I had mere seconds to get out of the bedroom.  There was no bolt for the door and no escape back the way I’d entered.  I stood frozen, my hands useless appendages in front of me, my frantic heartbeats a roaring surf in my ears.

Three strong strides and I was at the sliding glass door that led to the bedroom balcony.  The door opened soundlessly to an itsy-bitsy, terra-cotta tiled area wrapped by a wrought-iron rail.  I looked down two floors.  For a dizzying moment I considered jumping but the patio below was cold, unforgiving stone.

I whirled back to stare across the room.  Twelve feet of carpet led toward the bedroom door, the only other exit.  My pursuer was not far behind.  From my peripheral vision I caught sight of the maple tree.  I glanced over.  Too far from the balcony, but just outside the bathroom window.

I could hear his approaching footsteps from the exterior hall.  Quickly, I scurried into the bathroom and threw open the window.  One branch was close enough to reach.  For an instant I considered climbing down as I was: gowned, bejeweled, wearing the most expensive shoes I ever planned to purchase.

Kicking off the shoes I threw them out the window.  I ripped the zipper of the dress downward, yanked the slinky lavender silk dress over my head, sent it flying after the shoes.  As I pulled myself through the window, cursing the space which was scarcely large enough for me to wriggle my shoulders through, I heard the door open.  A mewling sound entered my throat but I held it back.  I reached for the branch, missed, reached again, arms shaking, fingers splayed.

I heard his breathing.

My fingers connected and I hauled myself out with adrenalin-laced strength.  I swung my legs upward to catch the limb with my ankles and hung like a lemur.  Then I shimmied toward the tree trunk and carefully eased myself down the bole.  I lost swatches of skin.  My pulse hammered in my ears.  My face was wet with tears.

When my toe hit the ground I drew a breath and silently thanked my lucky stars.  I glanced upward.  He was on the balcony looking down at me.  In that strange, heightened moment between quarry and prey, I was very, very glad I stood where I was.

"Ms. Kellogg?"

The voice came from somewhere to my right, near the front of the house, as I  stooped to pick up the gown Violet Purcell had given me.  I shivered, glad Violet had talked me into the padded, lacy bra, equally glad I’d held out for bikini underwear rather than a thong.

The newcomer was my other admirer, Martin.

I smiled at him as he approached, hoping my lips didn’t quiver.  I could feel the gaze from the man on the balcony boring into the back of my head.  I shook out the gown.  Stepping into it, I said with forced nonchalance, AWould you mind helping me zip up?"

I thanked the fates Martin liked me enough to obey without question.