Wild Man Creek

Thirteen




Colin had never before met a woman who traveled with spices, condiments and recipes. He supposed it should come as no surprise that Kelly had stopped at the grocery store on her way into town to buy the food she wanted to prepare and eat—she was a chef, after all. Wherever she went, she cooked. But recipes in a locked box, the case of spices and another of condiments—this was interesting. And her cases were more like tool boxes with handles so she could carry them with her wherever she went. And then there were her knives—special knives that could slice your finger off if you didn’t know what you were doing. She always had a set of her own knives with her in case she’d be cooking, and if she was going to be eating, she’d probably be cooking.

After meeting Kelly and visiting for a while Colin had taken a place at the kitchen table with his laptop, watching and listening as the girls cavorted around the kitchen. Their choreography combined with chatter was interesting; they had a system for everything. Kelly was the leader in this venue: “Chop this tomato very small, no bigger than your baby fingernail. Mince the parsley and I mean mince. So this Denny helps around the garden? I don’t remember you telling me about him.”

“This size?” Jilly asked. “Sure you do—I told you all about him. Did I tell you I thought he asked me on a date?”

Colin’s ears perked up at that.

“That size is good. No way! A date?”

“I misunderstood—he was offering to take me to Jack’s for supper because he thought I wasn’t getting out enough. So I told him I had Colin.” She shot him a look with a smile. “Now he feels better about things. He didn’t really want to date me at all. Which is good because I wouldn’t have considered it under any circumstances, even if I didn’t have Colin. And I’d hate to fire him—he’s indispensable.”

“And awful young,” Kelly said.

“Awful,” Jilly agreed. “You still seeing that cook?”

“Chef, not cook. Preacher’s a cook, Luca is a chef. We’re really just friends. Friends with potential. We talk on the phone, text, email and sometimes cook together, but neither of us has much free time. Those pieces are getting too big, Jill.”

“Sorry. Maybe you should find a way to have more time. Is he well-known, your chef?”

“In culinary circles I suppose he is. That’s probably what attracted me in the first place. We talk food.”

“Hmm. I guess that can’t be any more boring than talking seeds….”

Colin laughed out loud and both women turned to look at him. “Is that so?” he asked, grinning. “Just so you know, Jilly never bores me.”

It was interesting to him that Jilly had referred to Kelly as very beautiful, as though she could be more beautiful than Jilly. They were different enough that if you hadn’t looked at their eyes and smiles you might not think of them as sisters. Jilly was tall and trim with chestnut hair that was smooth; her eyes were large and brown and, as Colin knew only too well, they could become even darker and sultry when she was getting turned on. Kelly, by comparison, was shorter, rounder, had blond hair full with loose curls and blue eyes. But their eyebrows had identical arches. Their teeth—perfect and straight—were the same shape. Their lips were different, but their smiles were alike.

It made sense to him that a gardener would be slim, muscular and tan while a chef would be more curvaceous, fuller, rounder, her skin more ivory. It didn’t take much observation to appreciate how much hard work it must be to create dish after dish in a busy kitchen, yet he thought the gardening was still more physically demanding. Kelly looked like a gorgeous chef while Jilly looked like a heart-stopping athlete.

He realized Jilly looked as if she could ski the Alps, jump out of an airplane, dive in a coral reef…go on a safari. Play with him by day, heat up his sheets by night, pass the quiet time in sweet camaraderie, challenge him with her wit, appreciate those qualities in him that no one else ever took the time to notice…. What was this? A mate? He saw a partner, a friend, a lover impossible to forget or replace.

He shook his head absently. Colin didn’t mate. But then, according to her history and what she told him about herself, neither did Jilly. While he’d had many women and assumed he’d never settle down to one, Jilly had had few men in her life and thought that one day there might be one for the long term, but she didn’t count on it. Neither of them had ever had a romantic partner who’d tempted them to a permanent relationship. He and Jill were so alike…yet so different.

There was one thing tickling the edges of his mind, however. He was falling in love with her. This was a first. He wondered if this might have happened to him long ago if he had just slowed down enough. He searched his memory, but he couldn’t recall a single woman he wanted in the way he wanted Jilly. His Jilly. He had a very real urge to make her his so that no other man would ever touch her, so that she would always belong to him.

“Can you close up shop now, Colin?” Jilly asked him, tapping the laptop. “Kelly has hors d’oeuvres ready and then dinner.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “She’s going to make our cooking look pretty pathetic, isn’t she?”

