When Kate woke up the next morning, she couldn’t remember where she was. Then it came back to her in bits: the U-Haul, the Batman building, the carved “Matthews” sign, and the larger-than-expected guesthouse. She was finally in Nashville, or, well, twenty miles south of the city. With a big yawn, she looked over at the bedside clock. Ten fifteen. The room was awash with sunlight. Like the living room downstairs, the cozy bedroom was decorated with country touches. Dark wood antique furniture, walls adorned in rose-colored silk, and lace curtains on the windows that complemented the high four-poster bed with the white eyelet duvet.

Kate was stretching out the kinks when her dad knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she called.

“Morning,” he said. He looked like he, too, had just gotten up.

“Morning. Did you sleep?”

“Oh yeah,” Jack said with a big smile. “Eight, beautiful, uninterrupted hours.”

Kate chuckled. “I’m starving.”

“Well, let’s shower and get dressed so we can go find Reid. I don’t know about you, but I want to see what the main house is like if this counts as the guesthouse.”

“I hear ya. Give me thirty minutes.”

Jack had unhooked Kate’s car from the U-Haul by the time she joined him downstairs. Kate was surprised to find that it was almost as cold outside as it had been at home.

He tossed the keys to her so she could drive them up the hill. They were able now to see the rolling green hills that made up Reid’s property and the white split rail fence extending as far as she could see.

“Holy shit,” she muttered when she caught her first glimpse of the massive Tudor-style home at the top of the hill.

“I’m supposed to tell you not to swear, but holy shit is right.”

“It makes Grandma and Grandpa’s house in Greenwich look like a shack.” Kate parked in the large driveway next to a black Mercedes SUV and a silver Saab.

Before they could ring the bell, the door opened and a uniformed maid greeted them. “Hello, Mr. Harrington, Miss Harrington, I’m Martha. Do come in,” she said in a lilting Southern drawl as she waved them into the foyer. “Both Mr. Matthews are here.”

As Martha led them into what she called the drawing room, Kate noticed the house screamed of the kind of old money she’d experienced in her grandparents’ home. But this house was even more spectacular: antiques, paintings framed in gilded gold, huge mirrors, chandeliers, and rich velvet draperies.