“Your father’s on his way back to work,” Allison said. “You might be able to reach him on his cell phone.”

“Work? You let him go to work on his birthday?”

“It’s not as if I had a choice, Brianna. It was an emergency.”

There was a long silence on the line. “Well, I’ll try to call his cell,” Brianna said. “But I can’t believe he’s working tonight. Good grief, what are his managers for?”

Allison’s left eyelid had begun to twitch, heralding what was apt to be a murderous headache. “Just in case you can’t get through, is there anything you’d like me to tell him?”

“Just happy birthday. I sent him a present—he should be getting it in the next couple of days. Oh, and I found a car I like. I’ll have the dealer call him tomorrow.” There was a pause. Allison could hear girls’ voices in the background. “All right, I’m coming! Just hang on!” Brianna shouted, muffling the receiver. Then her voice came back. “Gotta go. You will tell him I called, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Allison’s twitch had migrated into her temple and begun to throb. “Take care of yourself, Brianna.”

The only answer was a click. Allison sagged against the wall. From the kitchen, she could hear the caterer and his crew cleaning up the dishes. How much would Anthony’s bill be? A thousand dollars? Two thousand? She’d paid scant attention when she’d ordered the food and service. Until now, a few hundred dollars either way hadn’t mattered.

Limping on her twisted ankle, she made it to the couch and collapsed on the black leather upholstery. Her eyes roamed the splendid great room, from the cathedral ceiling with its hand-hewn beams to the tall flagstone fireplace.

After their wedding, Burke had given her carte blanche to decorate the two-story frame house on Peaceful Lane, with its stunning view of the lake. He had bought the property sixteen years ago and kept it after Kate’s death. When Allison had moved in, the inside was much as her predecessor had left it.

Kate had favored homey florals, ginghams, quilted wall hangings, and framed Thomas Kinkade prints. Allison had replaced the sun-faded curtains and sheers with plantation shutters. The timeworn flowered chintz furniture and baby-blue carpet had been hauled off to Goodwill. Polished hardwood now gleamed on the floors. The black sofa and earth-tone chairs, decorated with bright red and gold cushions, were arranged around a glass coffee table in a conversational group that seemed to drift on the thick, white flokati rug.