“Oh, worse than that. She’s a genius.”

For the past couple of months Jill and Colin had joined forces in the kitchen at mealtime, throwing together an evening meal. It was always plenty satisfying, but certainly nothing special.

When Colin reclaimed his seat, a place mat, plate, linen napkin and water glass had appeared before him. He fingered the place mat. “Is this something new?”

“No,” Kelly said. “Something from my trunk. I know Jill doesn’t bother with anything as pedestrian as presentation. I brought what I needed.” She put a platter in the center of the table. It looked like a sampler platter, a few bites each of mini lettuce wraps, meatballs, humongous stuffed mushrooms, little baby pears and—

“Stuffed grape leaves, ground lamb and garlic meatballs, mushrooms stuffed with bread crumbs, tomato, celery and onion, baby yellow tomatoes straight off the porch, soft shell crab and broiled calamari. And—” she put down a small bowl of what looked like salsa and a small basket of sliced bread “—nana’s sweet relish and French baguette, thin sliced and lightly toasted. Mangia! Eat!”

Jill brought Colin an O’Doul’s and a chilled glass, but he waved it away. Kelly was pouring wine that she’d brought to complement the food and he wanted to participate. For a guy who was generally unimpressed with anything fancier than a grilled steak, or a burrito, this was intriguing. He suddenly wanted to experience it all and see if he connected with this whole passion—this transporting of special spices and condiments, this chopping a tomato a certain way, this seasoning and sautéing and then presenting the whole thing on a dish that had to be on a place mat.

He watched Kelly, then put a few items on his plate. He scooped a little of that sweet relish onto a thin slice of bread, bit down and said, “Jesus,” as if in a prayer. “What is this?”

Kelly merely shrugged. “Nana’s sweet relish. She used everything in the garden. Her first mission was to feed us, but her second objective was to pass on very old family recipes—her mother’s from Russia and her father’s from France. Then there were some from her American husband—Chester Matlock. The beauty of Nana’s recipes is that she never had access to the expensive delicacies—she only had what she could grow or buy cheap. She grew her own herbs in the windowsill and I remember she used to buy the cheapest ground meat and bring it home to grind it three more times. We had a meat grinder that was mounted on the counter—a bowl could fit under the spout. She worked hard to make her food delicious, but her first concern was that we be properly nourished.”

“That starts in the garden,” Jillian said. “We were very young when we came to Nana—we were the third generation she would raise. First her only child, her daughter, then her grandson, then us. And we’re the only ones who have had the opportunity to take on her legacy in the kitchen and the garden.”

“Now for the chicken,” Kelly said as she cleared space on the table.

She served a chicken so tender and delicious, Colin had to catch himself before he let his eyes roll back in his head in a swoon. He had no idea how it might’ve been made.

“Marinated in virgin olive oil and saffron, spritzed in lemon, sprinkled with parsley, seared and then steamed with sliced mushrooms. The baby beans are garnished in slivered beets and almonds, the rice cooked with onions, peppers, chopped black olives and topped with paprika, the same lightly toasted baguette, and Nana’s sauce—kind of a salsa made with fresh tomato, tomatillo, peppers—I brought that from home because it takes hours. It’s got a kick. And I apologize—I didn’t have time for dessert.”

Jillian and Colin exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

“What?” Kelly asked.

“Oh, you’re forgiven,” Colin said. “But just this once.”



For the next couple of nights, Colin’s palate was indulged. His routine with his lover changed, but he wasn’t unhappy about it. After a large, satisfying meal he retired to the bedroom on Jilly’s second floor while the sisters stayed up way too late, drank a bottle of wine between them, talked and whispered and laughed wildly. Then they would crawl up the stairs, not quietly, and head to their beds. Jill would clamber in beside him and, even though she brushed her teeth and washed her face, he could taste the pinot on her lips—and it wasn’t at all unpleasant.

By day Colin would paint, Jilly would garden and Kelly would shop, fool around in the kitchen and present them with a five-star meal. Her second night with them was Italian and her bruschetta was the most delectable he’d ever tasted. Then came an Italian chopped salad that left him weak in the knees and he wasn’t even fond of salad. In fact, vegetables didn’t do that much for him. Finally Kelly served an Italian dish made with eggplant, the very sound of which should have repelled him, but it was unbelievably delicious. Finally, a Tiramisu that brought tears to his eyes.

