It was definitely a man’s room, but it was also a home-and-hearth kind of room with deep, earth-tone furniture. The kind of furniture you sat down in and never wanted to get out of. Her kind of room. The fieldstone fireplace took up one entire wall, with almost a cord of wood piled on the side. On one side of the fireplace a huge copper tub held dry mountain flowers. That’s a woman’s thing. On the mantel were pictures she couldn’t see clearly. Probably Pappy’s parents. Was that a woman’s thing, too? Bookshelves held classics, best sellers, books on nutrition, and one that read Modern Combat. Two pictures sat on the top shelf. Pappy with two different U.S. presidents. That was definitely a guy thing.

An entertainment unit built into the third wall held a VCR, TV, DVD player, along with stacks and stacks of CDs and DVDs.

As Sam walked across the room, she was aware of the soft music playing in the background. Frank Sinatra singing about a summer wind blowing. Pappy’s choice of music surprised her. She herself was a Bon Jovi fan. But she liked Old Blue Eyes, especially when it came to dancing or just mellow listening. Douglas Cosmo Rainford, III, had liked the Grateful Dead. When he wasn’t being romantic. Go figure that one.

“Nice place you have here,” Sam said curtly. She felt uncomfortable and knew it showed. She wondered if Pappy was thinking about that kiss out in the snow or if he had just glossed over it. She thought about it a hundred times a day. Well, maybe not a hundred, but she did think about it, and she dreamed about it, too.

“Take a seat, Rainford,” Pappy said, motioning to a deep comfortable chair across from him. Sam perched on the end of the cushion. She looked like she was poised for flight. Pappy looked like he recognized the position. He reached for a manila envelope and tossed it to her. She caught it.

“My team wants to know where we’re going.”

“New York. You’ll leave at first light. Each team is on a different flight. You’ll return Christmas Eve morning. Poke Donovan will meet you on your arrival and take you to the Ritz Carlton. There are six credit cards inside the envelope. You may all shop till you drop, courtesy of your new employers. You can either bring your purchases back with you or have them shipped by FedEx for next-day delivery. There is $3,000 in cash for incidentals, five hundred each, again, courtesy of your new employers. Charge everything else. Do you have any questions?”

“Does the hotel have a gym?”

“Yes, and a pool. It’s convenient to all the stores you’ll want to shop at. Anything else?”

“The girls want six-hundred-thread-count sheets.”

“Not a problem,” Pappy said.

“Can we make telephone calls?”