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gotten two pieces of fruit off him rather than one.
“Greedy little girl,” he said, stroking her head and ears with one finger. “What will I do with
you?”
A knock sounded on his door. “Are you decent?” Hugh called out.
“Come in, sir.” Finch was not yet dressed for the ball, but he was presentable in his jeans and
an old t-shirt.
“Good morning,” Hugh said cheerily as he came into the suite and closed the door behind him.
“Are you ready for today?”
“I suppose so, sir. Do I need to change my attire before we leave? You didn’t give me a dress
code.”
Hugh waved a hand. “No, no. You’re fine as you are. Shall we go?” He held out his arm.
Finch stared at it for several long moments. Hugh’s expression started to dim, so Finch closed
the cage and took his arm. Hugh beamed at him and Finch couldn’t help but smile back. “Let’s
go, sir.”
Finch
George met them at the door. He said nothing, but when Hugh wasn’t looking, he smirked at
Finch.
“You know this isn’t my doing,” Finch hissed sotto voce to the chauffeur.
“Of course it isn’t. We all know that. Well, except for Emma, but you know how she is,” George
said, then he winked at Finch.
Actually winked.
Perhaps everyone in the household was running mad.
Finch bristled and was seconds away from reminding George that they were professionals on
the job when Hugh swung around and beamed at Finch like nothing else in his world existed.
Finch, enamored, forgot why he’d been so angry and hurried to catch up to Hugh while George
snickered behind him all the way to the car.
Once settled in the back seat, Finch asked, “Well, sir, are you going to tell me our destination,
or must I wait until we arrive?”
“Destinations,” Hugh corrected. “And I suppose it won’t hurt to tell you our first stop. It’s
Lorenzo’s.”
