist free.

"Is it because I'm nearly two years younger than you?" he asked. "Because I'm much older than other guys my age. Really. I am."

"Is what because of that. Brody?"

"Is that why you're trying to ignore me, ignore the way I feel about you?"

I stared at him and once again. the phone rang.

"Oh no," he said. "She's calling back. Let me get it," he said shooting up from his chair. He marched back to the kitchen and nearly ripped the phone off the wall seizing the receiver.

"Yes. Mother?" he said. "Oh," he quickly followed, "Hello, Aunt Victoria. No, I thought my mother was calling back. She did?"

He covered the mouthpiece.

"My mother called her. Can you imagine?" he whispered. "No, Aunt Victoria. I've decided not to stay at all. Thanks for the invitation, however. It's very nice of you."

He winked at me.

"Yes. Next time I do this, I certainly will call you first. Absolutely. Good-bye."

He hung up and laughed. Then he looked at me so intently, I had to stop what I was doing.

"What?" I asked him.

"You must have a reputation or something for both of them to be so concerned. I'm intrigued."

"I don't have any such reputation," I fired back at him. He wobbled and shrugged.

"Okay," he said. "Let's get back to our conversation." He started for the dining room.