Miles grew very still. Nothing showed on his face, but his glasses started to fog up. Mia took another sip of her chardonnay. She felt sorry for him, but she wasn’t about to help him out of his lovely deep hole. He’d been sent to worm information out of her, and he should have known he’d be the sacrificial goat if things didn’t go well.

He cleaned his glasses once again, slid them back on. “He did, yes. I believe Ms. Barrett mentioned to him you might.”

Mia said, “I wonder how Ms. Barrett guessed? As I recall I didn’t mention my visiting Ms. Calley.” She smiled. “Oh well, I suppose word travels fast in their circle.” Mia wasn’t about to throw Juliet under the bus, and so she said easily, “Don’t make yourself crazy, Miles. Ms. Calley didn’t accuse Alex of kidnapping babies or running down people he didn’t like with his Jaguar.” Mia wondered if Miles would quote that line to Alex, and whether Alex would know she meant Jordan Jeffers. She wondered if Alex even remembered Jordan Jeffers.

Miles said, “Alex doesn’t drive a Jag, he drives an F150.”

Mia lightly tapped the heel of her hand to her forehead. “How could I have doubted that for an instant? Of course he drives an American truck. Does he haul away old furniture for his mom?”

Miles tried for a laugh, nearly made it. “You’re joking. You know some political opponents will do almost anything, say almost anything, if they catch a scent their opponents might have a weakness. And who wouldn’t be worried about an ex-fiancée? Mr. Harrington’s current fiancée, Ms. Barrett, she’ll make quite an impressive first lady of New York City, don’t you think?”

Mia took another sip of her chardonnay, slightly woody, as she liked it. “Oh yes, Pammie would surely make a fine first lady of the manor. She’s confident, smart, and after speaking with her, I think she’d do anything to help him win this election. Pammie and Alex Harrington make a fine team.”

The sarcasm hit him in the face, but he ignored it. “Good, I knew she’d impress you, she impresses everyone. She and Alex have agreed not to refer to her as Pammie, by the way. It’s too casual, not fitting for a first lady of New York City. Could you please not refer to her by her nickname in anything you write?”

Mia stared at him. “What? Mr. Harrington is worried about his future wife’s nickname? Voters would drop away if they heard it? Me? I think Pammie sounds all sorts of cuddly and fun and ready for a pillow fight. Pamela, on the other hand, sounds a bit stuffy, standoffish, makes her sound full of herself, don’t you agree?”