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“They’re cookies.”

“Exactly.”

Colt introduces me every time.

“My wife, Astrid.”

The first time I notice the word.

The second time I notice that he does not.

By the third introduction, I know I like hearing it.

Peyton catches my eye after one of them. I take a glass of water from a passing tray.

She does not comment, which is why I like her.

At dinner, Hartley reaches the table while Colt is stealing asparagus from my plate.

“That yours?” Hartley asks.

“It was,” I say.

Hartley looks at me.

“You married him voluntarily.”

“I have been asked that before.”

“Reasonable question.”

Colt points his fork at him.

“You sign my checks.”

“I know exactly what I’m dealing with.”

Later, when dessert arrives, I take Colt’s before he reaches for it.

He looks at the empty space in front of him.

“That was mine.”

“It was.”

Hartley laughs hard enough to draw attention from the next table.

After dinner there is a silent auction, which is apparently not silent at all.

Colt bids on a weekend in Fredericksburg.

Ryan immediately raises him.

Colt raises Ryan.

Peyton watches both of them.

“This is how charities survive.”