“Nervous. Me. I’ve never taken on anything this big. Four plays.” She checked the contents of her briefcase for the third time. “Hauling actors, technicians, assistants, seamstresses to the Mediterranean, dumping them in front of an international audience and claiming that we represent the American theater.” She pulled out a notebook, flipped through it, then stuck it back in her briefcase. “That’s a hell of a boast.”

“Too late for cold feet,” Chris said briskly. She brushed dark feathered bangs back from her forehead. “Besides, the Hamilton Company of Players is an American theater group, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you’ll be performing American plays, right?”

“Right. Still—”

“No stills, no buts.” A trio of rings glinted on Chris’s hand as she waved Eve’s words away. “You are representing American theater. And you’re going to be fantastic.”

“See.” Eve leaned over the suitcase to kiss Chris’s cheek. “That’s why I need you.”

“I’ll do my best to work my schedule so I can be there for the first performance. Even though I know you’ll be too busy to do more than blink at me.”

“I promise to do more than that. Hopefully after the first performance, I’ll settle down.” She folded a pair of slacks by the pleats, then smoothed them carefully into the case. “It’s the preparation and paperwork that has me edgy.”

“You’ve Daddy’s knack for handling details, a fact that constantly amazes me.” Still, Chris had to restrain herself from asking Eve if she had her passport. “I don’t doubt you’re going to pull this thing off without a hitch.”

Had she packed the red suit? Eve started to check one more time, then forced herself to stop. She’d packed it. She’d packed everything. “I wish you were going with me so you could tell me that at regular intervals.”

“The Bissets trust you. This wouldn’t be happening otherwise. I might not be there for the next few weeks, but you’ll have Brie behind you, and Alex and Bennett.”

Eve zipped her case closed in one long move. “I don’t think I like the idea of having Alexander behind me.”

“Still rub you the wrong way?”

“At least. I never get the urge to curtsy and stick out my tongue with Brie or Ben. With him—”

“With him I wouldn’t advise it,” Chris said with a laugh. “He takes his position too seriously. He has to.”

“I suppose.”