Quentin’s expression had relaxed.
She couldn’t help thinking it was easy being Francie. There was no need to worry about empathy or propriety or even good manners. You just led with your emotions and lived in the moment.
“Eggs Benedict it is,” he said. He gestured to the nursery doorway.
Kate was disappointed to leave Annabelle. But in the short term, getting into Quentin’s good graces was the most important thing. If she played her cards right, she’d have time to see Annabelle again later.
“You have a really gorgeous house,” she told him as they walked down the hallway. She ran her fingertips along the white panel molding.
“I bought it from Deke Hamilton,” he said.
“The movie star?” She put what she hoped was the right amount of awe and admiration into the question.
“He had it custom built,” said Quentin. “Cost ten million, but I got it for nine.”
“Nice.”
“The divorce.”
Kate wished she could remember something about Deke Hamilton’s love life, but she couldn’t.
“You always lose money on a divorce,” she said.
“True that,” said Quentin. “I’ll sure never fall for it.”
“Marriage?” she guessed.
“Marriage, common-law, palimony. Whatever.”
It occurred to her that was probably why Francie and Annabelle had lived in the gatehouse. Quentin didn’t want to risk a lawsuit. She couldn’t help but think he had to have plenty of money to spare.
As they descended the stairs, she pointed to a huge, dramatic crystal chandelier. “Swarovski?” she asked, dredging up the only famous name she knew.
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