But Chloe’s concern turned into wonder as she watched Susan peel back the foil on the bottle with one pull, untwist the metal cap cleanly, grasp the bottom of the bottle with one hand and the cork with the other, and turn the bottle until a whisper of a pop echoed around the kitchen.

Susan caught Chloe’s look. “I wasn’t always a librarian who lived in a tiny village, love. There was once upon a time when I was quite the London party girl.” She raised her eyebrows, poured, then handed Chloe, still dumbstruck, a glass. “Should I be insulted that you look so surprised?”

“What? Oh, no, sorry. It’s just … as well as having no filter sometimes—like with Lucy today—I often find myself underestimating people. Sorry.”

“I see. Well, not to worry, love. I won’t take it personally.” She winked again, then raised her own glass which was now brimming. “Happy Christmas, Chloe. It’s been lovely having you here.” They clinked glasses. “So,” said Susan taking the seat next to Chloe, “Now that everything’s humming along for our lunch, and we’ve spoken to our Lucy, why don’t we dig into your dilemma.”

Chloe almost choked on her bubbles, which was a shame, as it was French Champagne and utterly delicious. She composed herself, wiping her bottom lip. “My dilemma?” she squeaked, then cleared her throat. She adored Lucy’s mum, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to “dig into” the depths of the paparazzi horror show that Archer had shared with her, especially as it was Christmas and she was hoping to immerse herself in the rest of the day without giving it another thought. Still …

“Look, and please tell me if I’m just being a nosy busybody, but Alan’s face when he arrived …” Susan sighed and shook her head. Chloe waited for her to add a series of tuts, but they didn’t come. “And after he left, you seemed … well, not yourself, Chloe love. I’m just saying that if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

Chloe never talked to her mum about this type of thing. She only divulged the ins and outs of her love life—so to speak and such that it was—with Ash, Lucy, and Jules. Susan took another sip of her bubbles, smoothing down her apron with the other hand. It was a masterful interrogation technique, the patient pause, and Chloe found herself succumbing without further resistance.

“Well, you see, Archer and I, we were papped.”

If Susan was surprised, she did a brilliant job of hiding it. Maybe she’d been more than a London party girl. Maybe she’d also worked for MI6. “I see,” she said, nodding solemnly.

“Kissing,” added Chloe.

That did evoke a slight raise of the eyebrows. “Mmm.” Susan’s eyes dropped to the table and her brow furrowed slightly. After a few moments, Chloe practically on the edge of her seat for each one, Susan lifted her eyes. “Chloe, I have known Alan Tate all his life. He is a truly good person. Talented? Yes. Handsome? Undeniably …”