Author's disclaimer: Ray/Armando isn't mine. He belongs to Alliance. "You were Meant for Me" and "Remember" are Michael Franks' and can be heard on the "Dragonfly Summer" CD. Board Game "Clue" belongs to Parker Brothers.

Author's notes: First in a series of stories revolving around Ray pretending to be someone he's not. Constructive criticism always welcome. This is the first story I've felt confident enough of to share.

Ray Vecchio felt like a complete fraud. It had started with his decision to go deep under cover as Armando Langostini, affiliated with the Iguana Family, Southwest branch in Las Vegas. Granted the perks that came with the name were impressive And he knew that the information he was gathering would help put several criminals in prison for a very long time. But it had taken him a while to really get into the role during which he kept mostly to himself in his mansion.

He knew he needed to make public appearances as Armando so it would appear that he was a legitimate business man. So he chose his first one carefully, a charity masquerade ball. He thought of his last masquerade ball. Well, technically, it wasn't a masquerade but he was in costume. He'd been dressed up in red serge, pretending to be a mountie on sentry duty at the Canadian Consulate. Just one of the many time's he'd had to save Fraser from his own excessive 'mountieness'.

He thought about Fraser for a moment, wondering what the mountie would say if he could see him. On the up side, the tuxedo was Giorgio Armani. On the down side, the mask looked more like Maurice Sendak. Oh well, it was the fashion, he'd been told. And he did love to be fashionable.

The limousine stopped. He heard Gino, his driver get out and come around to open his door. "Well Armando," he muttered under his breath, "it's show time." He put on his mask and exited the sleek black Cadillac.

Just inside the doorway to the great hall, he stopped to present his reservation to a dark brunette woman in a raven's mask.

"Good evening sir, you'll be seated at table number seven tonight. Dinner is being served in the Crimson hall to your left. Registration for the live and the silent charity auctions is just outside the Crimson hall and the items up for auctions are on display throughout the lobby and in the Lavender room just across from the Crimson hall. Dancing will be on the terrazzo. And the bar is just to your right next to the coat check. Do enjoy your evening."

He sighed. Her tone had been too obsequious. He knew she had seen that he'd contributed enough to reserve an entire table and then left the other seats open so the charity could make even more money. Oh well. "Time to check out the auction, " he thought.

It was an amazing display of goods and services. There were wines of the finest vintages. Weekend packages to the trendy resorts in the area; including the one where the ball was being held. Beautiful artwork in even more beautiful frames. One picture in particular caught his attention. It was a black and white print worthy of Ansel Adams in a black steel frame with a stark white matte. But instead of a breath taking vista, the subject was a young man with spiked blonde hair, shirtless with tattoos on his arms, holding a puppy. The puppy had the same clear ice blue eyes as the young man. But there was something even more familiar about it. As he looked at it, Ray realized that it could be one of Diefenbaker & Maggie's puppies. He let out a small gasp as the recognition hit him.

"Quite a powerful image isn't it?" a female voice asked

Ray looked over and saw a woman he hadn't noticed before though he didn't know why. She was wearing a black silk dress with short sleeves and a round neck covered in black beads and sequins. A shawl of the lightest weight wool wrapped gossamer like around her shoulders. And her mask was an abstract work of amethyst, sapphire, jet and teal beads, sequins and feathers that matched the colors of her shawl.

"As are you." he replied finally finding his voice.

"Oh, aren't you the smooth talker." She extended her right hand. "I'd introduce myself but I understand that's a gross breach of some sort of masquerade etiquette."

He gently kissed the back of her hand before responding. "And I'd hate to be cited by Miss Manners. So, shall I call you Ms. Peacock?" he asked referring to the board game 'Clue'.

The woman felt chills run through her all body until they stopped at her breasts making her nipples hard. With great difficulty she maintained her composure and said a pleasant "nice to meet you, Mr. Body" before she turned and walked away.

Ray watched her for a moment before he realized that he was staring at her and not at the auction items. There was something different about her. And it wasn't just the abstract pattern to her mask and shawl. It took him quite a while before he realized that it was her dress. She was the only one he'd seen wearing a short dress. Not that it was that short he rationalized. It stopped just above her knees and left her lovely calf muscles exposed under sheer black stockings. Her shoes were of a most interesting design. They were quite open and made Ray think about developing a foot fetish. He made a few bids for the silent auction and then retired to the adjacent room for dinner. The numbers on the tables appeared to be in no semblance of order. It was as if someone had randomly assigned the numbers. "Well, it's an interesting way to get people to mingle" he thought as he asked about a dozen people if they'd seen table seven. When he finally arrived there, he found only one empty seat left, next to Ms. Peacock.

