Preston Keaton hummed, the corners of his lips lifting in a gentle arc. He good-naturedly pushed the cup away. "I'm not drinking."
Anyone could see the doting affection in the gesture. Mr. Keaton was usually understated, but this time felt different, sparking speculation among the onlookers.
Evelyn Grant turned her head, tilting it up slightly, and her eyes inadvertently met River Walsh's.
She offered a subconscious, polite smile, then naturally averted her gaze and went back to her meal.
During dinner, Dylan Grant called. She stepped outside to find a quiet place to talk. When she turned back, River Walsh was there, leaning against the wall. His dark gray suit accentuated his elegant, handsome features and refined demeanor.
"Was that Dylan Grant who called?"
"Yes. He was asking when I'm coming home."
Evelyn Grant maintained a comfortable distance from him. "I didn't expect to see you in Veridia."
