Hey, some guy
called me about setting up a Mandi Steele look alike contest. Was that your
idea?"
"No, but it worked in Atlanta. You'll meet the guy who thought it up in a
week or two. He's busy converting, and I'm going to call him out here to help
with fixing up our new digs."
"Converting, huh?" He shook his head. "Shoulda known. Let you run off to
Atlanta and you meet some young cutie and..."
Sighing again, Mandi said flatly, "He's fifty-three, Jackie."
Shrugging, Jackie continued, "Okay, then, some old cutie. How many is this
one? Six?"
"Only five. Don't try to make me sound easy, you putz." She sipped her drink
and said, "Anyway, if he doesn't develop flight, I'll fly him out here and we'll
get things started."
Indicating the 'in' basket on his desk, she asked, "Any messages for me in
that pile?"
"Oh, all of 'em. Of course. Nobody ever calls for me."
"You poor thing. But if I recall correctly, they aren't supposed to call for
you."
"Still... It'd be nice, just once in a while, y'know?"
Parking her butt on the edge of the desk, Mandi began pawing through the
pile of pink 'While You Were Out' slips and said, "Pooor Baaaby.
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