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She nodded once in approval. “I’m familiar with several charities you could involve yourself in. You only have to ask, and I can put in a good word. And if you ever decide that your cards have changed, well, fundraising is only a skill. You’d be surprised how easily a few honeyed words will separate people from their dollars. You just have to know the right people.”

“And the right words.”

A satisfied grin stretched her pink lips. “You stick with me, darling. I’ll teach you everything you need to know about raising funds for good causes.”

New opportunities unfurled in my mind like delicate, exotic orchids. Money had always been my greatest obstacle, but if Nessa could help me overcome that, if she could help me into a position at a nonprofit…

I beamed at her. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, my dear. But before you leave Henley, I beg you to please fix the broken bits.”

We both chuckled, and my gaze wandered toward the lawn once more, where rays of golden sunlight sparkled in the pool water and highlighted the fall colors of the woods. Two figures exited from the treeline at a jog, wearing running gear.

“Oh, look.” Nessa leaned toward the balcony rail. “They’re back from their run.”

Gluttonous, I stared at Cam as he slowed to a walk beside his father at the far end of the property. “He still runs?”

“Oh, yes. Do you?”

I shook my head, but remained zeroed in on Cam. “I hurt my knee in college. Had to switch to the stationary bike.”

“That’s too bad.” Interest sizzled in her tone, but its import didn’t fully register until she said, “Is something wrong?”

I snapped my head toward her, ripping myself away from the inappropriate staring. “Not at all.”

“Would you like a refill?” She offered the kettle, all innocence.

“Yes.” I held out my cup, but my treacherous eyes strayed once more toward the grounds. Cam was treading up the stone steps, laughing at something his father said. At the top, his head lifted toward us, and he raised one hand in a half-wave that I quickly returned. His father followed Cam’s gaze and shook his head. He said something, but Cam didn’t respond. He peeled away from the path toward a separate wing of the house. After a beat, his father headed to the main house.

“Does Camden live here?” I asked.

“Of course,” Nessa said. “This home has been in the Shepherd family since the twenties. He’ll live in the east wing until he marries.”

“What happens when he marries?”

“He and his wife will take possession of all this, and Shep and I will move into the east wing. That’s how it’s always been done.”

Something inside me curled up and died. “Tradition is important to you, isn’t it?”

She waved a hand. “Tradition is an illusion, but it does provide a bit of comfort, does it not? Like a stable platform in a rough sea.”

I forced a smile.

“Though, I’ll say”—she leaned in conspiratorially—“it can become a tad boring. Shaking it up now and again, now that is where my true talents lie.”

Twenty-Three

At the meeting on Monday, I presented the tweaks to our new ad Edmond and I worked on last week. Not the most enjoyable week of my life. The man clearly hated me. We’d argued at least twice daily regarding the language. Edmond—and the rest of my team—was vehemently against words like apologize, sorry, regret, etc. I, obviously, was strongly for them, since I was both wise and reasonable.

Cam listened to both sides and eventually sighed. “I’ll take it to Shep. He’ll decide.”

Which felt like a win if I was honest, even if it didn’t land in my favor.

After that, I went rogue and presented the two ideas my team hated. Cam liked them both, but his eyebrows shot up at the Unless it’s Henley, I’m faking it concept before he burst into laughter. “That’s clever.”

“I thought so,” I replied with a satisfied smile.

Edmond frowned. “I think that might ruffle some feathers in our usual customer.”