"Want some?"
"I'm not sure what goes with eggs at this time of night. Probably tequila."
"Good luck. You know where to find it. There're some limes in the fridge. Right now I'm going to fire up the Dell and do a little search."
"Now? " His face dropped. "How about a little romantic . . . whatever?"
"Come and join me. Bring your plate. We'll go exploring in cyberspace. It'll be a romantic voyage. I've got a hunch about something."
She walked back into the bedroom and clicked on the computer. She sipped at her wine, deep but still fruity and delicious, as it booted up.
"What's going on?" he asked as he wandered in. He was carrying a shot glass of tequila and a white plate with the cheese omelette. The aroma was seductive.
"I want to check out something. I have to be honest and confess I've been holding out on you a little. When I saw Winston Bartlett that night on the pier, something he said—"
"Ally, I need to do some confessing too. The time never seemed quite right. I need to tell you something about him."
"Well, don't tell me now. I don't think I can handle anything else to worry about tonight. Please save it."