"So, we meet again." she said pleasantly.

"So it would appear."

Small talk, the kind Ray abhorred, predominated at their table. He thought he shouldn't be surprised since none of his dining companions seemed to know each other. He heard Ms. Peacock say something about art therapy to a woman across the table from her. Then she looked straight at him.

"What about you Mr. Body? How did you come to be a benefactor of the AIDS Hospice and Resource Center?"

"Well, actually, I'm rather new to the area. But some of my business partners recommended it. They had high praise for the work that's done here."

"And these business partners aren't attending with you tonight?"

"No, they're taking care of business." he replied vaguely.

"Ahh", she responded equally vaguely

More small talk ensued through out the rest of the meal. Ray noticed when the peacock excused herself to search for the powder room.

She had to get away from 'Mr. Body'. She'd heard the expression 'magnetic personality' but had never experienced it so vividly. Just sitting next to him had her body buzzing. It took several minutes before she felt she could re-join the party. Just after stepping out of the powder room she saw one of the center's volunteers who grabbed her arm and led her to where dessert was being served in the terrazzo. There she saw tables of crystal goblets being filled with cherries jubilee and bananas foster. She reached for a goblet filled with the sweet bing cherries.

Another hand reached for the same goblet at the same time. She knew without looking up who it was by the way her skin reacted to the touch. She looked up into his masked face and attempted a glib clich'.

"We have got to stop meeting like this. People are going to start talking."

"Would that be such a bad thing? After all, here I am a perfectly respectable business man and here you are an art therapist...whatever that is."

The young lady had to laugh. "No, I'm not an art therapist. I just volunteer at the center in the art therapy program."

"Then what is it that you do for a living?"

"I'm a fibre artist."

"Fibre artist?"

She pirouetted on her toes and let her shawl flutter slightly. "From the sheep's back to mine."

It took a second for the implication to sink into Ray's brain. "You made that?"

"Drew the design. Sheered the sheep. Died the wool. Spun it into yarn and knitted the shawl."

"Ms. Peacock, you are a woman of unplumbed depths. Would you do me the honor of being my companion for the rest of this evening?"

"Only if you'll stop calling me Ms. Peacock."

Ray felt considerably more at ease now that he had someone to talk to. This woman was certainly charming. He looked at her critically utilizing all his skills as a detective. She was very different from most of the other guests. He judged her to be in her early thirties, about 5'7" in bare feet, and about 160 pounds. Too young to be a society matron. Not tall and lanky enough to be a fashion model. When he'd kissed her hand, he'd noticed that the so soft skin covered strong muscles. Those same strong muscles were mirrored in her arms and calf muscles.

For all her bravado, he sensed an innate shyness in her. When he watched her talking to people she obviously knew and those she didn't, he saw a slight but discernible difference. With those people she knew, there was an almost visible aura or energy field surrounding her. He wished he could be totally honest with her but knew it couldn't happen. They went to check out more auction items when they were separated by the crowd. When he spotted her again, she was at the same place they'd met. Staring at the puppy picture.

She sighed, "I guess it wasn't meant to be mine."

"Why's that?" he asked.

"I've been outbid and I've reached my limit. Oh, well, I hope whoever takes it home appreciates it."

Ray looked closer and realized that his was the by far highest bid. He'd planned on giving it to Benny if he ever got out of this gig and got back to Chicago.

Strains of music wafted to their ears from the terrazzo.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked.

"I'd love to."

It was a magical night for his new companion. 'Mr. Body' had been a perfect gentleman. There was something slightly familiar about him; something she just couldn't pin down. She asked him where he'd lived before.

"Out east. How about you?"

"What makes you think I'm not a native?"

"Just a hunch."

"Well, it's a good one. I grew up near LaPorte, Indiana. I'm sure you've never heard of it. It's in the northwest part of the state. Then I went to school at the Art Institute of Chicago."

"So, what brought you out west?"

"Oh, it's a long and boring story and this is not the night for long and boring stories."

"Oh, what is this the night for?"

"Mystery." she replied laughing.

They continued to dance for quite a while. As the strain's of Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade drew to a close, the orchestra leader announced that it was just a few minutes before midnight, and the ritual unmasking was about to take place. Ray felt his partner stiffen slightly in his arms even though she tried to keep her voice light.

"Well, Mr. Body, I've had a lovely evening but it's late and I really need to leave."

"I don't want you to go."

"Oh but if I stay, I'll turn into a pumpkin."

She actually heard a clock begin to chime. She knew she had to get out of there quickly and used all the strength and agility she'd developed wrestling unshorn sheep to break free. She managed to get several feet away before she felt him grab her wrist.

