"Have to run," she announced. "If the sunset's any good at all tonight, I'll be coming home with an offer. When the clients ask to see a house at night, you know you've almost got them. And this is a tough one—it's practically a tear-down, and it's six million." "Go get 'em," Conrad said, squeezing her hand as she passed behind him. She kissed Alison on the forehead. "I might be late." "I'll still be up," Alison sighed. "I've got tons of homework." "Okay. I'll come in to say good-night." As if Risa's departure was a signal, the waiter brought the check for Conrad to sign. "Would you mind if we stopped up at Le Chateau on the way home?" he asked Alison. "I'd like to check on a patient." "Really?" Alison said, eyeing her stepfather uncertainly. Though she'd been to his office in Beverly Hills, she had only heard about the house he kept up in the hills so the wealthiest—or most famous—of his patients could convalesce from their surgery in complete privacy. "I thought nobody but you and the patients got in there." "Me, my family, and the patients," Conrad replied.
