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Footsteps slowing, Mark climbed on. He reached the fourth floor, unlocked the door, and walked into a large apartment bathed in the late afternoon sun. He stashed his briefcase on the side table in the hall and pulled off the tie that felt like a choke chain better used in dog obedience classes.

Suddenly, something appeared strangely wrong. Things were in place all right the expensive oil paintings in their silver-bracketed frames in the hall, and the living room billowing out at the far end with its soft chamois leather upholstery furniture.  The vases were filled with flowers, Mark's standing request to the cleaning temp.

Then why did he feel like the three bears walking in on Goldilocks? At the end of the hall, he spied two suitcases partly hidden by the wall and a sneaker tumbled against it nearby. Alert to the last nerve, he followed the signs as a nature lover might follow markings in the woods.

On the sprawling living room sofa, a small, blonde, tousle-haired waif lay curled with an arm resting on a rounded cheek, her sneaker-clad foot dangling over the
edge of the sofa. Her blue jeans were molded over eye-catching curves as she lay fast asleep, breathing evenly.

Mark stood there, his tie draped around his neck, a hand on one hip, and watched her for a few moments. A frown formed on his forehead and then slowly disappeared. Curled on the sofa in that childlike way, she looked pretty. Thick sooty lashes lay like veils over her eyes, and the white long-sleeved shirt
with its sleeves rolled up gave her a tomboyish air that was curiously attractive.

Mark pulled himself together. He had no business standing here getting an eyeful of Sleeping Beauty. But who was she and how did she get in?

The girl stirred and opened her eyes. Green, he noticed, sea green. Mark cleared his throat. "Miss, I think you're in the wrong place."

"What? Oh . . . I . . . " She sat up, her hand going to her head. "Ouch! This is Tivoli Terrace Apartments, isn't it? Ellen Carstens sent me. I'm Nikki Slater, the new housekeeper."

Mark slowly pulled the dangling tie off his neck and crumpled it in his hand. Had Gran lost her mind? Was this another one of the charity cases she forever
championed? Did she really think this elf-like girl could handle the work of Mrs. Babbitt? Mrs. Babbitt even scared dust away, and when she left, she had
brought in a temp just like herself--frontline combat material, the original drill sergeant. He unbuttoned his collar. "How did you get in?" This ought to be
good, he thought.

"The super let me in. I have a note from Ellen."   She fumbled in her jeans pocket for awhile, wriggling every which way.

Mark looked away, very conscious of the girl's allure, the hair around her face in curly wisps, the perfect mouth.

"Here it is," she said finally, fishing out a crumpled piece of paper. "It's addressed to you, so the super agreed to let me in."

Mark took the note from her. "Dear Mark," it said. "I'm sending Nikki as promised. She's a good worker and will be a help to you. She needs a place to stay. Perhaps she could use the spare apartment adjoining yours? Take care of yourself and try not to work too hard. Love, Gran."

Mark allowed himself a half-chuckle, recognizing his grandmother's concern for him. But how like her to spring a surprise like this on him! The girl looked
as if she had packed her life's belongings into two suitcases. She probably needed the money badly and Ellen stepped in to help. Fine with him, he could go
along with a gag to humor his grandmother.

The extent of the situation dawned on Mark like a neon light gaining power by the second. The girl sat groggily on the sofa and pushed the hair away from her
eyes. It suddenly hit him that she was to stay in his spare apartment. Mark swallowed hard on that one. Too bad she couldn't leave at the end of the day as Mrs. Babbitt had done. Someone like her was too much to handle when the new construction project was just getting underway. He didn't want a distracting female hovering next door.

Mark raked his fingers through his hair. "If you can cook and keep the apartment clean, it's fine with me.  The apartment you will use has a separate entrance.  In fact," he said, going to a narrow closet and pulling out a key that hung on the inside of the door, "I'll show you around." He glanced at her suitcases.  "You might want to bring those."

Nikki got up. Small built, she barely reached his shoulder. What was Gran thinking when she sent this puny little urchin his way? He hoped like heck she
could do some work, though he doubted if she was much good. Mild irritation assaulted him as he led the way to the other apartment. He opened the door and stood aside to let her enter. "This door is left unlocked," he said.

They stood in the foyer flooded with the light of the setting sun. Mark watched with amusement as Nikki walked over to the window and stared at the scenery outside. He had to admit it looked nice this time of year when leaves were starting to come in the trees.

"It's beautiful," she said, coming away from the window. Her gaze fell on a glass and steel abstract structure on the black marble-topped table in the foyer.

"Like it?" he asked.

Nikki nodded. "But what is it?"

"It's a miniature skyscraper. It's in there somewhere, if you look hard enough." Mark laughed. "What's the matter?"

The dimpled smile that had looked promising turned into a puzzled expression. "What do you do?" Her eyes opened wide and a sharpness laced her tone.

"Construct buildings."

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