“Claudia, Marcy,” Leanne cried warmly as they entered a large, rustic kitchen that turned out to be the first third of an enormous vaulted living space. Bifold doors were spaced all along one wall and an impressive fireplace was at the far end with lively flames at its heart. “I’m so glad you came. Here, let Abby take your coats and I’ll introduce you to Tom.”

A tall, striking man of around fifty was already coming toward them, holding out a hand to shake first with Marcy, then with Claudia. “You must be Marcy and Claudia. I’m Tom, Leanne’s partner—I’ve heard a lot about you,” he told them. “All good, of course.”

Remembering what she’d heard about him, that he’d once been a spy, Claudia returned the friendliness of his smile as she said, “It’s so kind of you to invite us this evening. We feel very honored to be part of such a special celebration.”

You’re only here because they feel sorry for you. Don’t initiate a conversation unless someone else does. You’re boring, so just listen.

“We’re honored you could make it, especially given how hard I hear Andee is working you at the moment,” Tom commented wryly.

“Sounds like Andee,” a young man in his mid-twenties piped up as he stepped forward to be introduced. “I’m Richie, Tom’s son. Good to meet you both.”

“He’s running the local paper,” Tom informed them, “so if you’re interested in advertising your business, Claudia, I’m sure he’ll give you a good rate.”

“Which I would have offered myself,” Richie stated, casting a meaningful look at his father, “but hey, I’ve spent a lifetime with him stealing my thunder, so why would it be any different now?”

Tom grinned. “Come on,” he said, taking Claudia’s and Marcy’s arms, “let’s introduce you to some more important people.”

“You’ll pay for that,” Richie warned as they walked away.

As they merged into the room full of other guests, an older man with neat silver hair and small glasses came forward to draw Marcy into an affectionate embrace. “You look a treat,” he told her softly, although loud enough for Claudia to hear.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Marcy replied flirtatiously. “Very dapper, in fact.”

Apparently thrilled with the compliment, he turned his merry eyes to Claudia.

“This is my daughter, Claudia,” Marcy came in quickly, “and my granddaughter . . . Jasmine? Where’s Jasmine?” she asked, looking around.

“Gone with Abby to hang the coats,” Claudia informed her as Tom was called back to the kitchen. Her eyes returned to the man who was reaching for one of her hands with both of his.