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She headed for the door and seconds later stepped into the elevator.
“A statement of fact.” Flynn got in the elevator, too. “You’re not the kind of woman anyone can ignore.”
“Thanks—I think. But don’t worry. I’ve got a cab waiting in the alley outside the hotel kitchen. Nobody will see me leave. Will you come along?”
“That’s my new job, right?”
“Yes—if you still want it.”
“I just don’t think running around the city is a very good idea.”
“People are counting on me. Tonight’s performance is sold out.”
“Don’t you have an understudy?”
“I am the understudy,” she reminded him. “Joey replaced the original star with me. We haven’t had time to train somebody else. I have to go on.”
“This seems like a crazy way to avoid the man you stood up at the church today.”
“I know I can’t avoid him forever. But I’m going to try until I can get a few things settled at the theater.” As the elevator cruised to a stop in the basement, she shouldered her canvas bag again. “Ready?”
The elevator swished open, depositing Dixie and Flynn in the midst of the hotel’s vast, bustling kitchen. The white-coated staff was deeply involved in preparing for the dinner hour, so hardly anyone looked up from their work to take notice of the two strangers slipping through their midst. But just as they neared the door, a shout went up and suddenly the whole kitchen was asking for autographs and pressing close.
Flynn fended off the mob and let Dixie slip out the door. She waved and called hello to everyone, but moments later Dixie was sliding across the back seat of a waiting taxi. Flynn climbed in after her.
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