Abigail was mesmerized, both by the fact that she was right about Alexa being dipped in olive oil and by her use of the word “luscious” in conversation. Had Abigail ever experienced anything luscious in her entire life? Did the Yankee pot roast at the Sturbridge Inn count as luscious? Snapping back to awareness, she made a mental note to find a signature Fair Harbor product to give to Alexa the next time they met. There must be Fair Harbor salt or mustard or cranberry sauce. Abigail nearly laughed out loud thinking of Alexa rubbing the cranberry sauce all over her skin. She had to get ahold of herself. “How thoughtful of you. I’m looking forward to trying both.”

George cut in. “Well, don’t slather yourself with honey. You may stick to the couch.” There were polite laughs all around, except from his wife, who had the sudden urge to smother him in honey.

Alexa turned to her companion with a broad smile. “May I introduce my dear friend and Penelope’s godfather, Simon Fox.”

When the handsome man in the sharp blue suit stepped forward with an outstretched hand toward Abigail, to her horror, she almost started to curtsy. George, in an astonishing moment of awareness, grabbed her elbow and pulled her upright.

He had met these British types before on the bridge circuit, the type who charmed you out of your mind at the beginning of the match so that you made careless mistakes before you realized that the British Empire hadn’t colonized the globe because they were gentlemen. He wasn’t going to let this Brit get in his head. Or undermine his damn drinks party. There would be no class system here.

George believed deeply in the concept that all men were created equal, even though he personally had benefited greatly from the reality that some men were more equal than others. “Great to meet you, Simon. Come in! Let me get you a drink and then we can take a stroll around the neighborhood. Your people burnt down quite a few houses in this town a few hundred years ago. You should see what we’ve done with the place since then,” George boomed.

“Well, I’m sorry to report that I’m not in a position to make reparations, but I do come in friendship,” Simon shot back in return, nodding knowingly to Abigail as he followed George to the bar that had been set up on the patio.

The rest of the New York Contingent followed Sarah into the house. Abigail eyed the beautifully wrapped gift in Penny’s hands, assuming it was for her. But then she heard Penny say, “Sarah, can I speak with you for a moment? I have something I’d like to ask.” And then squeals of delight.