“Nervous as a bride.” She fluffed at her hair. “I went into Boston for this getup. Not too fussy, is it?”

The cocktail suit was a pale mint green with a sparkle of beads glittering on the lapels and cuffs.

“It’s gorgeous, and so are you. And there’s nothing for you to be nervous about. All you have to do is enjoy yourself.”

“Are you sure there’s going to be enough cocktail shrimp?”

“I’m sure.”

“I just don’t know what people are going to think of that chicken in peanut sauce.”

“They’ll love it.”

“What about—”

“Gladys, stop haranguing the girl.” Scowling, dragging at the knot of his tie, Carl stepped out. “Let her do her job.”

“Mr. Macey, you make a picture.” Unable to resist, Nell reached over and straightened his tie herself.

“Made me buy a new suit.”

“And you look very handsome in it,” Nell assured him.

“Done nothing but complain about it since he got home from work.”

Well used to their squabbling by now, Nell smiled. “Personally, I like a man who’s not too comfortable in suits and ties. It’s very sexy.”

At Nell’s statement Carl’s face went bright pink. “Don’t know why we couldn’t have had a barbecue and a couple of kegs.”

Before Gladys could snap back at him, Nell lifted a tray of appetizers. “I think you’re going to have a wonderful time, starting right now.”

Manners forced Carl to take one of the fancy salmon bites. The minute it hit his tongue, he pursed his lips. “Got a nice flavor to it,” he admitted. “Guess it’d go down nice with a beer.”

“You step right into the living room and Betsy will fix you up. I think I hear the first guests arriving.”

“Oh, my! Oh, my goodness.” Patting her hair again, Gladys shot quick looks everywhere. “I meant to see if everything was as it should be before—”

“Everything’s exactly as it should be. You greet your guests, leave the rest to me.”

It took less than fifteen minutes for the initial party stiffness to unbend. Music began to pump, conversation began to roll, and as Nell made her circuit with the chicken kabobs, she saw that she’d been right. People loved them.

It was fun to see the familiar island residents in their festive best, knotted into conversational groups or wandering out to the patio. She kept her ears open for comments about the food and the atmosphere, and felt a quick tingle with each positive remark. But best of all was seeing her client glow like a candle.

Within an hour the house was jammed, and she was working at top speed.

“They’re going through these trays like starving hordes,” Peg told her as she scrambled into the kitchen. “You’d think every one of them fasted a week before tonight.”