The third night brought one of Nana’s traditional French meals, and again, he was helpless. Again the girls laughed through a bottle of wine while he went to bed to leave them to their reunion.

When Jill came to bed, he pulled her against him and kissed her senseless. Nothing new there. But then he said, “I hate to leave in the morning. Please, freeze the leftovers!”

She laughed at him and promised she would.

He reached down to find her panties were still on. “What’s this? Is this how you plan to send me off?”

“Not exactly. I have something special for you.”

“Ohhh, I like to hear that….”

She reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a box. “It’s an iPhone—the latest.”

“I have a cell phone, Jilly.”

“I know, but you have an ordinary cell phone—this one will allow you to pick up your emails, has a GPS for directions, an iPod for your music. You can even download audio books to listen to while you drive.”

“I have to leave early, baby—how am I going to learn all that?”

“I’m going to show you how to make and answer calls before you go, how to use your GPS, and then you can play with it while you sit in hotel rooms with nothing better to do. I’ve already loaded my numbers and Luke’s number for you—you can do the rest. You can learn how to take pictures and send them from this phone.” She shrugged and looked down. “I was thinking ahead, Colin. Thinking of Africa, but not because I have expectations. But if you wanted to send me pictures from there and you’re not online, maybe this will come in handy.”

He put the box aside and pulled her on top of his long body. He pushed her hair away from her face. “I plan to keep in touch, Jilly, but it might be difficult from Africa. From out in the Serengeti. Even with this.”

“I understand that, but I want you to have all the tools, and it’s small. You can charge it in the Jeep. That way if you feel like sending me an email and the laptop doesn’t work for you, maybe this phone will. Besides, it’s very fun. You’ll like it.”

“You’re fun,” he said. “You and Kelly together are a hoot. Don’t you girls ever fight? Like the Riordan boys?”

“I’m learning that no one fights like the Riordan boys. Kelly and I have had our little spats, but not too often. We had to stick together when we were young. Life wasn’t always that easy.”

“You have a division of labor. She rules the kitchen—you rule the garden.”

“I know, interesting how that happened. And fortuitous, since we’d probably fight like cats if we competed in the same territory.”

“And what are you girls going to do while I’m gone?”

“We’re going to feed Denny one night, feed Preacher and his family one night, go eat at the bar one night and then Kelly’s on her way home.”

“I like her,” Colin said. “She’s cute and a genius in the kitchen, and you’re right, she’s very pretty—but Jilly, she’s not prettier than you.” He slid her panties down over her hips. “You are the woman I wake up wanting, fall asleep wanting, reach for in the night. You. To me, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Why, Colin,” she said with a smile. “That’s very romantic.”

“What’s strange about it is I’m not really the romantic type. I think you’re doing something witchy to me.”

“Ah, you found me out!”

“I’m going to love you slow tonight,” he said. “Slow and deep and easy, and I’m going to take a long, long time, so no screaming and begging….” He pulled her mouth down to his and kissed her. “This has to last me as long as a week, so let me have my way.”

“Don’t I always?” she asked in a breath. “So far, your way is my way.”



Colin had his Jeep loaded before dawn. Hearing voices in the kitchen, he went inside. Kelly offered to fix a big breakfast for the road, but Colin declined. “I want to move quickly now, get as much driving in today as I can, but I’m sorry to miss your breakfast. It’s my favorite meal.” Then he focused on Jilly. He smiled and touched her face. “I have my new phone plugged in. I have two phones now, two numbers, plus the laptop. Are you happy?”

“I’m happy you’re taking your art on the road. I think the next step is some kind of representation, but I’m going to wait to hear what you learn from these artists and galleries you’re visiting. Oh, Colin, I know this is the right thing for you to do. I know you won’t be disappointed! And I’ll miss you.” She rose on her toes to kiss him. “I’ll miss you so much, and I’m so glad you’re doing this.”

“You and Kelly stay out of trouble.”

“When you get back, I’m going to have buds on some of the most precious fruits,” she said. “You’re going to have to fake excitement.”

“I won’t have to fake it, baby. Just don’t forget about the leftovers!”

She grew suddenly serious. “Please. Be very careful driving. If you get tired or sore or—”

“Jilly, I flew a complicated aircraft in wars. I know my body, my ability, my limitations.”

