27

T he greeter at the Treetops Hotel was most surprised to see Lorraine Lily return so soon. He bowed, pretending not to notice that she was barefoot. “Have you completed your research for the evening?”

“Actually not. It’s a long story.” Her shoes were dangling from her right hand. “One of my heels broke. I don’t suppose they keep any extra shoes around here. My luggage was lost…”

Once again the greeter’s face assumed an agonized expression. “I’m so sorry. However, upstairs in your marble bathroom you will find a pair of terrycloth slippers, compliments of the hotel.”

“Terrific. Do you suppose the concierge has any glue?”

The greeter pointed to the concierge desk. “Jon is there and will be happy to help.”

Jon was a serious young man with bushy eyebrows who looked as if he carried the weight of the world on his slight shoulders. “I’m sure we can try and reattach your heel with glue but I can’t make any promises. If you can wait until tomorrow…”

“I can’t,” Lorraine interrupted. “Do what you can. I’ll be right back.” She hurried up to her suite and went into the softly lit, beige marble bathroom. White slippers were laid out on a white mat next to the ultramodern scale. A thick, terry cloth robe was hanging from the back of the door. It all looked so peaceful and spalike. Lorraine looked longingly at the large tub. I’d love a soothing soak, she thought, after which I could wrap myself in the robe, then place my poor aching feet in the terry cloth slippers. Slippers that were never intended for tromping around New York City. She put them on.

If things get desperate, which they probably will, I’ll have to wear these slippers on the street, Lorraine thought. At least we’re in a blackout. And we’ll be on Clay’s bicycle.

She glanced in the bathroom mirror. Even though she looked a little tired, she was, as usual, pleased with her reflection. Lorraine knew she was a beautiful, sexy woman. She knew she had what it takes to make it as an actress. A pit formed in her stomach. She had to get those letters back. Dashing out of the bathroom, she exited the suite and took the elevator back to the lobby.

“I’m afraid the heel is so thin that there isn’t much of a surface to place the glue,” Jon gravely informed her. “We did what we could. I wouldn’t try on the shoe just yet. You should give it time to dry.”

“Thank you,” Lorraine said. “I’ll hope for the best.”

“However,” the concierge continued, “we did find a pair of shoes in the closet that belong to a woman who is painting all those gorgeous flowers on the walls of our lobby bathrooms. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you borrowed them. They are not the most stylish but they are your size.” Jon pulled the shoes out of a brown bag and held them up.