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He hummed in agreement. “You just have to tell me what you want.”
“Let me think about it, and I’ll get back to you.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Thirty-Two
On Sunday, a black car arrived at Ravi’s house to pick me up. A pang of nerves attacked as the driver whisked me away toward the Shepherd estate, but I settled it with slow breaths.
I probably wouldn’t see Shep. This was a tea with Nessa only.
“Hold tight, Miss. I’ll grab the door,” the driver said, and I looked up to find we’d already arrived.
Again, Nessa greeted me at the door, but this time she hugged me. In the three seconds I savored her warm embrace, an impossible future spanned out before me, and my heart squeezed tight. I didn’t just have a crush on Cam. I had one on his mother. His best friends. His entire life. Every minute I spent in their company would only make it harder to pull away.
Deepening my attachment was pure masochism. Why was I torturing myself?
Nessa pulled back, but kept hold of my arms. “I’m so glad we could do this again, dear.”
“Me too. I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“Let’s get inside. It’s a bit nippy, isn’t it?”
I nodded and followed her through the house. This time she led me to the piano room, where a cozy sitting area basked in a patch of sunlight. A bank of curved windows looked over the front of the property. The fall oranges and reds of the forest proved even more riotous than last time.
Two deep blue wingback chairs sat near the windows, and one of Ravi’s coffee tables served as a statement piece before them. As I sat, I ran my hand over the piece. His most popular design involved dramatic wood grains bracketing an epoxy resin meant to resemble a river. He’d done rivers in all colors of the rainbow, but this table matched the blue of the chairs to perfection.
“Mrs. Shepherd?” trilled a voice, and a woman with a long blond ponytail and a crisp white button-up peeked around the corner. “Would you like your coffee service now?”
“Yes, please, dear. If you wouldn’t mind.” Nessa settled into her seat and looked at me. “Ravi’s work is impressive, is it not?”
“Yes. I can’t believe he thought he wanted to be an accountant.”
Nessa’s tinkling laugh filled the room. “His talents would have been wasted.”
The blond woman returned with a tray of coffee, complete with cream, three types of sugar, caramel sauce and biscotti.
I beamed at the spread. “Wow. This looks great. Thank you.”
She grinned. “Just a little something extra. I like to make it pretty.”
“Julia helps me around the house a few days each week,” Nessa said. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Julia waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, you’d survive just fine, Mrs. Shepherd. Now, I have to get on before TJ’s scrimmage.”
Nessa thanked her for her help, then turned to me. “How are you doing, my dear?”
I paused, wondering if that was a loaded question. Did she know what her husband had said to me? “I’m fine. How about yourself?”
She thrust that question away with a delicate finger flick as if to say, All’s well. “I heard the expo was quite a success.”
“Well, no one heckled us, so—”
She chuckled. “I heard you went viral, or whatever they call it.”
Having missed the entire week of work, I only had a small inkling of what Carley Gentry’s involvement meant for sales. I did know views were in the millions and everyone wanted the recipe for a New Old Fashioned.
Perhaps I could capitalize on that…
