Now Margo could put a name on it. ?He? had simply smelled wrong. He smelledof wild flowers. She little to do with males of late, but remembered the ma...eswhom her mother kept in the pens on her ranch or thought of the young oneswhom some of her friends kept at home, she had never encountered one who usedperfume. Cleanliness alone was a seldom achieved accomplishment for males. Margo then looked up again and saw young Phyllis, the teenage daughter ofher neighbor down the street, lift off the. She just hoped she remembered which level it was on. Then she heard his voice coming from the terrace.She poked her head out and found it unseasonably warm. Mac was sitting at a little table, drinking tea and talking to someone on the phone.“Yes. Of course. Please, don’t be silly; I’m sure Grace has already picked out your room for you. No, tomorrow’s perfect. We’ll see you then.”“Good morning, Grace,” Mac said as he motioned for her to come to sit on his lap.She walked to him and allowed him. More

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