“Yes. We moved to Chicago, and she built up an impressive reputation while I went to college, took care of the books, and pitched in whenever I could manage it around classes. When I was twenty-one, I started working with her full-time. We expanded and developed an elite list of clients. That’s how I met Evan, at a party in Chicago we were catering. A very important party for very important people. I was twenty-four. He was ten years older, and everything I wasn’t. Sophisticated, brilliant, cultured.”

Mia held up a finger. “Why do you say that? You’re a traveled, educated woman with an enviable skill.”

“I didn’t feel like any of those things when I was with him.” Nell sighed. “In any case, I didn’t move in the same circles. I cooked for the rich, the high-powered, the glamorous. I didn’t share the table with them. He made me feel . . . grateful that he would pay attention to me. As if it were some fabulous compliment. I just realized that.” She shook her head.

“He flirted with me, and it was exciting. He sent me two dozen roses the next day. It was always red roses. He asked me out, and took me to the theater, to parties, to fabulous restaurants. He stayed in Chicago for two weeks, made it clear he was staying, reorganizing his schedule, putting off his clients, his work, his life, for me. I was meant for him,” Nell whispered, rubbing arms that were suddenly chilled.

“We were meant for each other. Then, when he told me that, it was thrilling. Later, not so very much later, it was terrifying. He said things to me that seemed romantic then. We’d always be together. We’d never be apart. He would never let me go. He dazzled me, and when he asked me to marry him, I didn’t think twice. My mother had reservations, asked me to give it some time, but I wouldn’t listen. We eloped, and I went back to California with him. The press called it the romance of the decade.”

“Ah. Yes.” Mia nodded as Nell turned back. “It clicks. You looked different then. More like a pampered kitten.”