“Good. But since you’re here, make it easier for me. Give me a boost up to that first balcony.”

“Sure. They can’t arrest me, can they?”

Ray cupped his hands, giving Phillip’s foot a helpful push, then stood back to watch him make the climb. He watched, and he smiled. “I’m going to miss you,” he said quietly and faded into shadows.

IN THE PARLOR, Sybill concentrated fiercely on her work. She didn’t give a damn if it had been petty, unreasonable behavior to ignore Phillip’s knock. She’d had enough emotional upheaval for one weekend. And besides, he’d given up quickly enough, hadn’t he?

She listened to the wind rattle against her windows, set her teeth, and pounded the keyboard.

The import of internal news appears to outweigh that of the external. While television, newspapers, and other information sources are as readily available in the small community as they are in large urban areas, the actions and involvements of one’s neighbors take precedent when the population is limited.

Information is passed on, with varying degrees of accuracy, through word of mouth. Gossip is an accepted form of communication. The network is admirably quick and efficient.

Disattending—the pretense of not hearing a private conversation in a public place—is not as prevalent in the small community as in the large city. However, in transient areas such as hotels, disattending is still a consistent and acceptable behavioral pattern. I would conclude that the reason for this is the regular comings and goings of outsiders in this type of area. Overt attention is paid, however, in other areas such as

Her fingers froze, her mouth dropped open, as she watched Phillip slide her terrace door open and step inside.

“What—”

“The locks on these things are pathetic,” he said. He walked to the front door, opened it, and picked up the basket and vase of flowers he’d left there. “I figured I could risk these. We don’t get a lot of thievery around here. You might want to add that to your notes.” He set the vase of roses on her desk.

“You climbed up the building?” She could only stare at him, amazed.

“The wind’s a bitch, too.” He opened the basket, took out the first bottle. “I could use a drink. How about you?”

“You climbed up the building?”

“We’ve already established that.” He opened the wine with an expert and muffled pop.

“You can’t . . .” She gestured wildly. “Just break in here, open champagne.”

“I just did.” He poured two glasses and discovered it didn’t do his ego any harm to have her gaping at him. “I’m sorry about this morning, Sybill.” Smiling, he offered her a glass of champagne. “I was feeling pretty rough, and I took it out on you.”

“So you apologize by breaking into my room.”

“I didn’t break anything. Besides, you weren’t going to open the door, and the flowers wanted to be in here. So did I. Truce?” he said and waited.

He’d climbed up the building. She still couldn’t get over it. No one had ever committed such a bold and foolish act for her. She stared at him, into those golden angel eyes, and felt herself softening. “I have work.”