She smiled. “Of course you do. I can’t wait to hear what you learn.”

“I already can’t wait to get home to you.”

He kissed her goodbye and left quickly. And she stood on the porch, then walked out to the drive and watched until he passed through the trees and disappeared.

It occurred to her that this was a bit like a dress rehearsal for his departure in September. It was such a precarious balance, wanting him to live his dream and yet find a way to never leave her.

Jill kicked off her slippers, rolled up her pant legs and went to her garden in her bare feet. She walked between the rows, the dirt squishing between her toes, and admired the growth. She visited almost every plant and would visit each one again several times through the day. An hour had passed by the time she headed to the back porch with mud on her knees. Kelly was sitting in one of the chairs on the porch holding a coffee mug in both hands. She smiled at Jillian. “Okay, baby?” she asked gently.

“Sure,” Jill said. “It’s so important that he do this. You saw his art. It’s magnificent. He doesn’t have to decide to paint full-time, but he has to know his worth. I know it’s beyond his expectations.”

“You love him,” Kelly said.

She smiled and gave a small nod. “Let’s not bring it up. It will only make him squeamish.”

“But he loves you,” Kelly said. “It’s so obvious.”

“Not to Colin,” Jillian said. She sat on the porch steps and brushed the drying mud from her knees. “Trust me.”

“Will you tell him how you feel?” Kelly asked.

Again she nodded. “I’ll tell him before he goes, but I’m going to find the best way to do it. When I tell him I love him, I want it to feel like a gift, not a noose. I wouldn’t be telling him to change him or to weaken him, but to strengthen him. I’d want to reinforce his sense of purpose.”

Kelly leaned forward. “Are you sure about that? Because you seem sad.”

Jillian leaned against the porch post. She shook her head. “I was just daydreaming a little. I’ve never had anything like this, Kell—never had a man in my bed every night, at my breakfast table every morning. When people talked about being in love I didn’t even realize they meant all this laughter, this level of friendship and encouragement, this… I didn’t know it was possible to have this kind of physical love. I’m sure no virgin, but I didn’t know a man could love a woman this way. It’s truly a miracle.”

“A miracle that will be over in September?”

“No,” Jillian said. Her smile was melancholy. “I’m sure it’ll never be over.”



While Jillian found her solace in the garden, Kelly liked to occupy herself in the kitchen. She lamented the lack of accoutrements. Jillian was competent in the kitchen but had no real interest in cooking, therefore she was short on supplies. In fact, while there was space enough for a large, double subzero refrigerator-freezer, Jack had put in a rather small refrigerator, just to keep Jill in chilled foods. The stovetop, likewise, was smaller than the space allowed. And as far as pots and pans and cooking utensils—a few pots, a few plates, a few spoons, spatulas and turning forks. Yet the cooking space was fantastic. She envisioned hanging pots above the workstation and stainless steel appliances custom-fit to the granite countertops that Paul had installed. She’d taken a flashlight and braved the cellar—nothing but cinder block and dirt, but with very little work and money, it could be an outstanding wine cellar. There were already three sinks, refrigerated drawers, warming drawers, room for three ovens—Jack had put in one—and another dishwasher to add to the one already there. This was a kitchen, once set up properly, fit for a small, elegant restaurant.

The only problem was, it was in Virgin River. There was really no one here who would want to eat in a small, elegant restaurant. A tragedy, really.

Kelly’s cell phone chimed and she grabbed it. She smiled as she heard, “Ciao, Bella! How are you, my love?”

“Luca! I didn’t expect to hear from you,” she said. “How is the family gathering?”

“Loud. Very loud, indeed. Five children at home, their spouses, partners, boyfriends, girlfriends, even their in-laws if they have them. After Michael’s college graduation celebration he announced his engagement. Not to be outdone, Bethany, age twenty, flashed her diamond. It appears there will be two Brazzi weddings in a year or less. That marries them all.”

“Congratulations!”

“And of course I am in the kitchen, spoiling them and showing off. Why wouldn’t I think of you and wish you were here beside me,” he said. “I do miss you, Bella.”

“I’ll see you soon enough. For now, enjoy the family! You don’t have them all together very often.”

“I wanted to tell you something, Kelly. When these weddings are done, there will be some changes in my life. And, with any luck, in your life, as well.”

Kelly smiled to herself. After a year and two weddings?

