Richard's attention shifted to me. His smile was warm, his eyes shrewd. "So this is the woman who's been keeping our favorite architect from his drafting table. I've heard quite a bit about you."
"All lies, I'm sure." The quip came out before I could second-guess it.
Richard laughed—a genuine sound, not the polished chuckle I'd expected. "I like her already. Where did you two meet?"
"My coffee shop," I said. "He walked in a year ago and told me my foam art looked like a deformed sheep."
"It did," Callum said without missing a beat.
"It was a heart."
“If you say so.”
Richard looked between us, amused. "And you started dating him after that?"
"God, no. I hated him for at least eight months.” I felt Callum's fingers twitch against my back. "He grew on me. Like a fungus."
"A fungus." Richard's grin widened. "Callum, I don't think I've ever heard anyone compare you to a fungus before."
"It's a unique experience, being with Willow. She keeps me humble."
"Someone needs to," Eleanor interjected. Her voice was cool, measured. She was still assessing me with those sharp eyes, and I had the distinct impression I was failing whatever test she'd constructed. "Tell me, Willow—what is it you do at this coffee shop?"
"I manage it. Brew & Bean, over on Maple Street."
"How charming." The way she said charming made it sound as though she were diagnosing a disease. "And how long have you two been together?"
"Officially? Six weeks.” I glanced at Callum, found him watching me with an intensity that made my mouth go dry. "Unofficially, probably longer. What can I say? Turns out, I’m irresistible.”
Richard made a sweep of me head and toe and agreed, “Clearly.”
“Put your eyes back in your head, darling,” Eleanor sipped her champagne. “She’s taken.”
Polite chuckles followed but I could feel Eleanor sizing me up. Was I threat? Richard might prize solid ethics and morals in his people but the jury was out whether or not he subscribed to the same principles.
As the fourth wife, Eleanor was probably eagle-eyed for anyone who might threaten her position.
Calm down, honey, I don’t want your rich, old geezer. Clearly, I have my own.Not that Callum was old. He was more, perfectly seasoned, and looking like a Callum-sized meal in that suit. My cheeks heated atthe inappropriate bent of my private thoughts but Richard caught it.
“Ehhhh, I know that look.” Richard clapped Callum on the shoulder. “She’s going to keep you on your toes, young man. Don’t hurt yourself.”
It was Callum’s turn to blush as he accepted the good-natured ribbing.
"We should let you mingle," Eleanor said, pulling gently on her husband. “We have many guests to welcome to the party.”
"Of course." Callum's hand pressed against my back, guiding me away from the Ashfords. "We'll see you later."
“Yikes, that was like facing down a shark in a designer dress,” I said. “Is she going to stab me with a shrimp fork if I accidentally look Richard’s way?”
He chuckled. “Maybe. Best not to test your theory.”
I shuddered, my hand going around Callum’s strong, muscled forearm.
"Eleanor snagged her current title when Richard and his last wife were separated. She was hired to redecorate his Hampton house and suddenly, she was the next Mrs. Ashford —a title she guards fiercely.” Callum plucked my empty champagne glass from my hand, set it on a passing server's tray. “But you handled yourself well."
I grimaced. “I called you a fungus.”
"Richard loved it."
