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“Most of it.”

“It shows.”

Charlotte glanced at me. “Because I know people?”

“No, because half the city knows you.”

“Networking,” she replied.

“I think people are just happy to see you.”

Charlotte’s smile widened. “Well, that’s a lovely thing to say. My mother is like this too. People have always been drawn to her.”

“Are you close?”

“Very. She’s one of my favorite people.”

There was something uncomplicated in the way she said it that made me smile.

“Does she live in New York?”

“Yes. She’s probably the reason I became a writer.”

“Was she a writer too?”

“No. She just never tried to make me less strange.”

I laughed softly. “Strange?”

“Most of my life, people have considered me some shade of eccentric. My mother cultivated it. If I wanted to spend an afternoon making up stories about strangers in restaurants, she wanted to hear them. If I became obsessed with an old movie or decided I was going to dabble in photography, she never asked whether it was practical. She just wanted to know what happened next.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“She is.” Something in Charlotte’s expression softened. “When I told her I was going to dedicate my first novel to her, she was so happy she didn’t believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t she believe you?”

Charlotte gave a small shrug. “I think she never realized how much all of that mattered to me. She thought she was just being my mother.”

Something about that stayed with me.

By lunchtime, I had learned more about the residents of Blackwood Hall than I had since arriving. There was an unmistakable affection in the way Charlotte described them, the kind usually reserved for family. Every story seemed to branch into three others before eventually circling back to its starting point. Over tea, the conversation drifted to the upcoming gala.

“Have you attended many of them?” I asked.

“Three.”

“And they’re really as elaborate as everyone claims?”

“Even more,” Charlotte said, and looked pleased about it.

I shook my head. “I still can’t quite picture it.”

“You’ll see.”

A thought occurred to me. “Will the Chairman be there?”

Charlotte laughed. “You’ve skipped directly to the important question.”