I tried to rest. I needed it, I could tell by the way I could barely lift my head off my pillow, but it wouldn't come. My stomach was threatening to try to spill, but I knew there was nothing left. I would only be retching dryly, with no end in sight.

The soft knock came moments after I'd locked my door and laid down. Lily, pleading with me to let her in. Begging for me to understand. Wanting to know she wasn't alone with my father in the house, bodily or spiritually, but I'd had enough. All the shopping and bonding in the world couldn't undo the duplicity of her actions. I was tired of the backbiting. Of the need for comrades in arms, only to find that the comrade was a double agent.

I didn't answer. She finally gave up and I turned on my side to study the clutch of roses Ike had sent. He might be finished pretending, but I felt like I'd only just begun.

The next morning dawned hot and bright, and the light only added to my pain. As soon as I sat up, the urge to vomit struck hard and fast, and I barely made it to the bathroom before I realized that even water wasn't safe inside me. I couldn't understand how it felt like it went on for days, since I'd only had a glass of tepid water before bed, but it did. It felt like the lining of my stomach wanted to make an appearance, but it finally ended and I weakly stood up to get rid of the sight and brush my teeth.

The face staring back at me was almost unrecognizable. I was beyond pale. Dark circles and puffy eyes stared back. Even my lips lacked color. I leaned against the sink and wondered what kind of bug I'd caught. And I hoped that it would pass, because I needed to go to the one place I kept hoping I could avoid.

Breakfast wasn't tempting enough to make me go downstairs, so I chose to try to tame my face into a more normal pallor. It wasn't flawless, but the covering of my lack of color and hiding the color I didn't want did the job. I brushed my hair, and pulled it back in a knot. Then I chose a pant set, grabbed my handbag and went downstairs. I left without telling anyone. If my father was having me followed, then let them earn their money.

I walked slowly to the hotel, taking the time for once to study the building from my approach. It looked like it curved from the angle I was viewing it from. Glass and balconies, the covered entry, the feeling of glamour harsh in the bright sun. I kept moving, feeling like I was arriving for the first time, and smiled as the door was held open for me. A scent I'd never paid attention to seemed to touch me as I broached the entrance, and I smiled, the ocean. Light, not overpowering, but reminding the guest that they were in paradise.

My eyes drank in the decor as though I'd never been inside, smooth lines, rich without the ostentation that screamed 'overboard'. I was so inside my own head that I bumped into someone. Tall, with light hair, and striking eyes the young man began to apologize but I wouldn't hear of it.

"Entirely my fault," I admitted, offering my own pardon. "That's what happens when I let myself get caught inside my own head."

He smiled and I wondered why he felt so familiar. And then Ike was there, and I knew. "Liz, I see you've finally met Danny." Ike's smile was blinding and I realized I was staring at him. Seeing him in an entirely new light, just like the hotel.

"Oh, this is your younger son?" I turned back to him and smiled. "I keep managing to meet the Evans family in extremely awkward ways, it would seem. It's nice to meet you, Danny." I offered my hand and he took it.

A glance at his father and I saw recognition dawn on his face, which made me wonder what Ike had told him about me. "Miss Diamond, I've heard a lot about you." He said it without a hint of innuendo. Just the basics shared then. "I hate to run, but-"

"Go," Ike said, shaking his head as his son dashed away. "That boy-" His eyes met mine again. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too," I wished I could take his hand, but that wasn't smart, or allowable. "Could we go somewhere to talk?"

He nodded and started walking toward his office, but I stopped him. "Somewhere private?" It was early morning, his staff would be there, and I didn't want them to titter about the drapes shutting out the view of the fishbowl he worked from. Changing course, he led me to the empty Atlantis.

"Will this work?" I glanced around the emptiness and nodded. Instead of the bar, he led me to one of the booths. In the corner, deep in the shadows, so we wouldn't be seen. I'd asked for privacy, and that's what he gave me.

"Thank you for the flowers." He took my hand and I felt calmer than I'd felt in the past twenty four hours. "Ike, I have to tell you-"

"Did you read the card?" No, it was read to me, but close enough. I nodded. "I mean it, Liz, I can't keep-" He took a deep breath. "I can't keep saying goodnight to her, wishing she was you." I looked down at the table. He had to know. All of it.

"I want that too, Ike, I do, but," he looked concerned and I was glad of it. "There are some things you need to know."

I sat in the booth and told him my father's game. What I knew of it, anyway. I told him that he'd brought me back to play matchmaker. That he wanted the scandal of us, that he swore he knew the man across from me so well that he could anticipate Ike's behavior. I told him that he'd admitted to wanting us to wind up married, that he wanted to toy with Ike, to play with him and to then destroy him completely. I felt my eyes burn when he pulled his hand from mine, but kept talking. I told him how he'd given a subtle threat on my life. And how it was him, not me, that read the card that came with the flowers.

"He thinks he's won, Ike." And I hoped he hadn't, even if it would rend me in two. "He thinks you've played right into his hands."

"When did you find out?" I swallowed hard. "When, Liz?"

"After my stay here." I knew that I was cementing the end of something I felt like I'd die without, but I had to save him from my father. "He told me part of it when I returned to his house. Lily helped fill in the rest."

"You knew all this time?" He looked betrayed and I understood. Hell, I even wanted him to, but it hurt to see him look at me that way. I nodded. "Is this all a game to you?"

"No," I felt my breath catch, the roiling of my stomach beginning again. "It isn't a game to me, Ike. I do love you, but-"

I couldn't finish and he didn't speak. My eyes were on my hands fidgeting on the tabletop. The silence became oppressive. I felt the now familiar urge to throw up, and before I could say a word to Ike I was running from the booth to the nearest ladies' room. I didn't latch the door, I didn't have time. I was on my knees, face over the bowl, and retching when I felt someone behind me. I'd been dry heaving so loudly that I hadn't heard him dismiss the attendant, or him checking to see if we were alone. By the time I finished, we were alone and he had the main entrance locked.

"Are you OK?" His concern wasn't faked, he looked scared at how sick I seemed. I couldn't get off the tiles, I was so weak. "Liz, sweetheart, answer me?"

Swallowing and feeling the burning in my throat, I nodded, my head feeling as though it weighed a ton. I automatically reached up to flush, without realizing that the bowl was empty of anything from my gagging. Ike's hand took mine when I finished, and he knelt down and wrapped his arm around my waist to help me to my feet.

"Let's get you to a room so you can lie down," he whispered in my ear. Another weak nod, since I didn't have the strength to argue. I must have nodded off as he half drug me, half carried me to a small room. Helping me lie down, he removed my shoes and curled up next to me. "You know," I listened, my eyes closed from exhaustion. "When Molly was pregnant with Danny, she had morning sickness all day long. She told me it wasn't named right, that it should be called day sickness and that she never wanted to eat or drink anything ever again, because she knew what everything tasted like when it came back up." I didn't understand the point of his story, but his voice was soothing. "She couldn't sleep, not until she was exhausted from tossing her cookies, and-" His hands were touching me gently, my face, down the curve of my side, and I wanted to hear his voice again. "Liz, are you pregnant?"