They began as acquaintances, then friends, then he took a position as her mentor, and finally he opened up about his deeper feelings. Kelly had grown so close to Luca in the past six months that it was no surprise she’d fallen for him, but in fact she was very proud of herself for managing, somehow, to hold him at arm’s length even though he claimed to desire her madly.

Luca had been married for twenty-eight years and had five children ranging in age from twenty to twenty-seven. When their friendship began to heat up, he explained that his was a family business, that he and his wife and several employees lived in the same huge home, but his marriage had been all business for many years.

“It’s still your marriage,” she had replied. “And you’re still all under the same roof.”

“Yes, sweetheart, but a roof that covers over twelve thousand square feet, a couple of warehouses, guesthouses and a few acres. And not only have Olivia and I occupied separate bedrooms for twenty years, we’ve discussed the situation with our grown children! It’s all geography and settlements!”

Ah, the idea of a fling with him had been so appealing! She was completely seduced by him! Thoroughly! There was no one more perfect for her than a gifted, internationally known chef like Luca. Every moment they spent together, every time they talked, she was his. But she kept him back. “But until you are a single man, Luca, I am not getting further involved. It’s going to be difficult enough when you’re single. Your family—no matter how adjusted to the idea that you and Olivia are mostly business partners—aren’t going to warm to me.”

“Only business partners!” he barked. “She has her own love life! Has for years!”

Indeed, he had relied on Olivia to stand as his partner for the many public appearances he made, official and unofficial. And she did so willingly, he said, but it was all for show. He proclaimed theirs a discreet understanding and explained that Olivia was sleeping with a younger man, a tennis pro or something. Kelly secretly hoped it was the truth but she was no fool. And to be fair, Luca had not needed to share all those details to win her heart. She wanted him. She so wanted him. And between them, besides cooking, many conversations both on their phones and in their kitchens, there had only been one kiss.

But oh such a kiss. She almost fainted.

Maybe she was a fool.

“I do miss you, my darling,” he said. “When are you coming back?”

“What does it matter, Luca? You can’t escape family.”

“I feel better when you’re near. Where I know where to find you.”

She laughed, then laughed at herself because as foolish as it was, it felt so good to hear that. “A couple more days,” she said. “But of course I’ll be working when I get back.”

“Of course. As will I. But we always manage, don’t we, sweetheart?”

All this romantic, seductive talk and yet, there was nothing more between them. She wondered how long it would be before she couldn’t stand it anymore and would succumb, give in, and become the other woman in his life.

She suddenly envied Jillian, even with her man poised on the brink of a departure that could be permanent. It would be so nice to have the man in her life available to her, laughing with her, loving her through the night. She would die to spend an entire night with Luca.

“Bella, I need you,” he said, his voice rough in the phone.

And it made her quiver in her panties.

Several hours later, when Jillian came in for the day, showered and returned to the kitchen, Kelly handed her a glass of wine and said, “I have something to tell you. I’ve been holding back a bit about Luca, the chef I’ve mentioned.”

“I can’t wait!” she said, grinning. Jillian took a seat at the table with her wine, but no more had she done so than she heard the sound of a vehicle pulling into the drive along the house. It was clearly a truck and she frowned. “UPS? I’m not expecting anything.” She went to the door and had reached for the knob just as the sound of Jack Sheridan’s boots striking the porch floor could be heard. She pulled open the door. “Jack? What are you doing here?”

“Can I come in, Jillian? I have to talk to you right away. I’ve had an offer on the house.”

“Of course,” she said. “I’m afraid I only have nonalcoholic beer or wine to offer—”

“Nothing for me, thanks. I left Denny to help out with the dinner crowd and I told him I’d get right back. Can we sit down?”

Jill went to her place where the glass of wine waited and Jack sat down opposite. “The couple from the Bay Area liked the house.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket. “The top number is the appraisal figure, the second number is their offer.” He took a breath and looked pained. “You know how I feel, Jill. I like having you here and I like what you’re doing. I just want to say that.” He slid the paper across the table toward her.

She stared at it for a second before she unfolded it. The top number was $1,245,000.00. Their offer, the second number, was $1,300,000.00.

She lifted her eyes to Jack’s face. “They really want it, don’t they?”

He gave a nod. “According to the Realtor, they’ve been looking for about a year. This house seems to meet their requirements, but it’s the land that tilts the price. Ten acres is a nice spread for a B and B. They’d have room for horses or whatever for guests. If there’s any thinking to do, you should do it in the next day or two.”

