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will you?”
    And then she was gone, leaving an icy chill in her wake and Sean feeling lower than the score of Butch Turnell’s last math quiz.

    “I understand.   I understand you’re egotistical jerk.”   Gigi roared down Lincoln Avenue in Heidi’s car with no particular destination in mind.
    “I can’t believe he thought I was so desperate for a date that I’d leave my phone number on his windshield.”   She turned on Park Street.   Since there were no pedestrians in sight, only the fear of getting a speeding ticket in someone else’s car kept her from gunning it past Merriman’s window factory.
    “The man is a moron, a complete and total idiot.”   She continued to fume until she realized she’d unconsciously driven to her favorite happy hour destination.
    “Small chocolate shake,” she said into the Dairy Queen call-box.   Ah, the healing power of chocolate and ice cream.   By the time she pulled into a parking spot and took the first sip, her temper had cooled somewhat.   But there was no way she was going to bring up the real subject of the note with Sean now.   Eventually, he’d get a brain and figure out why she’d left it.   Why do people normally leave their names and phone numbers under windshield wipers?   Duh.   And the longer it took him to figure out, the more he’d feel like a big, dumb jock later.   That thought brought a smile, and the straw, to her lips.

Chapter Five
    “I beg your pardon?”   Gigi hit the save button on her keyboard and gave the caller on the phone her full attention.
    “I have thirteen marching bands from the southern half of the state coming for a competition on the sixth,” the high school band director repeated.   “The middle school Web site says there’s an eighth grade home football game the same day.   I scheduled the field over a year ago.   There’s got to be a mistake.”
    Gigi could hear the frustration in the man’s voice.   “Let me check that for you.   Can you hold on a moment?”   She tucked the receiver between her chin and shoulder, then pulled the district facilities schedule up on her screen.   “I see the marching band competition on the sixth for the middle school field.”
    “That’s not what I’m seeing.   It says eighth grade home football game.”   His tone sounded more strained than it had five seconds earlier.
    “I’m sorry.   I was checking a different field schedule.   You’re on one of the middle school Web pages.”   Gigi tried to brainstorm the problem and possible solutions.   Was the high school field available?   She pulled up that schedule to check.   No luck— girl’s soccer game.
    “Let me speak with Al,” the band director said.
    “I’m sorry.   Mr. Matthews is out for the remainder of the afternoon.”   She’d love to hand this one off.   It had been a productive Monday, with no major problems.   She’d successfully handled each small issue that had come along.   Plus a big one.   Fred, to be specific, who had planted himself in the office during his entire planning period.
    “This competition is a major fundraiser for the music program.   I need this cleared up.   Yesterday .”
    Gigi reminded herself not to take his anger personally.   “I understand.”   She wouldn’t stoop to telling the man it was only her second day on the job.   This was her first real test, and she wasn’t going to let Al Matthews down.
    “I’d like to delve a little deeper into this.”   She wondered if the visiting football team’s school could host.   “I can get back to you first thing in the morning.”   Gigi crossed her fingers.   “Great...Yes, I’ll do that.   First thing.   Thank you.”
    She hung up the phone and frowned at the wall clock.   The school day was already over, but she couldn’t let that stop her.   She could ask Al in the morning, but she really wanted to handle the problem herself.   But where should she start?   She doubted she had the