Anything You Can Do - By Sally Berneathy Page 0,5

for a relationship with someone who's intelligent, romantic, exciting, funny, handsome...hmm...Degreed DWM, professional, divorced two years, no diseases... Oh, gag."

"Prince Charming," Gordon contributed. "She's looking for Prince Charming, but no lawyers need apply."

"That's a great idea," Paula said, folding the paper. "I'll run my own ad. Looking for Prince Charming, no lawyers need apply, although the exclusion should be self-evident."

"Ah, revenge will be sweet," Gordon drawled, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Stafford Morris, for all those weekends you made me work and all the nasty memos, not to mention the cigar smoke, behold your secretary."

"May the two of them have a long, long relationship." Bailey lifted her soda in a mock toast. "Our beloved managing partner," she explained to Austin.

"I've met the man," he acknowledged, and Bailey wanted to ask the circumstances, why his lips thinned when he made the curt remark. But before she could decide on a polite way to frame her question, the food arrived and conversation ceased.

*~*~*

Full and exhausted, Bailey pushed open the door of her second-floor condominium and stooped to catch the tiny bundle of black and red fur that launched itself into her arms.

"Did you miss me?" Bailey asked, cuddling the little dog, reveling in the unconditional love.

"You didn't miss her, did you, Samantha?" Paula scratched the animal behind one pointy, tufted ear. "She's only pretending to be ecstatic. A good job of it, too, Samantha."

"Want to go for a walk?" Bailey asked, stressing the last word. Samantha wriggled out of her arms, jumped to the floor, and began running in circles, yipping and waving her plumed tail.

"I'd say that's a definite yes," Paula interpreted, tossing her handbag onto the glass-topped coffee table. "Poor thing's probably been standing around for hours with her legs crossed."

Bailey withdrew a lavender halter and leash from the coat closet and held it close to the floor. Samantha lowered her head and charged directly into the opening, dancing up and down impatiently while Bailey fastened the buckle and laughed at Samantha's enthusiasm.

"Come on," she called to Paula. "This is a great way to meet your new neighbors. Samantha knows everybody."

As the trio proceeded across the grounds, the little dog pranced along, sniffed shrubs, trees, and flowers, and stopped to say hello to everyone. After Paula had inquired as to the identity of the third man they met, Bailey finally asked her, "Do you want me to have a party and invite all the males I know, however remotely, so you can meet them?"

"That's a good idea," Paula agreed. "You're just wasting them."

A high-pitched voice interrupted. "Look, Pumpkin. There's that cute little dog again." A white toy poodle and matching owner bounced up to greet Samantha. "What kind of dog did you say she is?" Pumpkin's leash holder asked.

"A Chorkie," Bailey replied, ignoring Paula's coughing spasm.

The woman nodded sagely. "They're such a cute breed. I almost got one before I found Pumpkin."

The dogs sniffed each other briefly then led their owners on to seek more interesting smells.

"Chorkie?" Paula questioned when the pair had moved a few bushes away.

"Yorkie/Chihuahua. What do you want me to say she is, a Yihuahua? That lady'll tell all her friends about seeing a Chorkie, and they'll all pretend to know what she's talking about. They'll probably go to the pet store and ask for one. But there's only one Samantha, isn't there, sweetheart?" She reached down to scratch the little head as Samantha bent over a tuft of grass, sniffing in absorption.

"Hey, Ms. Attorney-at-Law, what would your new friend, Austin Travers, think if he saw you goo-gooing over a dog?"

"Your new friend would be jealous because I have a Chorkie and he doesn't."

"Jealous? No, I can't see that. Though if there were only one Chorkie in the world and he wanted it, I can see him moving heaven and earth to get it."

Bailey scowled at her friend but didn't deny the accuracy of her assessment. Austin's competitive nature, Austin's ability to win, both excited and frightened her. A tingle raced along her spine as she recalled the fierce competition of the race.

Mostly, she had to admit, it excited her.

CHAPTER 2

"Good morning, Joan." Bailey greeted the receptionist, picked up her messages, and thumbed through them as she strode down the hall. Dressed in a tailored black suit with a white silk blouse, still exhilarated by the race on Saturday, she felt ready to take on the world, even Stafford Morris.

As she passed the large conference room, the door opened and Lisa Palmer, one of the