“Right,” she said. She stared at the small paper and felt the threat of tears gather. She looked over her shoulder at her garden. She took in the flood of lilacs and hydrangea bordering the backyard.

“Just give me a call, Jill,” he said, standing.

“Sure,” she said. She had bought one piece of property in her entire life—the town house. She paid three hundred thousand.

“I’m pretty surprised by the appraisal, but I shouldn’t be. If times were better, it would’ve been even higher.”

“I know,” she said. She looked up from the paper and smiled weakly. “They must be pretty well fixed, this couple from the Bay Area.”

“They’re older than you, and they retired early. They’re in their fifties, old enough to have amassed some money, still young enough to be able to run the place for a good while.”

And she thought, But I’m thirty-two. If this works out, I’ll be running the place for a long, long time. If it doesn’t work out, I’d have to sell. Maybe in a few years the economy will be better and it would go for more. Or maybe the economy will be worse, interest rates even higher and it’ll be a huge loss.

“Just let me know,” he said.

“Thanks, Jack. Nice of you to drive out here.”

He went to the door.

The problem was, she had had a number in her head—just over a million. She’d gotten used to that number and was seeing it as a hundred thousand an acre with a free house on the land. The thought of herself going back to the corporate world in panty hose and shiny black pumps made her grimace. But the thing that shifted her mind very quickly was the thought of wanting to keep Colin’s easels standing in the sunroom, ready, for whenever he might come back.

“Kelly! Get me a pen!” She jumped up and ran to the back door. She opened it and yelled, “Jack! Jack, come back here!”

She grabbed the pen out of Kelly’s hand and sat back down, scribbling on the paper. She’d refolded it by the time Jack was standing in the kitchen again. She passed it to him.

He was slow to open it and when he did, his eyes rounded in pure shock. He looked at the paper, at Jillian’s eyes, back at the paper.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, giving a nod.

“This is quite a big move, Jillian. Have you thought about this? Carefully?”

“That’s my sister,” Kelly said, though she didn’t know the financial details. “She likes to charge into things. Impetuous. Impulsive. She moves on things real fast.”

And suddenly Jillian let go a laugh, a big, belly laugh. She’d just realized a few things—important things.

“Sure you can do this?” Jack asked.

“Yes, Jack. I’ll qualify. But this is confidential information, right?”

“Right. Of course. Well, I guess you’ve made a decision about that city job,” he observed.

She laughed. “I guess I have.”

Written on the page was: $1,500,000.00.

“This might be a little crazy,” Jack said. “Shouldn’t you inch up to this number? I mean, give them a chance to push you up to this number?”

“I think it makes sense to be perfectly clear. I’m not screwing around. I’m serious. I’d prefer not to be challenged by a counteroffer.”

He whistled. He stuck out his hand to shake. “Good luck with this. I’ll let you know what the response is.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

He slipped that folded piece of paper into his shirt pocket and left. By the time the sound of the departing truck motor was fading, Kelly was standing behind a kitchen chair across the table from Jillian, holding her own glass of wine.

“Big business?” Kelly asked. “Did you bet it all?”

“Not all, but a nice share. You know what I just realized? When I act on my gut instinct, I do pretty well. I’m seldom wrong. Going with Harry right out of college, many rapid-fire PR decisions, right up to falling for Colin in the space of a few days… It’s when I don’t act fairly quickly, when something I can’t quite identify is cautioning me, that’s when something is wrong. That happened with Kurt—it took me months to give in to him! Months! Somewhere in my gut I knew there was something wrong, I just didn’t know what.

“Once I made up my mind about the garden, I knew right away I wanted to expand and do it on a grand scale, and I knew I wanted to do it here. I don’t want a bidding war on the house and land,” Jill said. “I’d be very surprised if I didn’t just win. I topped the other potential buyer’s offer by a couple of hundred grand.”

Kelly went pale; she sank weakly into the chair. She knew her sister had made lots of money at BSS, but lots to Kelly was far, far less than that! “Are you kidding me?” she asked in a whisper.

“Nope, that’s a fact.” She held up her wineglass for a toast. “Now. What were you going to tell me about Luca?”

“Hmm? Oh,” Kelly said. “Nothing. Nothing. You’ll like him, I’m sure of it.”

“I can’t imagine not liking someone you care about.”