“Elizabeth?” came Reed’s voice from the hallway.

Guiltily, she jumped up, dusting off and straightening her hair.

“Yes?” she called back, catching a glimpse of the open, satin-lined, rosewood coin collection box. She scooted to the chest of drawers and shut the lid.

The bedroom door opened, and she struck what she hoped was a casual pose.

“Have you seen my PDA?” he asked.

“Uh, no.” She moved away from the dresser and spotted the coin. It was tipped up against the nightstand, winking under the glow from the Tiffany lamp.

Reed glanced around the room. “I could have sworn I put it in my pocket before I left the office.”

“Did you call it?” she asked, easing toward the coin, planning to camouflage it with her bare foot before his roving gaze landed on it.

She sure didn’t want to have to explain this one.

“Can you dial it for me?” he asked.

“Sure.” She lifted the bedside phone and punched in his cell number, putting herself between Reed and the coin, careful not to disturb its resting place and ruin the toss.

A tone trilled from somewhere in the penthouse.

“Thanks,” he told her, turning for the door.

A few seconds later, he called “Got it” from the living room.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

She eased her foot away and checked out the coin’s position. It was supported by the wood molding, just a hair off vertical. She upped the light on the three-way bulb and leaned her head down. If the nightstand hadn’t got in the way, and the momentum had kept it going, it would have been…Yes! Heads.

She snatched up the coin. The decision was made. She was taking her best friend’s advice over that of a trained medical professional.

On the surface, her decision flew in the face of common sense. But her friend Hanna knew more about her life than Dr. Wendell.