healthy-looking, not the pasty look of an office-dwelling architect. “My reputation as high-class host is sealed, thanks to you.” With a thumbs-up, he disappeared again into the din in the main room.
“That was thoughtful,” Lucy commented. “It was as if he read our minds.”
“Not mine.” Marlo tapped a finger to her temple. “There’s nothing up here to read.”
“Reading your mind is like trying to read a newspaper while riding a Tilt-a-Whirl,” Lucy said cheerfully. “There’s too much happening at once to make any sense of it.”
Marlo wasn’t sure she liked the analogy, even if it was apt, but she didn’t have time to debate the statement. She and Lucy needed to make the serving trays and platters discreetly disappear in the next few minutes.
By eleven, the kitchen was spotless and most of the guests had taken their leave, except for Sabrina the kittenish blonde attached to Jake by Super Glue. Marlo had watched them all evening, as she moved in and out of the main rooms refilling trays and removing dishes. There was something so engaging about Jake Hammond that she couldn’t tear her eyes from him.
As if thinking of them actually conjured them up, they walked into the kitchen looking like a pair of dolls, Soiree Sabrina and her boyfriend, Tuxedo Jake.
“I’ve called you a cab,” Hammond was telling Sabrina as they entered.
She pouted. “I’m not done partying yet, darling.”
“Then you’ll have to find someone else,” Hammond advised her pleasantly, his charm not slipping for an instant. “I’m out of steam.”
“But you promised—” Her words were cut short by the sharp blast of a horn.
“Cab’s here. Come on, sweets, I’ll tuck you in and pay the fare.” Smoothly, Hammond navigated his reluctant package toward the door.
Chivalrous. Check.
Only moments after they’d left, the door swung open again and the party’s other host, Randall Hammond, strode into the room. The senior Hammond was shorter than his son by two or three inches, strong-looking but thin and sinewy, like, Marlo mused, a piece of human beef jerky. There was a hardness about the man, an inflexible, unbending quality, totally unlike that of his son. As much as Marlo had liked Jake upon first meeting him, she felt conversely wary of his father.
But perhaps she’d judged too quickly, since the first words out of his mouth were a compliment. “Well done. My guests appreciated your hard work.” His pale eyes darted around the room. “Is Jake…”
“He’s outside. He sent for a cab and…”
“He’s sending Sabrina home in a cab? Odd. He always drives her home.” The older Hammond appeared puzzled. “Those two usually close down every party. What a pair they make.” He looked both pleased and paternal at the notion.
Another man of Randall’s age strolled through the kitchen door. He held the hand of a child with bright eyes, a curious expression on her perfectly oval face and a mass of blond curls cascading down her back.
Marlo couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a child so beautiful.
“It’s time to get you home to bed, Cammi.”
“Not so soon, Grandpa. I don’t have school tomorrow.” She released her grandfather’s hand and skipped to the glass-fronted refrigerator and pressed her nose against the glass. “I’ve never been in this part of the house before. It’s fun.”
“Your grandmother never uses that adjective to describe her kitchen, I’m afraid,” the child’s grandfather said, with a chuckle. “I’m not sure that she’s even visited her kitchen lately, except for the occasional glass of water or to harass a caterer or two.”
“Oh, Grandpa!” Cammi chided. “I’m telling.”
“Don’t you dare, little miss.” He leaned down to pick her up and the child wrapped her arms around his neck. “Your grandmother will insist on coming along on our dates if she thinks we’re having too much fun. Besides, if your aunt Sabrina has already left, you know we’ve certainly overstayed our welcome!”
The child giggled and buried her nose in her grandfather’s collar. The little girl already possessed some of Sabrina’s stunning good looks. It must be nice to be part of such a genetically blessed clan, Marlo mused.
“Ladies,” Randall Hammond said, “this is my friend, Alfred Dorchester, and his beautiful granddaughter Cammi.”
Alfred smiled pleasantly and tipped his head. “Nice to meet you.” Cammi, still smarting from her grandfather’s refusal to stay any later, remembered her manners and mumbled, “Hello.”
Alfred’s gaze found that of the older Hammond. “Randall, I just came to tell you that Cammi and I are leaving. I’ll stop by the stables tomorrow.”
“Me, too?” Cammi put the palms of her hands on her grandfather’s cheeks. “Can I come, too?” Seeing her grandfather hesitate, she turned to the elder Hammond. “Can I?”
Randall Hammond fondly stroked one of the child’s long, tight curls with his forefinger. “If you do, you can see our new colts,” he offered. It was clear that both men adored this beautiful child.
“Unless your mother doesn’t want you to be a tomboy tomorrow.”
Cammi wrinkled her nose. “Bor—ring.”
Laughing, the men exited the kitchen. Only the little girl, looking back over her grandfather’s shoulder, waved an acknowledging goodbye to Marlo and Lucy.
Jake returned immediately to the kitchen after tucking Sabrina into a cab, his interest piqued by the long-legged, dark-haired, blue-eyed beauty in the kitchen. It wasn’t often that someone so appealing or charismatic showed up in his life. He was accustomed to beautiful and sophisticated women, but this one displayed a good-natured charm that captivated him.
“Your father and his friend were just in here looking for you,” the lovely caterer informed him, as she expertly packed used glasses in carrying containers.
“Alfred? Did he have a little girl in tow? Alfred dotes on that grandchild of his, as I’m sure you noticed. He would do anything for her. The Dorchesters know how to pamper their women.” Sometimes a little too much. Sabrina, who was accustomed to having her own way, had not appreciated being sent home.
He straddled one of the stools at the counter much as he might swing his leg over the back of a horse, in no hurry to leave the kitchen. “My father and Alfred have been close friends for years. Since Dad doesn’t have any grandchildren of his own, he’s grand-parenting vicariously through Alfred.”
“No grandchildren?” Marlo sounded surprised. He didn’t blame her. A house this size should have a covey of them. He’d thought it many times himself, in fact. But he needed a wife for that, and so far he’d effectively eluded matrimony, despite everyone’s hopes to the contrary.
“I’m an only child,” Jake assured her. “I can guarantee it.” He enjoyed seeing a pink flush spread across those high, finely shaped cheekbones, but didn’t give her time to be embarrassed. “Is there