"No," he said. "This time Cinderella doesn't leave the ball." And he backed her into a corner. As the last chime rang, he took off his mask.

"Oh my God," she thought as she now had a full view of the face that had been partially obscured by his mask. His eyes were warm like two pieces of amber with just a hint of emerald. His lips, no longer framed by the mask, seemed just perfect for his face. And then she saw those lips coming closer to her own.

"Armando Langostini", he whispered as his face came ever closer to hers.

"'Sandra Bartholomew", she managed to reply.

Even if she hadn't been physically cornered, her body wouldn't have allowed her to move. It was as if every muscle from her shoulders down, had been dipped in liquid nitrogen and was frozen for all time.

His kiss was like nothing she'd ever experienced before. She thought she knew what to expect from when he'd kissed her hand earlier. But she was wrong. This was far more intense. His lips were not only soft, they were nimble as they moved against hers. "Please, come home with me and spend the night", he whispered and then nibbled on her earlobe skillfully working around an earring.

"Oh, Armando," she replied breathlessly. "I can't. My car is here and..."

"I'll take care of everything. Please, I want you so much."

"No, you don't. You want the illusion."

He reached out and gently removed the mask from her face. She wasn't pretty; not in the popular sense. He'd expected that. But he couldn't stop looking at her. There was something very alive about her that transcended any physical beauty. Her features were soft but seemed so incongruous with her hair pulled back off her face. He reached behind her to find the pins she'd used to anchor her auburn locks away from her face. And when he removed them, the most beautiful waves and curls came forward to frame her face. Her eyes, the color of the finest jade, softened momentarily. And he held her close to him.

"No, not illusion" he whispered. "The reality is far better."

"Oh, there you go again, still the smooth talker."

He kissed her again slowly leading her back onto the dance floor. Their bodies so close, their hearts beating loudly and in unison.

"Please," he implored again. "Let's leave now. Come home with me."

"Why not just stay here and let the evening finish naturally?"

"Because I don't want to share you with the rest of these people. I want you all alone."
"But if we're all alone, something may happen that...", she didn't want to say the words 'we would regret'.

"Never", he said. "Nothing will happen that you don't want. We'll only be as intimate as you wish."

"Armando, if I go home with you, we *will* be intimate, very intimate. I wanted you from the moment you kissed my hand."

"Then come home with me and give us a chance."

He could tell she was very close to saying yes so he just continued to hold her close and dance in silence.

"What about my car?"

"Well, we can leave it here and bring you back in the morning. Or I can have one of my employees come out and bring it back to my place."

Every ounce of common sense told her it was crazy to trust this man whom she'd just met. But in her deepest gut feelings, she knew she could. There was just one question that had to be asked.

"Who are you, Armando Langostini, that you can call 'employees' in the middle of the night to come out into the desert and do your bidding.

He laughed. "Just a very wealthy and generous employer."

"This is absolutely nuts, but I can't say 'no' to you. You've made me an offer I can't refuse."

He winced at that reference. She saw it.

"Say, you're not like some Mafia guy, are you?" she said half teasingly.

"No, it's just a reference my Italian heritage never gets used to."

"Sorry," she said. "Look, before we leave I need to say good-bye to a few people. And I probably ought to go powder my nose."

"I'll call my driver and have him bring someone to get your car. Meet me back here in about 15 minutes?"

"I'll be waiting in our corner." She kissed his cheek before she left.

Ray called home and spoke at length to Nero, his butler giving him detailed instructions on what he wanted, knowing it would be taken care of. Then he went to pay for his auction purchases and made a generous donation to have them well disguised.

When he returned to their corner at the appointed time, Sandra was nowhere to be found. He experienced a momentary panic that she had ditched him. Then he saw the bright colors of her shawl and realized she was speaking with a man she obviously knew well. She was laughing hard and her bright green eyes were brimming with tears of amusement. The aura was there, he noticed. He wanted to join her but felt it was more prudent to just wait and watch. He didn't have to wait long.

She glanced back at the corner and saw him there waiting patiently for her. He smiled at her and watched as she took her leave from the gentleman. She walked casually to him. He loved the way she moved when she walked and when she danced. Would he also love the way she moved when she was horizontal? He didn't see any reason to think he'd be disappointed. Her hips swayed temptingly and he longed to feel himself buried inside that sway.

"Cool it," he told himself. "Remember your promise."

"Well, I'm ready." she said. "Are you?"

"I think we've got time for one more dance." he responded and swung her out onto the dance floor.

His timing was perfect. The limousine had just pulled up and two men exited the front seat. One man came around to the passenger door and the other went directly to Armando.

