“How’s the car?” he asked.

Maggie launched into ten minutes of praise complete with technical details. She paused only when she recognized Jon’s “uh-huhs” for what they were. Lack of interest.

“You’re writing an e-mail, aren’t you?” she demanded.

“No. Of course not. I’m mesmerized by, ah, the V-8 engine.”

“It’s a V-12 and I’ll stop talking about it now. I should let you get back to work.”

“I’m glad you got the job. Let me know how it goes. Or if you need anything.”

“I will. Say hi to Elaine.”

Jon didn’t answer.

Maggie sighed. “I mean it. Say hi to her. I’m happy for you, Jonny.”

“Maggie-”

“Don’t. We’re friends. That’s what we’re supposed to be. We both know that. I gotta run. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”

She hung up before he could say anything else.

Despite the late hour, she was too restless to go to bed. Jet lag, she thought, knowing the twelve-or fifteen-hour time difference had messed up her body clock.

She’d traded in her pantsuit for jeans and a T-shirt. After slipping her feet into a pair of flip-flops, she opened the French doors and stepped out into the cool night air.

Her rooms faced the ocean, which was pretty exciting. Back home she had great views of the mountains, but vast expanses of water was its own special treat.

“Don’t get used to living like this,” she reminded herself. She’d rented out her house for the next couple of months. It was the end of ski season in Aspen and rentals still went for a premium. But once the job was done, she would be returning to the small house where she’d grown up, with its creaky stairs and single bathroom.

She breathed in the smell of salt air. There were lights in the garden below and the sound of voices in the distance. From what she could tell, the balcony circled the entire palace. Curious and eager to explore, Maggie closed her door behind her and started walking.