“Sorry, I had to make sure everyone was decent. Viv’s in here.” I stepped back, opening the door wide.

Dooney sauntered into the room and I turned to follow him, leaving the door open. I don’t know why, maybe it was being in a castle, but it felt very wrong to be entertaining a strange gentleman in our suite. Then again, it could be the bad vibe I was getting off him.

“Hello, Vivian,” he said. He crossed the room to where she sat. I noticed Viv didn’t get up to greet him. There was no smile on her face or friendly, exuberant hug—just her cool, assessing stare.

“Dooney.” She propped her chin in her hand, looking bored. “How are you?”

“Never better,” he said. “I’m finally living my best life. At long last, I’m going to have more money than I know what to do with.”

“Good for you,” Viv said. There was a tiny edge of disdain to her voice but he didn’t appear to hear it.

“I was surprised you agreed to design the hats for Piper’s bridesmaids,” he said. “Generous of you, given the circumstances.”

“Circumstances?” Viv repeated. Her eyebrows lowered in an expression of confusion.

“Why, yes,” he said. He gestured between them. “I know you had a terrible time getting over me.”

Viv’s mouth dropped open. She blinked twice. “Getting over you?”

“Oh, come on, Viv,” he cajoled. “Everyone knows you fancied me back in the day.”

“Fancied you?” She kept repeating him as if she couldn’t believe the ridiculous things he was saying. Her expression was one of amazement. If Dooney had declared himself king of England, Viv couldn’t have looked more stunned.

“Yes, of course,” he said. “That’s why you always got that look on your face whenever I was around.”

“This look?” Viv asked. Then she made an expression that if you knew her, you would know was one of utmost contempt. Her nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed, and her lip curled just the tiniest bit. It wasn’t a full sneer, but the intent was there.

“Yes, exactly.” Dooney clapped his hands. “I noticed that you only ever looked at me that way. Quite endearing, really.”

“There’s only one part of that sentence that you got right,” Viv said. “That’s your look all right, but it doesn’t mean I fancy you. Rather it indicates—”

“She admires your aesthetic,” I said.

They both turned to look at me with identical expressions of incredulity.

“His aesthetic?” Viv asked. Her nose crinkle deepened.

“What does that even mean?” Dooney asked.

“Your sense of style,” I said. Viv rolled her eyes. I took Dooney’s preening expression as confirmation that I’d played the right card.

“Is that so, Viv?” he asked.