“You’re still looking a bit groggy this morning,” Lily commented as they stood in the Trust’s lobby, waiting on the executive lift. “What did you do after the movie yesterday?”“We took the children to the Fair, but for their sakes, we weren’t there late.”Before them, the lift chimed its arrival, its doors opening to receive them. As they boarded, Evelyn studied her reflection in the elevator’s mirrored walls, noting the grayish circles lingering under her eyes, while Lily selected the buttons for their floors. “What time was that?”“We left immediately after the fireworks finished.” She faced Lily and shrugged. “Still haven’t caught up on my sleep, I guess.”Lily peered at her. “You’re not feeling poorly again, are you?”“No. Nothing since that day.”“Good. I’d prefer we don’t have to go through that again.”The lift stopped at the nineteenth floor, chimed, then the doors opened.Giving Evelyn a quick hug, Lily hurried out, waving as the doors closed. “I’ll see you at the fountain at

“Good morning, Evelyn.” Andrew strode through the door, pausing only long enough to bend and press a quick peck on her full lips. Though she kissed him back, he could still feel the distance between them since their argument last week, and he was growing desperate searching for a way beyond it.He’d drastically underestimated the amount of work associated with getting the baseball game broadcast off the ground and the monster of a project it had become had devoured nearly every minute of his time since. Agonizingly, it had left him little to make full amends.“Good morning,” she replied with a sweet smile, but behind her eyes, silvery-blue today, there was no mistaking the cautious way she regarded him. “I’ve left your messages on your desk with a fresh cup of coffee and Mr. Whalen has called already this morning and asked that you return his call as soon as possible.”“Wonderful. Is there still a hole in my schedule at three this afternoon?” He bent at the waist, hovering over her as

Evelyn had no idea how long it took for the insistent persistent banging on her apartment door to wake her. She had no idea what time it was, only that bright sunlight beat against the drawn curtains, illuminating her bedroom in a soft warm glow.Exhausted still, she became aware of the irritation’s source with an annoyed and pained groan. It was echoed in a low grumbled curse from the solid warm body of Andrew wrapped around her.“Oh, go away.” Her voice was sleep-rough and barely recognizable as her own.Beside her, Andrew’s response was less cordial. “It’s too damn early for this kind of nonsense.” With a frustrated groan, he rolled away from her, thrashed about to disentangle from the blankets, then sat up on the edge of the mattress with another rough groan.“Where are you going?”Rustling through their discarded clothes, Andrew retrieved his tuxedo pants from the floor, yanking them over his long legs before standing to secure them at the waist. He cursed again as the banging con

The train had long since reached speed and the cityscape faded into rolling landscape. Evelyn leaned against Andrew with her feet tucked under her watching the greenery through the wide window as he read through the Times she’d bought to sneak onto the train.“What’s happening in the world?” she asked to re-engage him.“Some not so good things I’m afraid,” he replied with a sigh, but nuzzled a kiss into her hair. “A journalist in Europe reported Germany is aligning along the Polish border with a significant number of armed troops supported by hundreds of tanks, armored vehicles and field guns. And in Philadelphia, an amateur golfer is being held for involuntary manslaughter. Apparently, after he hit his ball into a sand trap, he swung his niblick wide in a fit of temper and it slipped his grip, striking a nearby caddie in the temple. The caddie died a couple hours later in the hospital of deep cerebral lacerations.”“Oh my word. Maybe I don’t want to know after all.”“I’m happy to tell

“Who are we looking for tonight?” Evelyn asked, lounging in the luxurious bath as Andrew stood at the sink, shaving in the mirror. They’d arrived at the Ambassador earlier that afternoon after successfully avoiding society journalists by assuming casual disguises as they departed the train. His had included the entirely uncharacteristic facial hair he was presently in the process of removing, a light cashmere jersey, blue jeans and pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses they’d picked up Chicago. In her humble opinion, it had done little to make him less noticeable—by her estimation, that and his dark hair left to dry without pomade gave him a certain rugged attraction that upped his masculine appeal. By the same token, he’d scarcely been able to keep his eyes or hands off her, wearing her own blue jeans, a dusky blue shirt with a navy chiffon scarf wrapped over her hair and tucked into the neck of her blouse, and her own chunky sunglasses that completely overpowered her face. While he agreed it