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"Well, that makes two of us." The women reached the second level of the Tower. Nita breathed a sigh of relief, took Miranda's arm, and drew her to the railing. "I get the feeling you haven't told me everything, you know? Trouble, you said, but I figure it must be pretty bad trouble if O'Neil's still around."
"It has nothing to do with me," Miranda said, wishing she believed it. "It's this ambassadorship my stepfather's up for."
"Yeah, that's what your Mr. O'Neil told me. Said there were problems and that he's just doing his job, looking out for your interests and keeping you safe."
"Safe?" Miranda laughed. The wind snatched at her hair and she scooped it back behind her ear. "You want to hear his idea of safe? The jerk wants me to pick up and run. Go back to the States, he says."
"Go back to the States?" Nita squealed with delight and threw her arms around Miranda. "Oh, that's wonderful news, girlfriend, wonderful! I am so glad to hear it!"
"Don't be silly! I'm not—"
"And we'll be friends forever, right? No matter where you or I live."
"Nita, you're not listening to me. I never said—"
"Look, there it is!" Nita's voice rose excitedly. She grabbed Miranda's sleeve, tugged at it and pointed west. "Look!"
"Look at what?"
"Way over there, see? That grey building? The one with the black roof and the chimney pots?"
"All the buildings in Paris are grey, with black roofs and chimney pots," Miranda said, making a face. "Which one am I supposed to be looking at?"
"That one. With the red flowers in the window box."
"Red flowers?" Miranda shielded her eyes with her hands. "How can there be flowers in the window box? It's the middle of winter!"
"They're not real flowers, silly, they're artificial." Nita sighed, flipped up the hood of her hot pink cape and snuggled into it. "Carlos says it's up to the artist to create his own environment."
"Carlos?" Miranda looked at her friend. "Who's Carlos?"
"You see how out of touch you are? Carlos just happens to be the love of my life. I met him at that party we went to last week." Nita smiled slyly. "I'd have introduced you but you cut out early and went off with the guy you keep insisting isn't a hunk."
"He isn't, and I didn't..." Miranda blew out her breath. "Never mind," she said. "Just tell me about Carlos."
"What's to tell?" Nita said dreamily, and launched into a five-minute description that covered everything from Carlos's brown eyes to the way he wanted to paint her, naked on the beach in Tahiti. "I am," she sighed, "head over heels in love!"
Miranda grinned. "Uh-huh."
"Go on, scoff. Carlos is the man I've been looking for my entire life."
"Sure he is."
"You don't believe me?"
"I'd love to believe you but I've heard the story a thousand times before. Well, with bits and pieces changed." Miranda smiled. "I don't think you've ever had a guy wanted to paint you on the beach at Tahiti."
"Not just wants to," Nita said, her voice rising with excitement. "Is!"
"Is what?"
"Carlos is taking me to Tahiti! Isn't that wonderful?"
"Well, sure. A couple of weeks in the sun, while the rest of us shiver in the cold..."
"No, no, you don't understand. We're going to live there."
Miranda stared at Nita. "Live there?" she said, bewildered. "You? And Carlos?"
