Obviously, Claudine had been shocked when she called. Shocked that it was Zara herself and not a personal assistant. Shocked that someone Zara’s age still knew how to call. Claudine’s younger employees only texted.

“I found the listing for Montague House online,” Zara said. Her voice sounded normal, without a trace of the soaring falsetto that had sold out arenas around the world and earned her fifty million Instagram followers. “I’d like to fly in and see it next Thursday.”

“Absolutely,” Claudine said. “We have our company holiday party that day, but I’ll reschedule.”

Claudine was relieved. Money was so tight that she’d already scaled back the holiday party from previous years. Usually she hired a top caterer to pass hors d’oeuvres and mix specialty cocktails. This year the plan was takeout: spring roll platters and Thai meatballs. Even the self-serve prosecco bar felt like a stretch.

“Don’t reschedule. I can see it another time—” Claudine could hear the waning interest in her voice, Zara was only used to hearing yes.

“We can combine them?” she offered quickly before she had time to think about what she was saying, before she could process how this would affect Henry. “Why don’t I move the party to the house. It was absolutely built for entertaining, and you can see it in top shape.”

“A holiday party sounds perfect,” Zara said. “It’s so hard to get in the spirit in L.A. And being around people right now would be good for me. What can I bring?”

For a moment Claudine almost didn’t tell her about the Secret Santa. She could just cancel it. Her employees would be glad. She knew how much they dreaded it each year. At most holiday parties, the game was a lighthearted romp. Cheap gag gifts. Ten- or twenty-dollar limit. Claudine’s version was different. In introducing the annual game, she had neglected to include a price limit. After a couple years, a spirit of one-upmanship had been established, along with an expectation that each employee should bring a lavish gift, one that reflected how well they’d performed over the year, how much they’d racked up in commissions. The purpose had originally been to make people laugh, to reward the most clever. After a few years of observing the tradition, however, it was clear that their lighthearted, team-building holiday game served only to create competition, cause jealousy, and stir rivalry among her staff. Claudine encouraged a level of competition, but even she would admit that including Zara in this year’s Secret Santa would make the team even more uneasy and desperate to impress.

“Ooh, I love party games!” Zara said. “Entertaining is my jam, and it’d be nice to see the space full of people.”