“Then it sounds as though you’ve been doing a good job following my rule.”

Claire reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I know a few other things I’m good at doing.”

He threaded his fingers through hers. “I think I may have an idea, but we’d better get upstairs and check out each one.”

“Oh, we will. There’s no stopping mid-list. That’s my new rule,” Claire added with a grin.

Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing, and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weakness.

—Ann Landers

IN MANY WAYS the Rawlings estate was like a small town: the people were close and not much went unnoticed. Though none of the staff except Shannon was required to live on the grounds, Phil had no desire to live anywhere else. His sentiments were shared by most of the other employees. At the old estate, each person had housing in the main house, now each person had his or her own apartment and all of the apartments were located in the same building. Needless to say, with the closeness of their working and living, private lives weren’t very private.

The clock read after eleven when Phil heard the knock on his apartment door. With a grin, he threw on a pair of sweat pants and went to answer it. As he reached for the handle, he fully expected to find Taylor on the other side. Though they didn’t always spend the night at each other’s place, it did happen. In a modest attempt to keep their relationship under the radar, they would often wait until later at night to visit one another.

Phil and Taylor’s relationship had been building since she first started working for the Rawlings family. At first Phil wondered if he was the only one who had feelings beyond that of security professional and coworker. He fought those thoughts as long as he could. Then as time passed, things became more personal. The first sign wasn’t truly sexual: it was a kinship. Phil could talk to Taylor, really talk about things that he’d never uttered to anyone else. It started the day he told her about his family and continued to grow. The night he confessed his failure to protect Claire from Patrick Chester was the night he knew that Taylor was more than a friend.

Their conversations weren’t one-sided. Although he thought he’d learned all there was to know about Taylor Walters before he authorized her hiring, he hadn’t. Her backstory was as messed up as his. Getting shot was a pivotal point in her life. The rehab was hell and she hated working behind the scenes. Neither one of them had been married or even in a relationship in recent history. Neither one believed another person could be trusted enough to be let in, especially let in on secrets. In some way, it was when Phil realized that he fully accepted and trusted Taylor to protect the Rawlingses that he could also trust her with his own story.

Perhaps that’s how it was meant to be, just like the saying goes: birds of a feather.

Romantically, Taylor had been the first one to make a move. Truthfully, if it had been left up to Phil, they’d probably never have made it out of the friend/coworker stage. Thinking about last night, the blood returned to his cheeks and a smile floated across his lips. They’d definitely moved beyond.

Reaching for the handle, Phil opened the door. His smile quickly disappeared at the sight of Eric. His friend’s somber expression spoke volumes of unuttered concerns. Finally Phil broke the silence. “Hey man, what’s happening?”

Eric’s worried eyes met Phil’s. “Can I come in?” He paused. “I mean, you’re alone, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Phil said, stepping backward, and opening the door farther. “Come in. What’s happening? You look like someone just killed your dog, and I know for a fact you don’t have one.”

Eric closed the door behind him. “I just pulled up your surveillance on Patricia.”

Phil had a program that continually monitored her virtual presence in her new identity. From her work presence, to her personal interaction, any time Patricia Miles logged into the world of cyberspace, it was duly recorded and catalogued. Though the program ran continually, Phil didn’t check it every day. He’d had his eyes on it more frequently at first, but lately it had been about once a week.

“You did. Why?”

Eric shrugged. “I know you check it regularly. I guess, with Nichol’s birthday and the anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Rawlings’ first marriage all coming up, I had a feeling.”

“A feeling?” Phil didn’t like the vibe he was sensing. “What did you find?”

“Nothing.”

Phil waited for more as he contemplated Eric’s answer. Finally, reaching for his tablet, he said, “Fuck. What do you mean nothing?”

“I mean nothing. There’s no record of her doing anything for the last four days.”

Since Phil’s last check had been less than a week ago, four days would make sense. Bringing the program to life, Phil asked, “Have you mentioned this to anyone else?”

“No. I found it earlier today. I ran some tests to see if maybe it was the program. When I couldn’t get anything definitive, I waited until you were alone to see if you could learn more. I’m hoping it’s some kind of glitch or malfunction with the surveillance.”

“Have you mentioned anything about Patricia—at all—to Rawlings?”

“No. With the new baby coming, he’d lose it. And I sure as hell wouldn’t say something to Mrs. Rawlings without telling him first. It’s just us. I wanted to run this by you. I wasn’t even sure how you felt about Taylor knowing.”