Chapter 18

"Marianne!"

She turned when she heard her name called. It was Pat. It was the first time she'd had a chance to talk to him since-since the night before when he had winked then said, "You're welcome!"

"Pat!" she said now, her voice pleased. "Long time no ..."

"No, Marianne," he corrected, "Where have you been all day?"

He was standing at his office door and she moved up to him, then closed the door and stood with her back against it. She laughed when Pat moved behind his desk. "Don't be afraid, Pat," she giggled, "I'm a good girl today!"

Pat stared at her. She looked all flushed and hepped up! But not like the day before. This time she was hepped up happy not sad. "You were a good girl yesterday," he said, "last night, you were a-"

"Don't tell me," Marianne had slid behind his desk beside him. Now she whispered into his ear wetly.

He listened, then murmured, "Academically that's correct!"

Marianne shook her head. "I never knew you had a sense of humor, Pat."

"Doctors are not supposed to have," he intoned.

Marianne parked herself on a chair, took the pack of cigarettes from his desk and stuck one between her wet lips.

"Why aren't you on your way home?" Pat asked as he lit her cigarette. "It's late!"

She smoked in silence. "I wanted to thank you again," she said, not answering his question. "I know damn well that you were just being nice, but I do appreciate it, Pat, I do honest."

He looked at her, thoughtfully. "You're too good a person to waste yourself on me," he began.

"Because you don't want me," she put in quickly.

He waved the remark aside. "It's not that, Marianne. But I know you. I know the type you need and I'm not it!"

"So you're not it!" Marianne breathed deeply, reminding Pat of the color of her hair. "And just who is?" she asked, almost bitterly.

"For example," said Pat with over-elaborate casualness, "Marv!" He waited for her reaction.

"Marv?" Marianne's eyes seemed to be popping.

Pat nodded.

"Funny you should say that-" Marianne began, but Pat interrupted.

"I've known Marv a long time. If anyone knows his good and bad points, I do. And I know you pretty well too, Marianne! You've got to admit that!"

"Yes, I admit that," said Marianne quickly. "Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, funny you should say that because the same idea crossed my devious little mind just today!" She sat very still, breathing deeply. Maybe ... just maybe ...

Pat gave her a long, slow look. A doctor's look; a psychologist's look; then he murmured, so very softly, "Well now, isn't that something?"

What a deep devil! Marianne thought. You never knew exactly what was in his mind! "I-I'm going to-observe the twins tonight with Marv and Bancroft and his friends," she said it quickly before she could change her mind because she was frightened that it might be the wrong thing to say and yet it might be right.

"Is that so?"

Was he sarcastic? Marianne hoped so much that he wasn't! "Pat," she said urgently, "Pat, even if you're right about Marv being the type for me, it's no good, is it? I mean-Phoebe ..."

He smiled. "I think that I can handle Phoebe," he paused. "She probably knows that she's not the one for Marv." Pat saw the surprise in Marianne's eyes, then half-explained. "She's an analyst-too, don't forget!"

"I see," Marianne spoke slowly.

She doesn't see at all, Pat was thinking. And I can't tell her that what Phoebe wants is soft female flesh not hard, man meat! That's one of the things that I can't tell. He leaned forward and took one of Marianne's hands in his. "Believe me, Marianne and leave it to me!"

Marianne's face began to glow. "Oh, yes, Pat! I can't think of anyone I'd rather leave it to!" She squeezed his fingers warmly, appreciatively.

"And don't tell Marv!" he warned. "Not yet."

"All right," she said, "you're the doctor!"

He leaned back with what seemed like a sigh of relief, then asked, "Where is Marv?"

"He-he's meeting Bancroft in the town." She looked at Pat, worriedly. "He had to go himself."

"I see," said Pat, casually. "We'll tell him that one of the Malcolm girls won't be in his act tonight."

"Why, Pat? Is something wrong?"

"No, not really. But one of them, I can't remember which, has strained her back. She's in sick bay!"

Marianne started giggling.

Pat's eyebrows went up.

"I can imagine what she was doing when she strained it!" Marianne gurgled.

"Well, I don't know about that," he frowned, "I think it was the blonde one. Which one is that?"

"A or B, they're both the same. Angel's the blonde and Bunty's the brunette." Marianne looked at Pat, then asked, "Imagine calling a nympho twin, Angel?" She started laughing.

Pat watched her as she wiggled to the door. She was a different person from the sex-starved neurotic piece of female flesh that had groveled before him in this same office last night! Was it the idea of Marv that made her like that? "Maybe you could take the place of Angel in the lineup!" He suggested as she left.