Rising to her feet, Anne inspected the stack of boxes. “Let’s start with your kitchen boxes.”
I’d forgotten that my sister was far more organized than I was.
“By the way, I think I sort of know your neighbor,” Anne said.
“How?”
“I knew the name Winchester rang a bell. From the Winchesters behind the Ballroom Galas. I googled her, and she’s one those Winchesters.”
I knew Anne received invitations for each one of the events. They were quite the charity and did excellent work.
“Did you go to any?” I asked.
“No, but I send a check with my RSVP every time. They’re good people, the Winchesters. At least, that’s what I hear. They put all that money they raise to great use.”
“That’s good to know. When’s the next event?”
Anne grinned. “Why, eager to see your neighbor in an evening gown?”
“Very cute, sis. No—well, maybe, but I’d like to make a donation.”
And yeah, I’d like to see Skye wearing one of those extravagant dresses... and then have the privilege of taking it off.
“Well, not until September. They’re taking a break in the summer.”
We talked about some other things but mainly focused on the boxes after that.
“I was thinking of going for a week to visit Mom, Dad, and Pops. Lindsay is psyched. What do you think, want to come? The south of France would do you good.”
I shook my head. “Just took over here, and I don’t think it would be a good idea to take time off already. I’m just getting into it. And I think the employees are just getting used to me.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“By the way, doesn’t this place remind you of the old house Grandpa had in France?”
“Hmm... the limestone looks familiar. God, remember how much fun we had? And that swing in the backyard, I loved it so much.”
“We had a lot of fun.”
Anne tilted her head, a smile playing on her lips. “I wonder what the team would say if they knew you’re such a sentimental guy. It would undermine your reputation of being a hard-ass, right?”
“I think my reputation’s safe,” I replied, stone-faced.
She laughed. “Oh, Rob. Well, your style works for you, so there is nothing else to say.”
***
The next morning, I saw Skye sorting through her mail on her way back to her house while I was having breakfast. I walked out right away, joining her.
“Hi,” I said.
“Good morning.”
Something was off. Her tone was cold.
“Skye, what’s wrong?”
“Did your guests have a good time?”