In Stereo Where Available Read Free Page A

on.”
    “He said that? No, he didn’t. That’s not what he said.”
    “Read between the lines, Phoebe.”
    I sighed and clicked the next page. “You and Madison. Maybe you should come on dates with me as a translator.”
    Lauren patted me on the shoulder and sipped at the straw in her iced latte. “Don’t worry, Fee. I can get you through this. I’m a professional.”

CHAPTER TWO
    Madison spent her few days back home signing autographs for the neighborhood kids and posing for pictures taken by their excited mothers, a celebrity just for the two minutes she’d spent singing badly and getting cut down by a bigger celebrity. That Friday, on the way to the airport, Pepper ran back and forth in the backseat of my car, bumping hard against the doors with every turn. She wasn’t much of a car dog. Pepper was a purebred Maltese, one of those dogs with straight white hair that falls all the way to the floor, making her look like a well-groomed dust mop. She had a yappy little bark and a prissy little walk, and whenever I fed her, I got a guilty sort of feeling that I should be serving her dinner in a crystal goblet like they do in those TV commercials.
    “How’s she been, anyway?” asked Madison.
    “Fine. She’s a good girl. She’s not fighting with the cats anymore.”
    Madison reached into the backseat and scooped her up. “Mommy missed you, yes, she did! And Mommy’s going to miss you some more. Poor baby.”
    “I’ll take good care of her.”
    “You always do.” She held Pepper up in front of her, nose to nose. “Maybe Mommy will bring back a daddy for you. Wouldn’t that be a nice little souvenir?”
    “I’ll be rooting for you, Maddie.”
    “Oh, I know you will.” She set Pepper back on the seat and took her powder compact out of her purse, touching up the spot on her nose where Pepper had licked her. “How are things going with Bill, by the way?”
    “They’re not. He hasn’t called or anything. I kind of wish he would. I’ve got a date tonight, anyway.” I reached into the console for my cell phone. “Whoops, I forgot to turn it on.”
    “There’s other fish in the sea.”
    “Hold on. I’ve got voice mail.” I handed her my phone. “Dial for me. Maybe it’s him.”
    Madison dialed my voice mail and handed the phone back to me. I tucked it up against my ear, turning onto the exit for the airport.
    “Hey, Karen, it’s, uh, Jerry again. I haven’t been able to get in touch with you, but I’d, uh, like to. Give me a call and maybe we can talk about this weekend. Okay.” Again, he left his number. I rolled my eyes and hung up.
    “It’s the same wrong number I got a couple days ago,” I said. “Some guy trying to get in touch with Karen.
Hello
. I’m not Karen.”
    Madison giggled. “I’ve done that before.”
    “Done what?”
    “Given a guy a fake phone number.”
    “Oh.” I thought about that for a minute. “You think that’s it, really?”
    “Yeah. Just ignore him. He’ll figure it out eventually.”
    “That’s so sad.”
    She shrugged, playing with the air vents. “It beats telling a guy to his face that you’re not interested.”
    “Maybe I ought to call him and let him know I’m not Karen. I don’t want him to think I’m not calling him back because I don’t care.”
    “He’s not calling
you
, Phoebe. He’s calling Karen, whoever she is. And anyway, you
don’t
care. You’ve never even met him, remember?”
    “Well, no, but that’s just so sad. He’s sitting there waiting for me to call him back and I’m just ignoring him.”
    “Phoebe
. He’s waiting for
Karen
to—oh, that’s my terminal. Just pull up to the curb, I’ll be fine.” She gave me a hug, patting my back lightly with her manicured hand. “Wish me luck! When you see me again, I just might be with the man of my dreams!”

    My first Kismet date was one I’d set up myself after e-mailing a guy whose description conjured up Bill’s polar opposite: social, outgoing, well-traveled,