Crazy Little Thing by Tracy Brogan Page A

thinking of turning that into a walk-in closet.”
    A closet? Thank God.
    “Because half the fun will be coming out of it,” Patrick snickered.
    Owen sighed. “That one never gets old for you, does it, baby?”
    We spent the rest of the day talking about their hopes for various spaces. I took dozens of notes and pictures and promised to get back to them within a week.
    At Patrick’s request, I also agreed to bring my label maker with me next time to mark their bathroom towel hooks His and His .

    Strolling through the hospital lobby a few days later, after Dody’s doctor’s appointment, I heard a familiar accent. As usual, a tingle trickled down my spine and straight to my girlie bits.
    “Hey, Sadie!” Des called.
    Dody and I turned, and Des missed a step, taken aback, no doubt, by her turquoise boa. It was sparkly with sequined feathers and dangled from her shoulders like a Muppet Show cast member. Walter had allegedly bought it from a Romanian housekeeper who’d pilfered it from Diana Ross’s dressing room. I had my doubts.
    Des, of course, looked dashing in his doctor duds. What is it that makes a generic white lab coat and scrubs look so sexy, I wondered, just before wishing I’d put a little effort into my own appearance that day. I mean, yes, I was on vacation, but would it have killed me to wash my hair? Was that extra ten minutes in bed worth it? At the moment I wasn’t even certain if I had brushed my teeth that morning. Damn it!
    I smiled with lips together, trying to taste the remnants of toothpaste in my mouth.
    “Why, Dody, don’t you look stunning today?” His smile was broad.
    She fluttered her boa along with her lashes. “Thank you. That’s just what Fontaine said.”
    Des nodded, eyebrows quirked. “Fontaine would know.”
    He winked at me over her head, causing my bra to try and unclasp itself in sweet surrender.
    “What brings you ladies here today?” he asked.
    “Oh, it’s nothing serious. Just a checkup with my vaginacologist,” Dody answered.
    “Dody!” I gasped.
    “What? Oh, you’re so squeamish, Sadie. He knows about these things. He’s a doctor, after all. Right, Des? You know all about lady parts, don’t you?” She gave a coy flutter of her boa.
    His face was Vulcan bland. “I am familiar with vaginacology, yes.”
    I’ll bet.
    “We were just going to the cafeteria to have lunch,” Dody said. “Won’t you join us?”
    “No, we weren’t,” I blurted out, rattled by his presence.
    “Yes, we were. I’m starving.” She turned and stared at me with intense, round eyes.
    Des checked his watch. “I’ve only got a few minutes, but I’ll walk with you.”
    He pointed in the opposite direction, indicating the enormous cafeteria sign we’d blithely passed. We turned and walked together down a short hallway, arriving at the cafeteria a minute later.
    It was nearly deserted. Probably because it was only ten thirty in the morning.
    “Maybe we should just have coffee,” Dody said. “I’m not so hungry after all.”
    I knew it! That meddling old liar, still trying to force Des into my world.
    “I’ve got time for that,” Des said, gesturing to a corner table. “Why don’t you go sit in that booth over there? I’ll get the coffee,” he offered.
    “No, let us buy the coffee. We owe you,” I said.
    He leaned forward, his hand touching the small of my back. “It’s OK. I get it for free.” He waggled his brows, nodding, as if free coffee was the best perk ever.
    Looks like I had no choice. “OK then. Thanks.”
    He joined us at the table a few minutes later, setting down three cups and sliding into the seat next to me. He pulled some sugar packets out from his coat pocket and handed them to Dody. She was beaming as though he’d just proposed. To her.
    “You like it black, right?” he asked me.
    I nodded. “That was a lucky guess.”
    He tapped his temple. “Keen powers of observation. You drank it black the other night when I was there for dinner.”
    I