and fished deeper in her pocket to remove a parking ticket, a lone glove, and finally, the room key, which he
plucked from her hand.
"Where's your key?" she asked tartly as she returned the trinkets to her pockets. Then, remembering she sometimes stuffed
cash in the inner pockets, she turned away, unbuttoned her coat and reached inside. Dammit—nothing.
"I didn't think I would need a key, so Steve took it with him."
Which made Janine wish she hadn't even asked, because Steve's name triggered another avalanche of emotions—dread,
shame, remorse. She closed her eyes and moaned. Not in her wildest dreams could she imagine what else could go wrong.
"Janine Murphy, isn't it?"
She whirled and stared blankly at the attractive woman walking by in designer pajamas.
"Maureen Jiles, sales rep for Xcita Pharmaceuticals," the woman said.
Her memory clicked in, and she pulled a smile from somewhere, realizing she knew the woman from the clinic. Maureen
Jiles was the buzz of the doctors' lounge—with her exotic looks and plunging necklines, she couldn't have been more suited to
peddling one of the industry's new impotence drugs. And judging by the way she was eyeing Derek and licking her chops, her
reputation as a man-eater had been well earned.
Janine bristled, not because the woman was ogling Derek, of course, but because she apparently ogled every man. "Maureen.
Sure I remember."
"You were going to marry that yummy plastic surgeon, weren't you?" As she spoke, the woman perused Janine's outfit
beneath the gaping coat, from her shiny bustier to her black-stockinged feet.
Janine nodded and jerked her coat closed, then leaned over to slip on her shoes despite her aching, raw heel. "The day after
tomorrow here at the resort," she said, smiling wide. "Well, isn't this quarantine the most crazy turn of events?"
But Maureen had eyes only for Derek. "Oh, I don't mind being confined … with the right person. Janine, aren't you going to
introduce me to your friend?"
"Derek Stillman," he said, stepping forward.
"And we're not friends," they said in unison.
Maureen looked back and forth between them.
"He's my best man," Janine offered.
Maureen's eyebrows drew together.
"And if you ladies don't mind," Derek said in a tired voice, "I'd like to go to bed now." He nodded to Maureen, then picked
up his bags and disappeared inside the room.
"He's ill," Janine offered in the ensuing silence, then lowered her voice to add, "and probably very contagious."
The woman made a sympathetic sound. "Too bad. So why are you at the resort?"
"Oh, you know, taking care of last-minute wedding details," she sang. "Are you staying on this floor?"
"I'm right here," the woman said, gesturing to the door directly across from theirs.
Her empty stomach lurched. "Oh. That's … lovely."
"Where is your room?"
The door behind Janine opened and Derek appeared. He was naked to the waist, and barefoot. Splendidly so. "Here's the
key," he said. "I'm going to take a shower."
Janine took the key he shoved into her hand and stood rooted to the floor after the door closed again. Interminable seconds
later, she lifted her gaze to find Maureen's eyebrows up to her hairline. Everyone she worked with, including Steve's
associates, would know about the sleeping arrangements in a matter of hours unless she thought of something fast.
"It's n-not what you think," she said hurriedly. "I came to see my fiancé, b-but he planned to be out all night for his bachelor
party, and he'd given his room to Derek b-because he wasn't feeling well, and now there aren't any rooms available, and,
well…" She swallowed, desperate. "Derek is gay."
Maureen's smile fell and she grunted in frustration. "All the cute ones are!"
Janine sighed and shook her head. "I know."
Dejected, the woman turned and unlocked her door. "Well, good night, I guess."
She gave her neighbor a fluttery little wave. When Maureen's door closed, Janine leaned heavily against the wall,
plucked from her hand.
"Where's your key?" she asked tartly as she returned the trinkets to her pockets. Then, remembering she sometimes stuffed
cash in the inner pockets, she turned away, unbuttoned her coat and reached inside. Dammit—nothing.
"I didn't think I would need a key, so Steve took it with him."
Which made Janine wish she hadn't even asked, because Steve's name triggered another avalanche of emotions—dread,
shame, remorse. She closed her eyes and moaned. Not in her wildest dreams could she imagine what else could go wrong.
"Janine Murphy, isn't it?"
She whirled and stared blankly at the attractive woman walking by in designer pajamas.
"Maureen Jiles, sales rep for Xcita Pharmaceuticals," the woman said.
Her memory clicked in, and she pulled a smile from somewhere, realizing she knew the woman from the clinic. Maureen
Jiles was the buzz of the doctors' lounge—with her exotic looks and plunging necklines, she couldn't have been more suited to
peddling one of the industry's new impotence drugs. And judging by the way she was eyeing Derek and licking her chops, her
reputation as a man-eater had been well earned.
Janine bristled, not because the woman was ogling Derek, of course, but because she apparently ogled every man. "Maureen.
Sure I remember."
"You were going to marry that yummy plastic surgeon, weren't you?" As she spoke, the woman perused Janine's outfit
beneath the gaping coat, from her shiny bustier to her black-stockinged feet.
Janine nodded and jerked her coat closed, then leaned over to slip on her shoes despite her aching, raw heel. "The day after
tomorrow here at the resort," she said, smiling wide. "Well, isn't this quarantine the most crazy turn of events?"
But Maureen had eyes only for Derek. "Oh, I don't mind being confined … with the right person. Janine, aren't you going to
introduce me to your friend?"
"Derek Stillman," he said, stepping forward.
"And we're not friends," they said in unison.
Maureen looked back and forth between them.
"He's my best man," Janine offered.
Maureen's eyebrows drew together.
"And if you ladies don't mind," Derek said in a tired voice, "I'd like to go to bed now." He nodded to Maureen, then picked
up his bags and disappeared inside the room.
"He's ill," Janine offered in the ensuing silence, then lowered her voice to add, "and probably very contagious."
The woman made a sympathetic sound. "Too bad. So why are you at the resort?"
"Oh, you know, taking care of last-minute wedding details," she sang. "Are you staying on this floor?"
"I'm right here," the woman said, gesturing to the door directly across from theirs.
Her empty stomach lurched. "Oh. That's … lovely."
"Where is your room?"
The door behind Janine opened and Derek appeared. He was naked to the waist, and barefoot. Splendidly so. "Here's the
key," he said. "I'm going to take a shower."
Janine took the key he shoved into her hand and stood rooted to the floor after the door closed again. Interminable seconds
later, she lifted her gaze to find Maureen's eyebrows up to her hairline. Everyone she worked with, including Steve's
associates, would know about the sleeping arrangements in a matter of hours unless she thought of something fast.
"It's n-not what you think," she said hurriedly. "I came to see my fiancé, b-but he planned to be out all night for his bachelor
party, and he'd given his room to Derek b-because he wasn't feeling well, and now there aren't any rooms available, and,
well…" She swallowed, desperate. "Derek is gay."
Maureen's smile fell and she grunted in frustration. "All the cute ones are!"
Janine sighed and shook her head. "I know."
Dejected, the woman turned and unlocked her door. "Well, good night, I guess."
She gave her neighbor a fluttery little wave. When Maureen's door closed, Janine leaned heavily against the wall,
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