"Mike, this is Sandra Bartholomew. You're going to be driving her car back home. Now I'm not sure that I've convinced her that I'm not some sort of car theif or gangster so I'd like you to stay just in front of the limo so she can keep her eye on you. Understand?"

"Certainly sir." He turned to his boss' companion and asked, "Has the valet already been sent for your car?"

"Oh, I totally forgot." She handed the valet her ticket and the two men went off at a fast trot. Armando's mouth hung open when the men came back with a classic Merceds 450 SL Convertible.

The valet jumped out and winked at Sandra. "Great wheels", he said.

She noticed his mouth was still hanging open when she looked at him.

"What? I play with sheep, therefore I can't have a nice car? Get real!"

She laughed as she entered the awaiting limousine.

Armando's home was breathtaking beyond Sandra's imagination. The butler greeted them at the door and took her shawl. Without it or her mask she was suddenly feeling very vulnerable. She shivered. Ray removed his jacket and handed it to the butler as well; then he removed his tie, kicked off his shoes, loosened his collar and sighed comfortably before leading her into the sunken living room. She listened to her heels click across the hardwood floor and decided this wouldn't work so she slipped off her shoes and lost two inches of height. Ray flipped a wall switch and the lights dimmed. Then another switch and a fire suddenly appeared in the fireplace. Lastly he picked up a remote control and pointed it towards a dimly lit corner. Music began to play. It was Michael Franks. She loved his music. How had Armando known? She looked up at his face before he pulled her close to dance. It revealed nothing.

Several songs and many wonderful kisses later, she finally found the courage to speak.

"Armando, I want you."

The words were even more musical than he'd imagined. But he was still a gentleman. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"More than anything."

They continued dancing and kissing as he began to disrobe her. Her dress unzipped easily and slid off her body to the floor. She was wearing a black bustier; her nipples just barely contained in it. Black silk panties covered the swell of her hips. And the sheer black stockings he'd noticed earlier, clung to her thighs with elastic welts. He'd been without female companionship for so long that he had to restrain himself from simply ravishing her. This was not a woman to ravish. This was a woman he wanted to savor. He let the music bring him back to the here and now.

'Flirting with temptation
Falling helplessly
From the moment I saw you
I knew that
You were meant for me

All those years to find you
Love's telepathy
Guided me like a heartbeat
Repeating:
You are meant for me

Such a samba
Ay caramba!
Dancing close so
Sensuoso

Rhythms underneath the tropic skies
Helped me to realize
How evidently you were meant for me

There's just one solution
To this mystery
Give your heart in surrender
Admit that
You were meant for me

Such a samba
Ay caramba!
Dancing close so
Sensuoso

Rhythms underneath the tropic skies
Helped me to realize
How evidently you were meant for me

You were meant for me.

You were meant for me.

You were meant for me.

Before he realized it she had completely unbuttoned his shirt and was kissing her way down from his chest. She was on her knees before him, removing his belt, unzipping his trousers and pulling them down over his slender hips. She buried her face in his crotch for a moment delighting in the feel of silk boxers against her skin. When she looked up, there was a sparkle of devilment in her eyes.

"Well, what do I want to do next? I'm here and I could go for the obvious. Or I could move and do something else."

"Please." she heard him hiss.

"Please, what?" she inquired.

"Please suck me." he nearly groaned.

"Understood." she said softly and immediately got to work.

"Ohh", he groaned.

She continued pleasuring him orally until he could take no more. He knew he was riding the ragged edge of disaster and didn't want this to end so abruptly. She paused momentarily and he saw his opportunity. He took a half step backwards and put his hands gently under her chin. She looked up at him again.

"Come up here." he said, this time the spark was in his eyes.

He stepped out of his clothes, swept her up into his arms and carried her off to his bed room. He laid her down on his high four poster bed and peeled her stockings down her shapely legs kissing each inch of flesh he exposed. She squirmed with delight. The panties were next and finally the bustier. Her breasts were magnificent, not too large, not too small. Just perfect. Like sun ripened fruit of the gods. And it was a fruit he had to taste.

Sandra could be silent no longer. "Oh, God, yes" she moaned as she felt his lips on her skin. That's all he needed to hear and let loose some of his animalistic urges. She seemed to feel the same things and they rolled around and wallowed in the sensations for several long minutes.

They stopped for a minute to catch their breath. Ray handed her a glass of wine. She drank deeply savoring the chill of the liquid. She realized that she was no longer cold. It was as if her entire body was on fire. She handed the glass back and noticed as he drank that he was still wearing his silks.

"You do realize that those are going to have to come off before we proceed, don't you?"

"All you have to do is ask. Remember, tonight we're only doing what you want to do."

"You're either the most well mannered lover God ever put on this planet or you're trying to find a graceful way out."

