such a mood might have settled on Carla for a full day or more. Her sister really was back to normal, and it was time she went back to the kind of work she liked. "Well, it is a little irritating to have some of my best temps stolen, but I guess it goes with the territory. Besides, it's good advertising in a way. The people who get full-time jobs tell others how they landed them through Camelot Services, and the new employers are impressed with the quality of the people we send them. You have to look on the positive side."
"I'm glad you're feeling so positive and philosophical this morning, because Bonny Hatcher's husband just phoned to say Bonny went into labor last night and had her baby at three this morning."
Guinevere stared at her. "But she wasn't due for another couple of weeks!"
"These things happen, Gwen. Healthy baby girl. Seven pounds, two ounces."
"Good grief. Zac was right?"
"About the sudden onslaught of baby making?"
Guinevere nodded dolefully. "It's scary, isn't it? Everyone is either talking about babies or having them. And you read all the time about how well all those new fertility clinics are doing. It's the latest fad among educated, successful women. Biological clocks. Probably just a craze, but when it's all over, there are going to be a lot of kids running around."
"Oh, my God," Carla breathed. "You are really starting to worry about this, aren't you?"
"My imagination has been running riot a lot lately." Guinevere pulled a stack of folders toward her as she sat down at her desk. "But business comes first."
"Wait a second," Carla said bluntly, "What about Zac? How does he feel about the new fad of having babies?"
Guinevere opened a folder and stared unseeingly at the contents. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I just don't know."
Carla grimaced. "Haven't the two of you talked about the subject?"
"Not directly."
"But, Gwen—"
"Look, Carla, I don't have the answers to your questions, so let's get down to work. As long as you're sitting at that desk, you might as well do something useful. Get on the phone and see who you can find to replace Bonny Hatcher at Fogel's today. She was due to work there for another five days to replace his secretary who's on vacation. We can't let Fogel down. He's been a small but very loyal client." She glanced at the clock. "His insurance office doesn't open until ten. That gives us less than two hours."
"I'll find someone. I can always go out myself if necessary." Carla reached for the phone and the folder full of temps who were qualified for Fogel's kind of office.
"Oh, and Carla, when you're finished, you'd better send flowers to Bonny's hospital room. And maybe one of those little designer baby suits."
Carla chuckled. "A designer baby suit?"
"Don't laugh. It's what the new brand of baby is wearing these days."
"Okay." She started to dial.
"And when you're finished," Guinevere added deliberately, "I've got something important to tell you about Mason Adair."
Half an hour later, as Guinevere finished her story of the events in Adair's studio, she was glad she hadn't brought up the subject until after Carla had located a replacement for Bonny. Carla nearly went into shock.
"Good Lord! Is everyone all right? What about Mason?"
"He's okay. He got a few bruises in the struggle, but he wasn't badly hurt. He refused to go to an emergency room."
"And you and Zac?"
"We're fine," Guinevere assured her. "It was probably the sound of Zac racing up the stairs that drove off the intruder."
"I've got to call Mason." Carla was already dialing.
"I don't see why," Guinevere began calmly, only to be interrupted by Carla as she spoke urgently into the phone.
"Mason, what's this I hear about an intruder in your apartment last night? I can't believe it. Are you all right?" Pause. "Are you absolutely certain? There can be delayed effects from this sort of thing, you know." Another pause as she listened to Mason. "Yes, yes, I realize that, but all the same—" Long
"I'm glad you're feeling so positive and philosophical this morning, because Bonny Hatcher's husband just phoned to say Bonny went into labor last night and had her baby at three this morning."
Guinevere stared at her. "But she wasn't due for another couple of weeks!"
"These things happen, Gwen. Healthy baby girl. Seven pounds, two ounces."
"Good grief. Zac was right?"
"About the sudden onslaught of baby making?"
Guinevere nodded dolefully. "It's scary, isn't it? Everyone is either talking about babies or having them. And you read all the time about how well all those new fertility clinics are doing. It's the latest fad among educated, successful women. Biological clocks. Probably just a craze, but when it's all over, there are going to be a lot of kids running around."
"Oh, my God," Carla breathed. "You are really starting to worry about this, aren't you?"
"My imagination has been running riot a lot lately." Guinevere pulled a stack of folders toward her as she sat down at her desk. "But business comes first."
"Wait a second," Carla said bluntly, "What about Zac? How does he feel about the new fad of having babies?"
Guinevere opened a folder and stared unseeingly at the contents. "I don't know," she said quietly. "I just don't know."
Carla grimaced. "Haven't the two of you talked about the subject?"
"Not directly."
"But, Gwen—"
"Look, Carla, I don't have the answers to your questions, so let's get down to work. As long as you're sitting at that desk, you might as well do something useful. Get on the phone and see who you can find to replace Bonny Hatcher at Fogel's today. She was due to work there for another five days to replace his secretary who's on vacation. We can't let Fogel down. He's been a small but very loyal client." She glanced at the clock. "His insurance office doesn't open until ten. That gives us less than two hours."
"I'll find someone. I can always go out myself if necessary." Carla reached for the phone and the folder full of temps who were qualified for Fogel's kind of office.
"Oh, and Carla, when you're finished, you'd better send flowers to Bonny's hospital room. And maybe one of those little designer baby suits."
Carla chuckled. "A designer baby suit?"
"Don't laugh. It's what the new brand of baby is wearing these days."
"Okay." She started to dial.
"And when you're finished," Guinevere added deliberately, "I've got something important to tell you about Mason Adair."
Half an hour later, as Guinevere finished her story of the events in Adair's studio, she was glad she hadn't brought up the subject until after Carla had located a replacement for Bonny. Carla nearly went into shock.
"Good Lord! Is everyone all right? What about Mason?"
"He's okay. He got a few bruises in the struggle, but he wasn't badly hurt. He refused to go to an emergency room."
"And you and Zac?"
"We're fine," Guinevere assured her. "It was probably the sound of Zac racing up the stairs that drove off the intruder."
"I've got to call Mason." Carla was already dialing.
"I don't see why," Guinevere began calmly, only to be interrupted by Carla as she spoke urgently into the phone.
"Mason, what's this I hear about an intruder in your apartment last night? I can't believe it. Are you all right?" Pause. "Are you absolutely certain? There can be delayed effects from this sort of thing, you know." Another pause as she listened to Mason. "Yes, yes, I realize that, but all the same—" Long
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