her passport from the anonymous boy and fled in the other direction as a man in a repulsive tweed suit approached the front desk. She could feel another ugly scene brewing and wanted to be as far away from it as possible.

She still felt terribly weak at the knees, and she steadied herself on the handrail as the lift jerkily rose to her floor. If they wanted her passport they could bloody well come to her room and get it, she thought irritably to herself.

She closed the door to her room behind her and leaned on the other side wearily, as though she might fall asleep and barricade the door with her slight frame. The window was closed and the room felt hot and close. Dancing dust motes clustered thickly in the narrow sunbeams.

Kiki threw open the window to let in the cooling, dry air.
She turned and sat in the leather wingback chair that faced the patio. She sipped at a flat-tasting glass of water beside her on the table. Leather creaked with her body's shifting weight and that bothered her somehow now that the room and hotel grounds seemed quieter. She felt awfully alone.

Suddenly what she felt was dizzy and nauseated. I can't be this upset about John, she thought muzzily to herself. I barely know the man...she felt her stomach churn threateningly and lurched to the water closet just in time.