"I told you before. I don't want to be cited by Miss Manners." His tone was playful but earnest. She really believed him.

"Armando, I want to make love with you." she said taking back the wine glass.

"I'd love to."

Sandra turned to put the wine glass down on top of the night stand. She heard him open a drawer and was curious as to what he'd bring out. When he turned around again she had her answer.

"A condom?"

"I was never a boy scout but I do believe in being prepared."

"Thank you. Miss Manners couldn't complain. You've been a perfect gentleman all evening."

"But not for much longer" he leered.

She rolled over on top to cover him in kisses and he responded in kind. Moments later she was on her back and felt him entering her. It was a magical moment and he was drawing it out for maximum effect. Ray knew he was rather well endowed and wanted to move slowly and give her a chance to get used to it. He also wanted to extend his own pleasure. When he felt her completely envelope him, he stopped for a moment. He looked down to see her eyes were wide open in astonishment.

"Are you okay?" he asked solicitously.

Her only answer was to smile and gently move her hips forward to press against him. He remained motionless and let her move against and around him. Yes, it was exquisite to be buried in the sway of her hips, just as he thought it would. But he could stay still no longer. He had to start moving with her. Soon they were locked in a rhythm that was pushing them towards an inevitable zenith. The waves of pleasure crested over her first and then bounced off him. She could not remember ever having such an intense sexual experience and when it was over, she laid perfectly still, barely breathing.

She was unaware that there was another person in the bed with her. She had completely withdrawn into herself. She didn't know Armando was looking down into her perfectly placid face. She had no awareness of his concern. She only knew that she had just shared her spiritual essence with a stranger. And she wasn't sure what to do next.

Ray's concern was growing. He could see the pulse of her heart between her breasts. But she was so very deeply still and didn't respond when he'd whispered her name. He rolled over next to her and felt a small chill. He pulled a quilt over them from the foot of the bed. And then he laid there and watched her. He was reasonably sure she wasn't asleep. Her breathing didn't seem right for some one in the depths of an exhausted slumber. So he tried talking to her.

"Sandra, I have to tell you something. I didn't go to the masquerade tonight looking to get laid. I didn't even consider it a possibility. I just hoped to meet some people in my new home town. I can't explain what attracted me to you. But I'm so glad I found you. Tonight has been the most soul stirring experience of my life.

"Please, open your eyes. Look at me. I want you to see that what I'm saying is the absolute, God's honest truth. Please Sandra."

She could hear him but didn't know how to respond. She wanted more time for introspection; time to really understand all the ramifications and consequences of her actions. So she merely reached out her hand to find his. And when she did, she squeezed it.

"Not yet, Armando" she whispered as she retreated back into herself.

Ray was only slightly reassured by her words and her touch. But he wanted to respect her wishes so he stayed where he was and continued to watch her. He knew he should be exhausted and falling asleep by now. So why had he never felt more alert and alive? What had she done to him? He knew that this had to be a one time thing but didn't want it to be. He wanted her with him always. How could he feel this way?

It had all seemed so easy. When the Justice Department had approached him about taking this job, it seemed like a good idea at the time. His career with the Chicago police department had stalled. There wasn't much to hold him to the Windy City. Leaving his family had been a little tough. Leaving Benny was even tougher. Fortunately, his friend had been in Canada when the Feds came knocking at his door so there was one less person to say good-bye to. His love life had been non-existent. He'd been shot down by so many women back home that he'd started to develop a complex. And then Irene Zuko, the woman he'd loved since Junior High, had died in his arms, shot by her own brother. What a golden opportunity this was. Move two thousand miles away. Pretend to be someone you're not and gather information that could put scum like Frank Zuko away for a very long time. Yes, it had all seemed so easy. He hadn't considered the possibility meeting this sorceress.

He was lost in his thoughts when he felt movement beside him. He quickly focused his attention back to the exquisite creature who had done so much for him in such a short time. Her eyes were open but they appeared to be gazing at a point on the wall beyond his shoulder.

A question he wasn't sure he should ask was burning inside him. "Any regrets?"

She smiled wanly. "Only one," she responded deliberately misunderstanding his question. "I really wish I'd gotten that picture at the auction." She couldn't quite share her true feelings yet.

Ray was a little grateful that she was willing to keep the conversation light. "What attracted you to that piece?" he asked casually.

"That man in the picture was my brother."

"Don't you have any other pictures of him?"

"It's a long story, Armando."

"If you're not too tired, I'd like to hear it." he replied as he picked up another glass of wine.

