For a few weeks, she was labeled Hollywood's slut-du-jour. Unfortunately, she couldn't claim complete innocence. On the rebound from Joel, she'd made a few bad choices in the romance department.

Still, she never sank to the level of sleeping with someone just to get a part, though the opportunities were there. And once it became obvious Phoebe Lane didn't play the casting-couch game, she went from rising young star to has-been in a short time span. Vanessa Vance was killed in an unsightly car wreck. The soap got canned. And her agent expected her to do the next round of parties-only this time it would be harder, because she was no longer the freshest face in town.

And she had a bit of a rep.

That's when she'd made her escape from Hollywood, much to her mother's disappointment.

"My party would be nothing like those parties in L.A.," Phoebe said. "Anyway, I don't know why I didn't think of this before. As one of your best friends, I must give you and James an engagement party."

"Oh, but I wasn't hinting around," Elise objected. "I know. But it's a great idea, anyway. Start making out your guest list. Your family-that'll be a crowd right there-James's family, and all our neighbors. We'll have it out by the pool!"

Mesa Blue was a horseshoe-shaped building situated around a huge, blue-bottomed pool, which was another reason Phoebe had jumped at the chance to move here. Phoebe loved to swim. These days, while doing her laps, she worked out chemical equations from her organic chemistry class in her mind. The pool area was perfect for gatherings large and small, and anybody who lived here was free to make use of it.

"You know, this isn't a bad idea," Elise said. "I bet you can get Jeff to tend bar for you." Jeff Hawkin was the kid who maintained the pool and courtyard grounds. He also was a part-time bartender at The Prickly Pear, a nearby bar and grill that Phoebe, Elise and Daisy had made their home-away-from-home.