“A quiet week at a spa would do your nerves a world of good.”

I stepped back until her fingers slid off my sleeve.

“My nerves are fine,” I told her.

“That’s not what Cole told his mother last night,” Brooke said.

She picked up her clipboard, tapped its top edge twice on the marble and walked out toward the terrace.

The head chef looked down at his cutting board and silently sliced off a thick piece of butter.

“Should I keep the original dinner menu, Mrs.