Small Town Girl by Linda Cunningham

and slightly nauseous from getting stuck in traffic twice. The doorman smiled at her as she walked in. “Evening, Miss Smith,” he said.
    “Oh, Albert, good evening. Is Charles home yet?”
    “No, ma’am. I’ve been here since two this afternoon. Tina’s been in and out a couple of times, but that’s all. You look tired, miss.”
    “I am, Albert, I am. I just drove down from New England after a couple of irritating days up there on family business. I’m just glad to get home.”
    “Well,” said the doorman, smiling and pushing the elevator buttons for her, “You just get in a hot tub and relax for a while. I’ll give Dennis the heads-up.”
    “Thank you, Albert,” Lauren said as the elevator door closed. Up, up, up she felt the elevator go, and with each floor, she felt a little better. This was where she belonged. She would find out from Dennis whether Charles was coming home tonight or whether he had already left for Singapore. At any rate, she was glad her fiancé was not at home. She would have time to shower and change before greeting him. She would have time to leave Caleb Cochran behind, once and for all.
    Dennis met her at the door in the private entrance. “Good evening, Lauren,” he said. Impeccably dressed as ever in a dark suit, he reached out and took Lauren’s laundry and overnight bags from her.
    “Thanks, Dennis,” she said. “I’m exhausted.”
    “Traffic bad?”
    “Yes. Is Charles at home?”
    “He’s not here, no, miss.”
    “Did he leave for Singapore?”
    “Ah, that’s the good news, miss. He told me to tell you he would be in a meeting this evening until about eight, but that he wouldn’t be leaving for Singapore until day after tomorrow. So, yes, he will be home later this evening.”
    “Oh, that’s wonderful news, Dennis. Thanks. I’ll have time to get cleaned up.”
    “You run along and freshen up. I’ll take these things into Tina. She’ll make short work of them.”
    Lauren smiled and went on her way to the master bedroom.
    The penthouse really was spectacular. It had been featured in Architectural Digest and The New York Times ’ style section. Every time she entered it, Lauren felt awe. The foyer was a dimly lit hall with hidden closet doors. The walls were lined with lighted niches housing Charles’s porcelain collection. Charles had worked the Pacific Rim for years and had collected some priceless pieces. Lauren, with her museum experience, had helped him design the display. She was very proud of the way it had turned out. The foyer led to the formal living room, a massive room with a great stone-faced fireplace and four floor-to-ceiling French windows that opened onto a generous rooftop garden planted with pots of colorful flowers. A gardening service came once a week from April to October to care for them. To the right of the living room were the dining room, kitchen, butler’s pantry, and staff quarters. To the left was a wide hallway hung with some of Charles’s extensive art collection. The hallway led to the master bedroom suite and two guest suites.
    Lauren wandered down the hallway and opened the door to the master suite. The bedroom was a large, square room with French windows opening onto a small balcony. The king-sized bed was against the wall facing the balcony. A huge mirror hung over the head of the bed, and there were built-in bookcases and shelving on either side. The room was sleek and contemporary. An original custom-made chandelier hung over the bed. It was designed to look like a meteor shower, and the shiny metal arced out asymmetrically. Reading lights swung out from the cabinetry next to each side of the bed, and at its foot was a red leather bench, upon which Lauren plunked her purse.
    For a moment, Lauren perched on the edge of the bed. She stared at the wall where a collection of eighteenth century landscapes hung over a Duncan Phyfe writing desk flanked by two deep wing chairs. Usually, the old landscapes with their sweeping