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on things. “Every man on earth wants to be a movie star! Well, here’s your chance, Mr.—Flynn, is it? I don’t suppose you can act, can you?”
    * * *
    Flynn returned to the Plaza with Dixie, totally opposed to the plan.
    â€œI can’t do this,” he protested. “Nobody’s going to believe I’m a professional boxer!”
    â€œI’ll coach you.”
    â€œAll the coaching in the world won’t help!”
    â€œIt’s only for a few days,” Dixie argued breezily as they entered her suite. “Long enough to convince Joey that he needs to sign an extended contract to support the show. Once we get his signature on paper, you’re free!”
    She flipped on a few lamps and tossed her canvas bag onto the sofa. Her wig followed, and she fluffed up her short hair with a brisk rub.
    Flynn closed the door and followed her into the suite. He dropped a fake Louis Vuitton suitcase full of clothing the cast had collected for him out of the theater’s costume shop. They had thrown themselves into creating a character for Flynn to play.
    Desperately, Flynn said, “Dixie, I can’t do it!”
    â€œWhy not? You look the part! You look wonderful!”
    â€œI feel like a fool.”
    Flynn stopped and looked at his reflection in the mirror. It had taken only an hour for the transformation to take place, but he didn’t look like himself anymore. Oh, maybe his own family would recognize him beneath the false mustache and the elegant Armani suit, but there was no doubt in Flynn’s mind that his friends at the precinct wouldn’t guess who he was. If they did, they’d bust their collective guts laughing.
    Unmindful of his dilemma, Dixie kicked off her boots and started to make herself comfortable in the hotel suite. She yanked the tail of her T-shirt out of her jeans as if to undress right there in front of the windows overlooking Central Park.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” Flynn asked, momentarily forgetting his problems. He wasn’t prepared to start fighting his attraction to her all over again.
    Dixie picked up the phone and began dialing purposefully. “I’m starving. I want to order some room service. What would you like for supper?”
    â€œI don’t feel like eating.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œI don’t know—stage fright or something!”
    â€œThat always wears off, trust me. Oh, hello, room service? This is Dixie again. Could you send up some—let’s see—how about a couple of Western omelets? Oh, yes, with potatoes and everything. And some fruit. Oh, and something chocolate! Yes, that sounds perfect. For two, of course. Yes, for two people. Thanks.”
    She hung up and bounded for the bedroom. “You’ll have to answer the door in your new getup. The hotel staff ought to get the first glimpse of my boxer with money.”
    â€œI thought you were going to keep your presence here a secret.”
    â€œNot anymore,” she said from inside her bedroom. She didn’t bother to close the door. “Now we’re going to pretend I’m staying here with my new lover!”
    Flynn shot to the bedroom door and halted on the threshold. “You’re kidding, right?”
    With her back turned to Flynn, Dixie whipped off her T-shirt and replaced it with a comfortable-looking man’s dress shirt. She fastened a couple of buttons casually. “Of course I’m not kidding. The best way to make Joey furious is to pretend you’ve replaced him in my affections. Except for one thing.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œJoey never stayed here.”
    â€œYou never slept with him?” Flynn said, not sure he should believe her. Unless Torrano was a man of steel, he had to have been attracted to Dixie.
    â€œOf course I didn’t sleep with him. I barely knew him! But we’re going to make it look like you and I are—well, heavily involved. Trust me, it’s