The warmth turned sluggish in me. Cade raised a mollifying hand. “I gather Kris Ann hasn’t mentioned this, but you’d be doing me a favor to consider it, and not just because you’re seeing my daughter. You’ve got brains and ambition and those are things no large firm can afford to overlook.” His voice turned easy and comfortable. “Besides, any interview is good practice.”

“It’s just that I never thought to live here.”

Cade nodded as if that were natural and reached for my glass. “Let me get you a second drink.”

He limped off while I tried to construct an answer. I was still puzzling when he returned with the fresh drink. He paused to look out the window, then jerked the drapes closed with sudden violence, like a man hanging a cat. He handed me the drink, asking, “How does it stand between you and Kris Ann?”

I hesitated. “Fairly serious, I think. At least I am.”

Cade settled back in the corner and took one sip, tasting it on his lips and eyeing me thoughtfully. Then he spread his arms in an avuncular, confiding gesture. “You’re adults, of course. I only ask because Kris Ann’s always lived here. The South is home to her, and of course she’s been spoiled—perhaps more so because her mother died and I’ve tried to make up for that. But I wonder whether you’d be handicapping yourself were you to ask her to move to a strange place and leave what she’s had.”

I was feeling uneasy. “I guess that’s up to her.”

Cade seemed not to hear. “After all,” he went on, “there are other differences.”

“Such as?”

He glanced carelessly around the room. “Just that the two of you are used to different things. And of course there’s the Catholic business.”

“The Catholic business?”

He gave me a probing glance. “You don’t think being of different faiths is a problem?”

I wondered why responding was so hard: I only went to Mass at home, and was home rarely. I paused, then said, “I’ve sort of let that lapse.”

“I see.” He was cheerful again. “I don’t mean to pry, you understand, but I do worry. Perhaps someday you’ll be a father, too.”

“I hope so.”

“Then you’ll consider my offer?”

I looked past him at the books and antiques. “I’ll talk to Krissy,” I finally said.

“Fair enough.” He broke into the wide-as-the-plains smile I would later see him flash on clients like a sudden gift. “Let’s have another drink, Adam.”

“Let’s do this on the porch,” I told him now.

Cade sat drinking in our sunroom, under an antique brass fan Kris Ann had salvaged from an old hotel. He rose with a long upward glare and followed me outside.