Juliet blinked, cocked her head. “I haven’t thought about it. It’s my parents’ house. My grandparents gave it to them when they moved to Florida ten years ago. Honestly, I can’t imagine my folks ever being gone. As to this house, it has their stamp on it. For me, it’s a bit too opulent.” She waved Mia to a red velvet Victorian love seat with graceful scrolled arms. Juliet poured a cup of tea from a whimsical teapot and placed a cup in front of Mia. “Oolong. I hope you like it. It’s my early afternoon treat.”

Mia thanked her, took a sip, and nearly swooned. Hot and pungent, just what she needed. “Thank you. It’s delicious.”

Juliet nodded and sat across from Mia, the light from the bow windows full on her face.

For the first time, Mia really looked at Juliet Ash Calley. She was riveted. Of course she’d seen her photos, but the woman in person was . . . Mia, the wordsmith, could only come up with—drop-dead gorgeous. Juliet was blessed with skin like porcelain, eyes so pale a blue they were almost silver, and absurdly long lashes, even darker than her hair. She was several years older than Mia, not as model thin as Pamela; that is, no bones were showing. She looked fit and strong in dark blue sweats, the jacket open to a white silk cami, soft black ballet slippers on her feet. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a thick ponytail and fastened with a pink poof ball, an oddly charming effect. Mia said without hesitation, “Forgive me for staring, but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. Mr. Harrington must have thought he’d died and gone to heaven when he laid eyes on you.”

Juliet blinked, reared back in her chair. “What? Oh, well, thank you, but I strongly doubt that was Alex’s reaction when he first saw me. I was about six years old, missing a front tooth, wore tight braids, and pink tights on my skinny legs.”

Mia said, smiling, “I like the visual.”

Juliet said, “Of course I googled you, Ms. Briscoe. I realized I’d read some of your Guardian articles that appeared in the Boston Globe. I came away thinking you’re bright and a good writer. You’re not about doing political hatchet jobs or pushing an agenda, and that’s refreshing in these contentious times. That’s why I was fine with seeing you.