"We were living in Chicago, in this hell hole of an apartment on the south side. 321 W. Racine. God, I'll probably never forget that address. Christopher had AIDS and we knew he didn't have a lot of time left. I had finished with school and we were planning to move out here. Some people in Chicago had told us that the weather would be better for Christopher, who was prone to pneumonia.

"We'd always had pets growing up in Indiana so when this dog in the neighborhood had puppies and the owners were looking for homes, I got Almak. The lady claimed the sire was a wolf and the dam was purebred Siberian Husky. But that didn't matter. His eyes reminded me of my brother's. He was always Christopher's dog; not mine. To this day he pretty much ignores me unless I've got food in my hands, the ungrateful beast.

"Anyway, a few days before we left, I made arrangements with a student at the Art Institue to have pictures taken of Christopher and Almak. She claimed there had been a problem with her equipment and none of the pictures came out. I was depressed but couldn't do anything about it.

"Shortly after we got settled in out here, Christopher took a turn for the worse and died within a matter of weeks. In that time I'd only managed to take a few snapshots of the two of them together out at the ranch. I'm no photographer so the quality isn't that good. And you could tell Christopher wasn't well.

"Seeing that picture tonight was such a shock. I'd love to know how it made its way here. I'm still not sure just how I feel. I'm angry at that lying bitch who obviously knew what great material she had. Yet, in some way it reminded me of why I'm here and why I volunteer at the center. There are too many people like Christopher who need a little creative distraction in a life that seems filled with pain, illness and drugs..."

There was a long silence. Ray reach over, pulled her close to him and just held her tightly. He couldn't speak. He was too shocked to know he'd been so near to this delightful woman so many times and had never known it. Not that he hung out at Benny's that much. It was such a rotten neighborhood that he preferred to stay away. But she'd been practically under his nose all those years. Why had they met now? What great karmic jester had brought them together here? He made a conscious decision that he would not let this be a one night stand. He knew it was a risk. But it was a risk he was willing to take. He felt confident that he could protect her. He went to sleep vowing he would protect her.

Light pouring into the room made the first impression on Sandra's dawning consciousness. Then wonderful odors followed; breakfast odors. Unfamiliar voices brought her back to full alertness. Her eyes popped open and she realized that she was alone in a strange bed. She was sure it had all been just a beautiful dream. But she couldn't deny the evidence that surrounded her.

"Now what?" she muttered under her breath. A look at the clock told her that it wasn't all that late in the morning; just later than she usually got up. "Okay, think clearly. You're in a strange house with people you don't know and you're naked. First order of business is to get dressed. So where the hell are my clothes?" A cursory look around the bed showed no evidence of any of her garments. But there was a nice silk robe draped over the foot of the bed. That was a good start so she slipped it on. And when she slid her hands into the pockets, she found a pair of slipper socks. "Well, the guy certainly knows good fibers", she commented to herself. She then went in search of a bathroom.

What she found was an enormous area that resembled a private spa. But it provided all the necessities so she didn't care. She looked in the mirror and was surprised to see her face devoid of any make-up smears and looking relatively uncreased. And her hair wasn't flat or a tangled mess either. "Hmm, must be the satin pillowcases," she thought. But she felt obligated to run a washcloth over her face and brush her hair anyway.

The smells of breakfast were overpowering and her stomach rumbled. So she decided to follow her nose. It didn't take long to find their source. They were coming from the other side of the living room. As she walked through it, she still didn't see any evidence of her dress that had been so quickly dropped to the floor in passion. She saw Armando in the doorway to the formal dining room wearing a robe that was virtually identical to her own, only his was longer. He turned completely towards her when he heard her footfalls padding across the hardwood floor.

"Good morning. I thought I might have to bring you breakfast in bed."

She looked pointedly at the robe and then back at him. An unasked question in her eyes.

"Miss Manners says it's polite to have small amenities for your guests." he said somewhat facetiously but broke into a laugh. "Okay, I'm busted. It's actually mine. I liked the fabric so much that I had them made in two lengths. Now come on before breakfast gets cold."

She smiled and walked quickly with him. The breakfast nook was bright with sunlight streaming in the full length windows. There were plants hanging all over; philodendrons, wandering jews, bleeding hearts and spider plants made it look very tropical.

"What would you like to drink? I normally start my day with a glass of buttermilk but for some reason mimosa seems more appropriate today."

"A strong cup of tea would suit me just fine, thanks."

"Then tea you shall have. I wasn't sure what you liked to eat for breakfast so I asked my cook to fix a little of this and a little of that."

"It smells wonderful. But you really didn't have to go to this much trouble."

"It was no trouble. I usually eat a very big breakfast so it was just a matter of adding a little variety."

The butler appeared carrying baskets of muffins, bagels, toast and sweet rolls.

