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I leaned against the railing and looked long and hard before my eyes landed on the most innocuous-looking man I could find. There was nothing at all remarkable about him, nothing to distinguish him from the pack; he was average height, build, dress, and expression. “There!” I said, pointing triumphantly into the crowd. “Him.”
James, Nick, and Abby leaned over to look at the same time and zeroed in on the man like lions on the hunt. A faint shadow passed across Nick’s face, and for a moment, I thought I had them beat, but once he opened his mouth, the games began. “He looks like my old polo instructor.”
“Mr. Cuthbert,” James responded promptly. “He always wore that old afghan, until we accidently set fire to it down at—”
“St. Jude’s Pub!” they all finished in unison.
A victorious gleam flashed in James’s eyes. “That, love, is Mr. Jude Larkin, the son of Mary and Thomas Larkin. He is formally of Sussex, but he currently resides in London, on a street not so far from ours.”
I shook my head and batted my eyes at him, unable to keep up. “Okay. What about her?”
“Oh, she’s easy,” Abby said, glancing down.
“Odd. I never found her to be as easy as you, dear,” Nick teased, earning him a spousal slap on the arm.
“Hush, you,” Abby said. “See her long neck like a crane?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, English cranes are only found in Somerset. Somerset was the name of the street where we found that awesome Chinese place, right on the edge of—”
“Chelsea Garden,” they answered again.
“Chelsea Richmond.” Nick leaned forward with a smile. “Two dogs, three fish, and deathly afraid of needles.”
“Ironic,” Abby murmured, gazing absentmindedly over the crowd, “seeing as though both her parents are phlebotomists.”
“Incredible.” I looked around with glee, determined to find someone who would stump them. “Well, what about—”
I was interrupted when a tall man opened the door to our box and stepped inside, the very man I’d secretly hoped I’d never see again.
There was a slight pause before Nick straightened up and smiled like some wicked jack-o-lantern. “And this, friends, is Robert. He’s just a dick, easy to remember.”
Robert’s eyes narrowed when they fell on Nick, widened automatically when they caught sight of me and Abby, then tensed nervously when they came to rest on his brother. “Can we talk?”
James stared at him but didn’t say a word. For a split second, I thought he might chuck his twin right over the side of the balcony, but in the end, he pushed silently to his feet and followed his doppelganger to the entryway of our private room.
“Hurry back, James,” Nick called loudly, staring at Robert with open loathing. “The second half’s about to start. You shouldn’t waste time on things that just don’t matter.”
“Very subtle, babe.” Abby nudged him in the side, then turned her gaze back to the stage. “Would you like to use the binoculars? Then your passive-aggressive campaign will be complete.”
She meant it as a joke, but Nick seized the idea with enthusiasm. “Brilliant, love.” He picked up the glasses and kicked his legs up on a chair, openly spying as he tried to read their lips. “This is why I married you.”
Abby flipped him off right in front of the lenses, then pushed to her feet. “I’m going for more champagne. Della, would you like some?”
“Absolutely...and thanks.”
I watched her go, then turned back to Nick. I studied him curiously as he proceeded to blatantly spy on his best friend. From where we sat, I could hear only the fringes of what was going on, a muffled exclamation of, “James, you can’t be serious,” which I was sure earned a colorful, memorable reply.
“Do you ever think about doing it?” I asked suddenly.
“All the time,” Nick said with a naughty glint in his eye, “but I’m a married man, darling. Sorry. I’m afraid Abby would kill us both.”
I laughed and shook my head. “No, I meant...what James is trying to do. Have you ever thought of taking over your father’s company.”
“No point in false hope, Della. That old man’s too rotten to ever die,” Nick replied matter-of-factly, never peeling his eyes from the binoculars. “He made a deal with Satan long ago. He’s doomed to live forever.”
I snorted under my breath, then turned to stare at the identical silhouettes in the entryway. “He can’t be worse than Robert.” A belated shudder ran through my shoulders as I drained what was left of my champagne. “Ever since that night back at the office...” I broke off suddenly, terrified that I had almost let it slip.
