“Yes,” she said, suddenly seeing a way out. “Helen must have been mistaken. It’s for you.”

Although she heard a murmur of protest coming from Patrick’s end of the phone, she held the handset out until Ford took it. Patrick would just have to come up with a believable lie—or, failing that, pretend he dialed the wrong number. That would teach him to call her during working hours.

She smiled blandly at Helen, hoping that would end the intrigue, but she’d underestimated the amount of romanticism in the other woman’s soul. As Ford took the phone, Helen bumped Lila with her hip, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

“One of these days, you’re going to have to tell me the real story of how you two met.”

“I already did,” Lila protested.

She might as well have not spoken for all the attention Helen paid her. “I warn you—I’m awfully persistent when I like someone. I won’t rest until you’re sitting in my kitchen with a glass of rosé in hand. I’ll kidnap you if I have to. Don’t think I won’t.”

Lila looked inadvertently to Ford. She was sure he’d share her amusement at Helen’s willingness to hold people hostage in the name of friendliness, but he was holding the phone to his ear with a strange look on his face. She had no idea what Patrick was telling him, but it couldn’t be good. That look was strangely bleak, in no way suited for the handsome, laughing man he was most of the time.

“Oh God.” Lila’s mind went directly to all the potentially devastating news a child’s otolaryngologist might be forced to impart over the phone. She waited only until Ford hung up before pouncing. “What did he say? Not anything bad? Not…Emily?”

Ford shook his head, still somewhat dazed, though the smile had returned to his expression. It was his usual grin, equal parts charming and disarming, but for the first time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Those orbs still held their usual blue brilliance, but they were distant. One might almost say cold.

But that wasn’t right. Lila was the cold one. Ford was everything attractive and happy and warm.

“Emily’s okay,” he said. “Emily’s fine.”

“Then…?” It wasn’t Lila’s business, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself. What on earth had Patrick been telling this man to bring such a shadow to his face?

“He was just checking in.” Ford smiled again, and this time, it seemed more genuine. “He’s good people, Patrick Yarmouth. But there’s no need for me to tell you that, is there?”