The doctor’s lips twitched slightly, and Chloe noticed her unintentional double entendre. She flushed but decided to ignore it.

“He’s so rarely ill that I don’t know if he’s prone to high fevers, but I suspect that it’s just his body’s normal reaction to the flu. Of course, I’ll keep a close eye on him to make sure it’s not pneumonia or something more sinister.”

“Have you been his doctor long?” Chloe asked.

“Since I graduated from medical school,” Cavill said. “We were friends as kids, so I keep a close eye on more than just his physical health.”

It sounded as though he was trying to send her some kind of warning, but she couldn’t figure out why he would feel the need to. In fact, she felt better knowing Trainor had a friend watching over him during his illness. “He’s lucky to have you.”

Cavill’s eyebrows rose and he looked taken aback. “I’m not sure he’d agree at the moment.”

“Where are we going?” Chloe asked after a moment of silence.

“To Nathan’s home on the West Side.” Cavill continued to watch her closely.

To avoid his scrutiny, she looked down at the man on the stretcher. He still had that hectic flush in his cheeks but he had stopped tossing and turning as though every inch of his body hurt.

The ambulance swerved over to the curb. The orderlies leaped out and swiftly unloaded the stretcher. Cavill helped her out of the back of the vehicle and started to lead the cavalcade toward the front door of a modern high-rise building sheathed in granite.

“I’ll just catch a cab back to the office,” Chloe said. She was sure Trainor Electronics would foot the bill.

“I’d rather you stayed,” Cavill said. “In his delirium, he seems to have fixated on you as a caretaker.”

The doctor didn’t sound particularly happy about having her involved, but then Chloe wasn’t either. This was the strangest situation she’d ever found herself in.

As she followed the stretcher out of the elevator doors on the level marked P-2, Chloe gawked at the huge bronze-and-crystal chandelier hanging at nearly eye level with the gallery they walked onto. A beautifully carved wooden balustrade curled around three sides of the space before it plunged downward along a grand staircase, leading to an exquisite marble mosaic floor below. Cavill walked briskly toward a wide hallway, carpeted with a gold-and-blue Oriental runner, and Chloe had to jog to catch up.

The rich really were different.

A woman dressed in a crisp nurse’s uniform came out of the door at the end of the hallway to meet them. “I’ve got the IV set up for hydration,” she said to the doctor.

He nodded and directed the orderlies into the room before he turned to Chloe. “You can wait in that bedroom to the right. As soon as we’ve got him undressed and in bed, we’ll see if he still thinks you’ll make it better.” He gave her a tight smile before he disappeared through the big door.

Chloe wandered into the bedroom the doctor had pointed out. It was decorated in a mix of modern and antique furniture that was surprisingly harmonious. “I guess he hired a really good decorator,” she muttered, trailing her finger over the smooth curves of a Chinese ceramic horse sculpture. The room had no personal touches, nothing that said someone lived in it, so she assumed it was a guest room. Sliding doors beckoned her past the seating area furnished with a deep yellow chaise longue that looked perfect for a long session with a good book.

She tested the slider and found it unlocked. “Well, duh, no one’s going to climb up fifty floors,” she reminded herself. Stepping outside the door, she gaped. The terrace spread out in front of her and to her left and right. Full-size trees in enormous terra-cotta pots rustled in the considerable breeze, while everywhere she looked flower boxes glowed with brilliant fall blossoms. Lounge chairs sat on platforms, so their reclining occupants could watch the ships and barges pass by on the Hudson River or enjoy the autumn-burnished cliffs gracing the shore of New Jersey. There were tables to eat on, folded-up awnings and umbrellas to cast shade, and a couple of burbling fountains.

All Chloe could do was stare. This demonstrated a wealth beyond anything she could wrap her mind around. Pulling the lapels of her jacket together to combat the brisk wind, she walked across the big square tiles to the railing, took a deep breath, and looked over. The cars and taxis seemed like toys as they zipped along the narrow street below. She straightened back up and fixed her gaze on a tugboat laboring up the Hudson River with its bow nudged against a barge three times its size. There were times when she felt like that tug, trying to keep herself and Grandmillie moving forward against the current that kept thrusting her back toward the churn of the ocean.

“Ms. Russell!” Cavill sounded annoyed.

She scurried back across the terrace, hoping he hadn’t been calling her for long. “I’m sorry. It’s such an amazing view,” she said.

He didn’t bother to answer that. “Nathan wants you to read him a report,” he said.

“A report?” This just got weirder.

“Some marketing report he said you’d worked on.”

“Oh, the one I edited. It’s on the computer at the office.”

“You have a smartphone?” the doctor asked.

Chloe pulled her Droid out of the handbag she’d been carrying around with her.

“Get someone to e-mail it to you on that.” Cavill spun on his heel and went back into the guest room, clearly expecting her to follow him. “What temp agency do you work for?”