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private practice you always talk about?"
    "One of these days. You’ll be my inspiration."
    "You know what they’re saying? They’re calling me the overnight sensation. Can you believe it? Here I’ve been singing my little heart out for the past eight years with hardly anyone noticing, and suddenly they’re talking about the new kid on the block getting the big break, like I haven’t paid my dues."
    "I seriously doubt that you’ve ever sung with no one noticing. And keep in mind, dear sister, that some people struggle their entire lives for that big break, and it never happens. So be gracious in victory," she admonished gently.
    "Oh, I am, Sis, believe me, I’m not complaining. Well, I suppose in a way I am, but... oh, you know. God, it was such a good night at the club tonight. The audience was so great. This sweet little woman actually danced her partner right up to the stage so she could give me the ‘thumbs up’ sign. People have been terrific. I can’t describe to you the feeling I get when everything is right on—the waves of love that go back and forth—it’s kind of like flying, you know?" Gail chattered on in that breathless, excited way she had even as a kid, sometimes requiring no answer at all. Ellen was smiling into the phone, enjoying Gail’s own enjoyment of her success, caught off guard when Gail asked suddenly, "So how’s it going with you and Paul?"
    "I’m not sure. He’s gone off to Eastport to visit his parents for the holidays." She felt a pang of guilt. He’d been gone four days now, and she’d hardly given him a thought. Maybe because she just needed a little breathing room.
    "What do you mean, you’re not sure?"
    "He’s pressing for a deeper commitment. He says my problem is I’m comparing all men to Ed. When I stop doing that I’ll realize we belong together."
    "Is he right?"
    "I don’t know. Maybe. I’m just not sure I want to get seriously involved with anyone right now. I’m not even sure I can."
    "So tell him that."
    "I did. He’s not listening. Hey, let’s not talk about Paul, anymore, okay? I want to hear more about you."
    "Never mind changing the subject. Listen, maybe you’re not giving the guy a fair chance. Why don’t you just flow with it, see where it goes?"
    "I’ll think about it."
    Not that Paul was unattractive, quite the contrary. Tall and handsome with a neatly trimmed beard that lent him an air of distinguished authority, women were drawn to him. Ellen had not been an exception.
    Paul Henderson was one of four psychologists, including Ellen, who worked at the clinic. A colleague. She wasn’t sure it was a good idea to be going out with someone she worked with. It had started out as an innocent lunch. He’d said he wanted to discuss one of his cases with her, get her opinion. And then he’d bought those tickets to see Les Miserables , and after he’d spent so much money, how could she possibly refuse. Not that she’d really wanted to.
    Paul had a way of looking at you that made you feel you were the most important person in the world, which, of course, was partly what made him so good at his job. Yet Ellen couldn’t help wondering, and not for the first time, if maybe Paul didn’t encourage a little hero-worshipping in his female clients. More than once, she’d glimpsed a pretty big ego behind those intelligent eyes.
    Thoughts of Paul faded as she listened to Gail telling her that her roommate, Sandi, a willowy, incredibly beautiful girl whom Ellen had met once and liked immediately, was also off visiting her parents for the holidays. Sandi was a model.   "You know," Gail was saying, "It’s been kind of nice having the place all to myself . I can walk around in the buff if I like. I don’t have to worry about—" She broke off in mid-sentence. "Hello! Is someone there? Hold on a second, Ellen."
    The line went silent and alarm raced along Ellen’s nerve endings. It seemed forever until Gail was back on the line, saying fondly, "It was just