Chapter 7
"GOOD MORNING, Mister Turko," Josie beamed. "Breakfast is on the terrace."
"Thanks," Steve curtly replied, avoiding the knowing gleam on the maid's face. Breakfast at noon, he thought, his body aching as he moved across the foyer.
"I pressed your suit the best I could," the maid said. "It sho' was a crumpled mess!"
"Thanks," Steve repeated, somewhat awed by all the service.
"Thataway," Josie informed him, waving her hand across the living room to a glass-paneled door slightly ajar. "They're waiting for you."
Steve started across the room, his leg muscles straining. Something clicked in his brain and he stopped short, swiveled his head back to Josie. "They?" he questioned.
"Miss Adele," Josie replied, absently flicking a duster about the room. "And Mister Moore."
Steve ten
