to do, but he really, really didn't want to end this outing so prematurely.
Bastien had woken up at six o'clock this morning and hopped eagerly in the shower, his mind on the day ahead. He'd found himself whistling as he show¬ered and dressed, then made his way out to the living room to find Chris Keyes still on the couch, but awake and looking rumpled and miserable. It seemed the editor had suffered a fitful night on the sofa, wak¬ing and dozing off, then waking again, unable to do anything else since he didn't know which room he was supposed to have and would have had trouble getting there on his own anyway.
Bastien had listened with little interest to the man ramble about his rough night, until he heard mention that Terri was fetching a glass of water from the kitchen so that he might take another painkiller. Leaving the editor alone in the living room, he'd im¬mediately headed to the kitchen. There Terri was rinsing out the cup she'd fetched water in the night before. While she'd run fresh water into it, Bastien had asked her about attending a couple of flea mar¬kets with him, surprised at how nervous he felt. It wasn't until she'd turned bright, interested eyes on him and told him she'd love to go that he'd felt him¬self relax.
Assuring her that he'd take her out to breakfast be¬fore they went anywhere, Bastien excused himself. He rode the elevator down to the floor holding the Argeneau offices, and quickly wrote up a list of in¬structions for his secretary to find when she arrived on Monday. He hadn't wanted to forget to have her take care of finding out if there were any relatives that Mrs. Houlihan might have gone to in the city, or to arrange for his kitchen to be stocked, and to have her cancel any business meetings scheduled for the next week. After setting the note on her desk, he'd returned to the penthouse to be informed by a sigh¬ing Chris Keyes that Terri had gone to her room to shower and change.
Bastien had been in such a good mood as he con¬templated the day ahead, he'd taken pity on the edi¬tor and helped him to the room between the one Vincent was occupying and the one Terri was in. He'd even seen the man into the bathroom, waited patiently outside while he saw to his needs, then helped him out and onto the bed. He'd handed Chris the remote control to the television on the console against the wall opposite the bed, and promised he'd have someone deliver him a meal. Then Bastien fetched the gym bag full of clothes he'd gotten the night before and set it on the bed beside him, where it was within easy reach if the editor needed it.
Having done all that he could for Chris at the mo¬ment--or all he was willing to do--he'd gone out to the living room and found Terri dressed and ready to go. All other thoughts had been wiped from his mind at the sight of her happy excited face; and when she'd asked if they were taking a real New York cab and if they were, if she could flag it down like she'd seen done on TV, Bastien had said yes. Her excitement and pleasure as they had headed out and ridden down¬town in the taxi she flagged had carried him along right up until they'd stepped out of the cab and he'd become aware of the sun beating cheerfully down on him. It was then Bastien had realized he'd forgotten the blood. He could not believe that he had been so remiss. He was an idiot! And that idiocy was about to
see him ruin the day. He could not continue to walk around in this heat with the sun killing him.
Perhaps it would help if he bought a big floppy hat and a long-sleeved shirt from one of the booths or something. Bastien grimaced. He might as well buy a clown nose and floppy shoes, too. This day wasn't go¬ing at all as he'd hoped.
"Bastien?" Terri was suddenly at his side, concern on her face. "You look a bit... ill. Are you feeling all right?"
"Yes, I--It's just the heat and sun," he said finally. He wasn't surprised he looked sick. They had been outside for two hours, and he was really starting to feel it.
"I think I could use a break," he admitted, and sighed inwardly at the