The Cordell mansion had enough staff that Miles rarely saw the same person twice in one evening.
By the time he and Christy reached the dining room, someone had already taken his jacket, another had replaced the drink he'd barely touched in the sitting room, and a third was pulling out Christy's chair before she reached it. The mahogany table could have seated twenty. Tonight there were only three places set, with Mr. Cordell at the head.
Miles took his usual seat across from Christy and waited while the first course was served. He had been coming here often enough that the scale of the place no longer distracted him, but he never stopped paying attention to how it worked. Cordell ran his home much like his companies, quietly and efficiently, with everyone knowing where they belonged.
"Tell me about Europe," Cordell said as soon as the servants stepped back. "I hear they're still dragging their feet."
