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and, after a few moments of soft conversation with Alva, had handed her his phone number.
    Jennifer sighed and spread the palm fronds a little wider. That was always the way it was when she went out with Alva. Her friend never seemed to have a problem meeting men or knowing what to do with them once she met them. In fact, she thought, Alva never seemed to have problems at all. Not like Jennifer had, at least.
    Right now, Jennifer's number one problem was Matt Penrose. The man seemed to have laid siege to her thoughts. She had to get her mind off him. Her long sigh disturbed the wispy palm fronds. It was a little hard to do that when he stood right across the room from her.
    Why hadn't she followed her first instinct and stayed home? Right now, she could be curled up on her comfy, overstuffed sofa with a big bowl of hot, salty popcorn. What was wrong with that? Darn it. This wasn't fair. After the week she'd had, she deserved the fun that Alva had tried to convince her she'd have. The blonde with Matt seemed to be having a good time.
    The woman hung on every word Matt spoke. Certain men ought to be barred from wearing tuxedos, Jennifer groused silently. He looked far too desirable in the classic black suit. Come to think of it, he looked as good as Cary Grant had in Notorious . Sophisticated, handsome, desirable.
    Desirable? No, absolutely not. What are you thinking of, Jennifer Monroe? she demanded silently. She couldn't possibly be admiring the snake. Could she? The headache that had threatened when she'd begun dressing for the charity ball burst into full flower.
    Maybe she needed another vacation, she thought, rubbing her throbbing temples. Yes, another tropical vacation at the same resort as last summer where all she had to do was lay in the sun and drink Margaritas and watch the sexy resort boys in their bikini briefs as they coerced the sunburned guests into competing in silly contests. She hadn't been plagued with headaches at all that week.
    Of course, Matt's persistent phone calls to her office were enough to give anyone a headache. The man was impossible, and nothing seemed to deter him from wanting to talk with her. Jennifer suspected she had become something of a challenge to him. Even someone as dense as concrete would have gotten the message that she did not want his medical services.
    When Matt suddenly looked straight at her, Jennifer released the stiff green fronds and jumped back. The palm rustled and quivered. Her heart beat a little faster as she sent a prayer heavenward that he hadn't seen her. He couldn't know she was here. Could he?
    Matt Penrose had immediately seen and recognized the woman hiding behind the twelve foot tall potted palm at the corner of the ballroom. He hadn't figured out how to approach her yet. He'd decided after her failure to return his calls that she really did have some kind of problem with seeing a male doctor.
    He could accept that. In fact, he'd already rescheduled her appointment for a check up so she could see Sylvia. He just needed to talk to her and tell her that.
    "Matthew, are you listening?" The enchanting blonde next to him frowned, but not too severely, he thought, lest it cause wrinkles on her perfect forehead.
    "Sorry, Deirdre. What were you saying about Italy?"
    As soon as she began to chatter again about her search for the perfect amber pendant or some such nonsense, he tuned her out again. Why he'd let his sister talk him into attending this function, he didn't know. It should be possible to support something as worthwhile as the women's shelter without having to put on a monkey suit to do so, he thought, running his finger beneath the burgundy bow tie.
    He tried to study Jennifer Monroe without her being aware of his appraisal. The poor woman had problems. How did one go about telling a therapist that she needed a therapist?
    Perhaps he should inquire and make a list of doctors who could treat her. Then when he next saw her, he could give her the list with a