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“I’d like to see the mood board and sketches on Ryder.”
“Sure. It’s just preliminary.” She smiled when he loosened his tie and flipped open the top button of his shirt. “And that’s why women often like men in ties.”
“Because they like to see them wearing a noose?”
“No, because when they do what you just did, it’s sexy. I don’t know why, but it is.”
“I’ve got to wear another one on Saturday. Wedding. A cousin in Kennebunkport. You’ve got your mother this weekend or I’d talk you into going with me.”
“Don’t you already have a plus-one?”
Shaking his head, he speared one of the shrimp off her plate. “Wedding dates are dicey. Then you’ve got your great-aunt Marilyn giving your plus-one a significant look, telling you what a lovely couple you make before she beams, and says,When are we going to dance at your wedding, Trey?”
Shaking his head, he went back to his moo shu pork.
“Once a single guy hits thirty, you spend half your time at a family wedding dodging the when’s-your-turn question.”
“For women that comes once you pass twenty-five. Do you actually have a great-aunt Marilyn?”
“I do, who’s married to my great-uncle Lloyd, who’d guffaw—he’s the only person I know who actually guffaws—as he ogled my date, telling me I’d better snap this one up quick. She looks like a keeper.”
“Now I’m sorry I’m going to miss it. For me it’s my maternal grandmother, particularly, who’ll give me a long, piercing look while reminding me having a career is fine, but a job doesn’t warm the bed at night and won’t put a baby in my arms.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, Grammy always manages the two for one—marriage and babies. Her first comment when I got engaged? It’s about time.”
“And when you ended it?”
“I can thank my mother—with the full backing of her sister—for warning Grammy off. Apparently Tracie got a stinging lecture, and I got a warm, sympathetic call.”
“Grammy’s okay.”
“Yeah, she is. But if I took you to a wedding, I’d get that long, piercing look.”
They let the dogs out while they dealt with the dishes. Just as Sonya wondered how long the normal would last, she saw that all the cabinet doors in the butler’s pantry stood open.
“Oh well.”
She walked in to close them.
“Did anything happen today?”
“Nothing new or noteworthy. I looked at the clock whenever I came down. It’s where you put it. Four-twenty. Otherwise, Casper the friendly housekeeper was on the job.”
“Casper?”
“I’m considering the name gender neutral, even though I think female. She made my bed, lit the library fire, washed and folded the dog towels. And Clover provided my office music, as usual.”
His smile spread. “You’re calling her Clover.”
“She told me to—musically. Crimson and clover,” Sonya sang, “over and over.”
Instead of the slow smile, he shot her a quick grin equally appealing. “Got it. And you can sing.”
“Carrying a tune isn’t singing.”
“You can sing,” he repeated. “Something you kept under wraps after pot roast. You won’t get away with that again. So nothing from the third floor?”