"Nero, Ms. Bartholomew would like a cup of strong tea when you come back."

"Yes, sir." he replied in a neutral voice.

"Armando, you call this 'a little of this and that'? My word, there's so much here."

"Well, then we'd better start and make room for what's yet to come."

They ate in companionable silence for a moment. Nero returned with Sandra's tea, a plate of bacon, a plate of pancakes and a bowl of fruit salad. There was a glass of a thick dark pink drink set in front of her. Nero then left quietly.

"What's this?" she inquired

"It's a fruit smoothie. I hear they're getting very popular in Chicago. That one is a cherry and berry blend."

When she eyed it suspiciously, Armando grabbed it and drank part of it.

"See, it's not poisoned. What's the problem?"

"How did you know I adore a good smoothie? And how did you know what flavors?"

"I had a hunch." he said as he smiled slyly at her. "Now eat, we burned up quite a few calories last night."

She couldn't argue with that statement so she began to consume the wonderful meal.

"You know, Armando I've been thinking that your name just doesn't fit you. It's just so formal. I know, mine seems a little over blown for me too. I think my parents had delusions of grandeur when I was born. But 'Armando' doesn't even lend itself to a nickname. Does everyone call you that?"

"Only the ones who don't call me Mr. Langostini."

"Or Mr. Body", she poked.

"What name do you think fits?"

"Oh something more simple and direct like Bob or Jim or Ray."

"Really?" he inquired exercising extreme self control to keep from reacting to her choice.

"Yeah, but I guess there's no accounting for our parents' taste in names huh? Though it's interesting. My brother always went by Christopher. If you tried to call him Chris, he wouldn't answer."

"You really loved your brother. It's obvious by the way your expression changes when you talk about him. He must have been a very special person."

"He was. He was almost seven when I was born. He always looked out for me. I wish I could have done more for him in return."

"You loved him. That's more than most brothers can say."

"You speak from experience?"

"No, I'm an only child, " he lied. "The last of the Langostini men am I."

The continued to eat until they had nearly cleared the table.

"Yikes, I can't believe I ate all that. I'll be all week working it off. Armando, you're a very bad influence on me."

"Oh, go sheer a couple of sheep and you'll have it worked off in no time."

"It's the wrong season to sheer sheep. But I'll find a way to get rid of it. Even if I have to take Almak on a 10 mile hike everyday for a week." She laughed for a moment but then was serious.

"Look, I've had a really wonderful time but I do need to be getting home. Sunday may be a day of rest for others but not for me. There are animals to be tended and other chores to be done."

"If I could keep you here forever, I would. But I understand. Why don't you go freashen up and I'll get your things together for you? You can use my bathroom. Nero should have put some clean towels out for you by now."

He stood up and held her chair for her, kissing her cheek as she got up. He led her to the bathroom and then walked into his dressing room. It wasn't long before he heard her singing in the shower.

"A chorus
of sparrows
in summer
is how I remember you.

The fire
of maples
in autumn
is how I remember you.

The silence
of snowfall
in winter
is how I remember you."

He smiled as he pulled on a pair of cotton twill trousers and a light sweater. So she liked Michael Franks too. Just another hunch he'd had that paid off. Just as he was pulling his shoes on, the butler knocked on the door.

"Mr. Langostini, you have a phone call."

"Thank you. I'll take it in here."

Sandra had just gotten out of the shower and she heard Armando on the other side of the door talking. She couldn't really understand all the words but his tone was not a happy one. She toweled her hair dry and looked critically in the mirror. She felt naked without any make up but was surprised that she still looked okay. "Enjoy it while it lasts kid," she said to her reflection. Now, what to do with her hair. It didn't appear that Armando owned a hair dryer. But, she reasoned, he probably didn't need one since he kept his own hair so short. She knew she had a head band in her car so she thought she'd just let it finish drying naturally and then deal with it later.

The voices in the next room had stopped for a moment. Then she heard Armando, loud and angry.

"Look, what am I paying you for? I'll tell you what I'm paying you for. I'm paying you so I don't have to interrupt my very pleasant Sunday to go out there and handle a situation that should be easy enough for a third grader, let alone a four hundred dollar per hour lawyer. Do you understand me?

"No, I don't want excuses. I just want the job done.

"Okay, I'll get my driver and meet him at the airport.

"And Tim, you're fired."

She stood in the doorway and watched as Armando slammed the receiver into the cradle.

"Damnit to hell!" he exploded.

She wasn't sure what tack to take so she tried light humor.

"Bad day, dear?"

He spun to face her, clearly unaware that she'd been listening.

"Oh God!" he groaned. "Sandra, I'm so very sorry. I can't believe the timing on this. It stinks. But I've got a very important business deal that is rapidly going in the tank. I've got to get out to the airport immediately and apply some major damage control."

