At just past five on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the party room was empty. He could hear two people talking out on the deck, but a row of trees in pots blocked the view through the window and the phone books were stacked in a pale bookcase by the door—the perfect setup to grab and go without being seen. Yellow Pages for Vancouver and the lower mainland in hand, Tony wasted a moment checking out the room. About 99% certain Arra still hadn’t cleaned it, he figured someone else must have because it looked spotless. Blue—carpet, walls, upholstery—but spotless.

If anything, he was feeling even more freaky riding down in the elevator. Maybe it was guilt although, given his life prior to Henry, he somehow doubted it. Lifting a set of Yellow Pages would easily be among the least of his crimes.

Massive tome tucked under one arm in an effort to be as inconspicuous as possible, he stepped out through the elevator’s opening door and into a barrage of sound.

“Hush, Moira! Quiet, girl!”

Although still safely tethered in Julian’s arms, the Chihuahua was making it perfectly clear that if Tony wanted to get any farther into the hall, he’d have to pass her. Ears ringing, Tony gave some serious thought to doggie-flavored chalupas and stepped sideways.

Julian stepped with him, the dog continuing to yap hysterically. “You’re that friend of Arra’s.”

“Yeah. So?”

“So tell her that common room isn’t going to clean itself!”

“Sure.” Tony suspected that if Arra wanted it to, the common room wouldn’t only clean itself, it’d take itself out for dinner and a movie.

“And tell her . . .” He pushed his voice through Moira’s continuing protest. “. . . that I will bring this up with the Borg!”

The Borg? That put a whole new slant on co-op management.

“And I guarantee the board will have something to say to her!”

Oh. The board. Not nearly as interesting. Holding the phone book like he had every right to it, Tony put his back to the wall and managed to slide past. Twisting in Julian’s arms, Moira’s eyes never left him although the high-pitched barking was mercifully replaced by a low growl, the vibration causing her substantial jowls to quiver. It seemed she had better phone book sense than her owner.

Julian’s high forehead started to crease.

Or maybe not.

He clearly knew something was wrong and it would only be a matter of moments before he figured out what. Time for a major distraction.