A taxi stopped a few feet ahead and a petite forty-something stepped out, sunglasses sliding low as if to avoid detection. The sun reflected off a high-rise window like an arrow onto her copper bob.

“Nora?” My step slowed. She didn’t hear me.

Nora Visser, Amberley’s board chair. Family friend since before forever. My godmother. Not a musical genius—she just had this weird gift for living. She could trip over a curb and make it look like the happiest thing that had ever happened. And here she was, stumbling onto the same stretch of concrete as me while the taxi she was in sped away with someone else still sitting in the back.

I felt like a sailor spotting land. “Nora!”

She turned—and the look on her face made me wish she hadn’t. Her first reaction was close to horror, such an alien expression that I thought for a second I’d confused her for someone else. But I stepped back, and there she was again, the real Nora, tickled to confetti bits to see me.

“Ruby!” Nora extended her arms like a net and I walked in, noticing as I did how flushed her cheeks were. “You have just made my day, I can’t even tell you!”

“What are you doing here?” By here, I really meant the taxi. Nora never took cabs.

“Oh, lord . . .” She shook her cell phone like she was trying to strangle it. “One appointment to the next. You know how I am, I overbook. I just can’t seem to say no! How are you, sweetheart?”

She adjusted a frizz of my hair, and something about the small touch made my eyes go tingly.

I smiled to cover. “Good. Great! What’s next, then?”

“Oh!” She slumped daintily. “A reception for the Central Park Conservancy. A tea . . . sort of . . . thing?”

“Tea sounds nice,” I said, mostly to unfrazzle her.

“Would you like to come?” The instant she said it, I knew that it was a formality, the done thing, but—

“I’d love to!” My skin went from hot to scalding. Taking someone up on an empty invitation was the opposite of the done thing. Even so, I wanted it. Tea. Park. Distraction. “Would you mind?”

“Oh my goodness, please do!” Nora squeezed both my hands and bounced on her low heels. “You would be saving me.”

I laughed. “From what?”

“Boredom!” Her eyes flitted to my all-black outfit, smile unwavering.

“Oh. When does it start? Do I have time to—?”

“Absolutely!” She swiveled toward my block. “We’re close, and it’s a pop-in kind of thing . . .”

We linked arms and hurried to the crosswalk.

“Don’t you dare spruce too much. A light dress is fine, especially in this heat. How is it July already? You don’t even need any makeup. You’re just”—Nora framed my face with her hands, eyes proud, like she’d painted me—“charmed!”