Wildest Hearts

cello player you were seeing for a while. That reminds me.” She turned away from the mirror. “You got a package from him yesterday. Guess he heard the news about your wedding.”

    Annie brightened. “A package from Melvin Finch? Where is it?”

    “Behind the counter.”

    Annie hurried around the corner of the long counter and discovered the small package. She tore into the wrappings and found a note.

    To Annie from Melvin. Congratulations on your marriage. Hope you found a guy who's straight out of your wildest dreams. You deserve the best.

    “How sweet,” Annie said, touched. “It's a compact disc featuring music performed by that Midwest symphony orchestra he joined.”

    Ella grimaced. “Figures.”

    “Now, Ella, Melvin is a very nice person.”

    “Another of your wounded birds, as Joanna calls them. You found him, patched him up, and, when he was ready, released him to fly away.”

    “Melvin had to follow his dreams,” Annie said wistfully. “He and I were never really in love. We were just good friends.”

    “You mean you felt sorry for him,” Ella said. “And Melvin enjoyed having you feel sorry for him.”

    The door of Wildest Dreams crashed open with nerve-jarring force just as Annie finished stowing Melvin's gift in a drawer.

    A raven-haired woman dressed from head to toe in fire-engine red swept into the room. She pursed her crimson lips and waited until she had Annie and Ella's full attention.

    “Darlings,” she announced grandly, “I'm back for another look at some of your odd little pieces.”

    Annie laughed. “You mean you're going to give us another chance, Raphaela? I thought you said everything in Wildest Dreams was too tacky for your project.”

    Raphaela, born Martha Lou Stotts, had opted to use her singular pseudonym when she set herself up in business as an interior designer two years ago. In addition to eschewing a last name, she was always careful to wear only red in public. It was her trademark color she had once explained to Annie.

    Two months ago Raphaela had descended upon Wildest Dreams to announce that she had been selected to “do” the interiors of the Paul Shore residence for the annual arts benefit. She had been ecstatic. It had been a great professional coup for her.

    Annie had been very hopeful at first that Raphaela would use something from Wildest Dreams in her design. It would have been great publicity for the boutique. But Raphaela had hedged.

    “You're in luck, Annie.” Raphaela dropped her red leather briefcase onto the floor and smiled beatifically upon Annie, Ella, and Wildest Dreams. “I find that I have come to a point in my project where I do, indeed, need something that will jar the senses and amuse the eye.”

    “That's great,” Annie said enthusiastically. “How about the elephant?”

    Raphaela rolled her eyes. “Don't be ridiculous. The elephant would never do. I'm going with an exotic fantasy look that will be combined with a touch of neo-deco.”

    “How about the carousel?” Ella suggested.

    Raphaela eyed the glittering carousel. “A possibility. But I think the jungle print folding screen would be a better bet.”

    “Use whatever you like,” Annie said quickly. “I really appreciate this, Raphaela. It's going to be great advertising for us.”

    “Think nothing of it.” Raphaela gave her a fond look. “What are friends for?”

    Annie's response was interrupted by the ringing of the neon telephone on the counter.

    Ella picked up the glowing receiver. “Wildest Dreams.” She listened a minute. “Sure, I'll get her. May I tell her who's calling? Right.” She covered the phone with her palm. “Sybil Rain,” she mouthed.

    Surprised, Annie took the phone. “This is Annie.”

    “I was wondering if we might do lunch today.” Sybil's voice was brisk. She was clearly not expecting to have her offer turned down. “We haven't had a chance to really get acquainted.”

    Annie's first instinct was to find an excuse. She had a feeling that she and Sybil were not cut out to become close friends. Still, the woman was technically her new mother-in-law. Make that stepmother-in-law, Annie corrected herself. “That will be fine, Sybil. Where shall I meet you?”

    Sybil named the elegant dining room of one of the downtown hotels and hung up the phone.

    “Trouble?” Ella asked.

    “Not really. Sybil Rain wants to have lunch with me.”

    Raphaela's eyes widened in astonishment. “Sybil Rain? Why on earth