"It's okay Armando, I was getting ready to go home myself, remember."

"Yeah, but I was hoping I'd be able to keep you around long enough for a proper good-bye."

"Proper by Miss Manners' standard?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Not quite. But as it is, I've got to run and I've got to do it now. Look, I really want to see you again. Would you please leave your phone number with Henri? He'll take care of everything you need.

He grabbed her arms and pulled her tightly against him kissing her with sweet speed before rushing off.

She stood dazed for a few minutes when she heard a knock on the door.

"Ms. Bartholomew." It was the butler

Sandra wrapped her towel around her bust a little tighter. Not used to dealing with domestic help, her voice wavered. "Yes, Nero, come in."

He was carrying a garment bag and a shopping bag. He set the shopping bag down for a moment then unzipped the garment bag about half way.

"I took the liberty of gathering your things from last night and putting them all together. Would you like to check them?"

"No, I'm sure everything's fine."

"Very well, then Mr. Langostini had me procure these garments for you to wear home today," he said handing her the shopping bag. "He felt you might be more comfortable in them. I matched them with the size tags in your evening clothes so I believe everything should fit."

She looked in the bag. Jeans, blue chambray shirt, underthings, belt, socks and tennis shoes. She couldn't believe this was happening to her.

"Thank you. I'm sure it will all be fine."

"Would you like me to have the garment bag put in the trunk of your car?"

"Yes, that would be wonderful."

"I'll have it taken care of at once. Mr. Langostini asked that I get your phone number before you leave..."

"Yes, is there a place I could jot it down for him along with a short note thanking him for all his kindness?"

Nero raised an eyebrow. "Yes, there's note paper and pens in the desk in the bedroom."

"Thank you. I'll leave it there for him."

"I'll be in the living room when you're ready to leave."

He walk out and she sighed deeply. Then she dressed quickly, amused and amazed that everything did indeed fit her. She wondered what it would be like to have a staff of professionals to do her bidding. Then she wondered what it would take to be someone who would or could have such a staff. She wasn't sure she cared to know.

She went back into the bedroom and saw the small writing desk. Indeed, there were pens and paper for her to write a proper note. She thought for several minutes about what she wanted to say. A memory of her sixth grade English teacher flashed through her brain admonishing her to use words precisely as well as grammatically. "If only the old bat could see what I'm writing now," she thought.

Once she had the message composed in her head it was easy to write. She folded the paper in half, wrote Armando's name on it and left it propped up on the desk where he could see it then went in search of Henri.

He was in the living room just as he'd said and was holding her black evening bag.. The Mercedes was waiting in the drive by the front door.

"The keys are in the ignition, madam. Michael took the liberty of washing and waxing your car this morning."

"Please extend my thanks to the entire staff. You've all taken such marvelous care of me. I'm very grateful."

"You're welcome," he said handing her the purse and opening the door.

She noticed that Michael had left the top down on her little convertible. Well the weather certainly didn't require any cover. She ran down the walkway and jumped into the car without opening the door. She would have been shocked if she'd turned around right then. Nero was standing in the doorway smiling at her.

She saw a note on her dashboard. Michael had left her directions to get back to the highway. He obviously didn't realize that she knew exactly where she was and he'd given her the most convoluted directions. "Just trying to protect his boss from crazed pick-ups", she thought. "Well, Mike, you've got no reason to worry about me." Then she fired up the engine and took off.

Almak was in his kennel run barking when she pulled in her drive. She opened the gate and let him come out to see her. He sniffed her intently before falling in at her side and walking with her to the barn. They checked on all the animals first. No one seemed the worse off for her morning's absence. She suspected the only reason the dog was being so attentive was that he hadn't had his breakfast. They walked back to the kennel so she could feed all the dogs. Almak went straight to his run knowing her ritual. Her two corgi's were extremely excited to see her.

As she walked back to her car, she thought she should take them out this afternoon and let them work the sheep for a while. She pulled the keys from her pocket, unlocked the trunk lid. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw her brother staring back at her from the photograph. She couldn't believe that Armando had bought this picture for her. He hadn't left her side from the time she realized she'd been outbid to the end of the auction. So he must have been planning on buying it all the time. But why? It certainly wouldn't work anywhere in his home that she'd seen.

She felt something bumping up against her legs. It was Almak. She'd forgotten to close the gate on his kennel run. She put the picture down where he could see it. He sniffed at it once and then barked.

"Yes, boy. That's you and Christopher. Just as I remember him."

As they walked to the house she found herself singing.

"A chorus
Of sparrows
In summer
Is how I remember you..."