even consider consuming alcohol.â âFortunately, I have no aspirations in that direction,â Fiona assured dryly. âAnd what does that song say? Itâs five oâclock somewhere?â She gestured. âCome with me.â Bobbie pushed to her feet and followed her friend out of the sunroom. She tightened the band holding her hair on thetop of her head and tried not to look out the windows for some sign of Gabeâs truck as they walked through the house. When she did sneak a peek, all she saw was the gardening crew working on the lush landscape and the catering truck, there to set up the outdoor tent that would house the dance floor for the party tomorrow night that Fiona didnât even want. When they reached Fionaâs office, which overlooked the half-acre sweep of lawn leading to the carriage house, Fiona waved at the massive leather wing chairs angled in front of the fireplace. âSit.â She moved to the ornate cabinet standing against the wall. Bobbie sat, watching her elderly friend pull open the cabinet to reveal an extremely well-stocked bar. Fiona had once told her that she hadnât changed a single thing in the office after her husband had died. It was the only room she had left untouched in the entire house, because it felt like he was still with her whenever she worked in there. âI meant to thank you again for helping out at the office yesterday. It took months to get an appointment with the community affairs rep from Cragmin, and Iâd have hated to reschedule.â Bobbie shrugged, though she still was a little surprised that Fiona had managed to double-book her schedule the way she had. Sheâd been across town making another funding request when the manufacturing companyâs community affairs manager had shown up at Goldenâs office and Fiona had called Bobbie in a rush to fill in for her. âIâm always willing. You know that, though Iâm a poor substitute for you.â Fiona waved the cocktail shaker as she pulled it off the shelf. âYou did wonderfully well, as I knew you would. I got an email last night from the CEO that we were on the short list for the grant.â She added ice from a small, cleverly hidden freezer to the shaker. âBut enough of that. How are your mother and sisters?â âAll fine. Iâve been helping Tommi at the bistro this past week. One of her servers has been on vacation.â Fiona was nodding as she added a shot of this and a dash of that. âI wish my daughter-in-law would have thought to ask your sister to cater this thing tomorrow.â She capped the shaker and shook it so vigorously that Bobbie wondered if she was mentally wringing Astrid Gannonâs neck. âThen at least the food would have been wonderful.â âIâm sure the food will be fine,â Bobbie soothed. âAnd I think Tommi has enough on her plate with the bistro being as busy as it is.â Sheâd thought her sister had seemed particularly stressed the past week, but of course, Tommi had simply dismissed the very idea when Bobbie had tried to broach the subject. And since Bobbie hadnât wanted to answer Tommiâs questions about Gabeâs presence at the bistro the other night either, sheâd kept most of her thoughts to herself. âYouâve said before that your daughter-in-law hosts some magnificent parties.â âTrust you to remember that,â Fiona muttered darkly. She poured the pale yellow contents of the shaker into two martini glasses and handed one to Bobbie. âCheers.â Bobbie lifted her glass in salute and sipped gingerly, well used to Fionaâs less-than-delicate hand when it came to mixing a cocktail. Predictably, the drink was light on lemon and heavy on vodka. âI think itâs nice that your family wants to celebrate your birthday with you.â Fiona waved her hand. âIt would be nice if it were just family and a few