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Aubrey held out her hand, and Kate shook it firmly. “I was afraid you’d change your mind.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because some people would look at my offer and see strings attached. Creative types don’t usually like to take input from those not in the same field.”
“Do you plan on giving your input, Mrs. Walker?”
“Let’s just say I want to see what you’ve got planned. Who knows? I might have suggestions that will intrigue you.” Before Aubrey could ask what they were, she added, “And please, call me Kate.”
“All right.”
“Now, let’s go have some refreshments on the terrace and talk about your project.”
Aubrey followed Kate into the house, trying not to gape like an overwhelmed schoolgirl.
Apparently she wasn’t very good at hiding her admiration because Kate turned to her and grinned. “It’s audacious, isn’t it? My husband had it built years before we met. I thought about moving, maybe donating it for a children’s home or a hospital, but leaving behind all the memories isn’t something I’m ready to do yet.”
Kate led her to a small side terrace, which had a lovely view of the vibrant, autumn-colored trees that surrounded the estate. A table was already set with a scrumptious-looking English tea. “My late husband was British. This is one of the traditions he brought with him that I have thoroughly embraced.” She paused in the act of pulling out a chair. “Would you like to freshen up before we sit down?”
“If you don’t mind.”
Pointing her to a door, Kate said, “Down the hallway, third door on the right. I’ll pour the tea. How do you like yours?”
“Two sugars, no cream.”
Aubrey quickly washed her hands and freshened her makeup. Kate Walker was nothing like she’d expected, and the optimism she’d lost earlier was now back in full force. Just in the brief few moments they’d had together she already knew she liked this woman. Could she work with her? That was the hope.
She returned to the terrace to see Kate sitting at the table, sipping her tea, a faraway expression on her face.
“Everything okay?”
Kate gave her a wistful smile. “I get melancholy sometimes when I sit down to a full English tea.”
“How long has your husband been gone?”
“He passed only a few years ago, but he was gone before that.”
“Alzheimer’s is a dreadful, hideous disease.”
“You sound as if you have personal experience with it.”
“My aunt Jenny suffered from a form of dementia before she died.”
“Ah, yes. Syd’s wife.”
“You know my uncle?”
“By reputation only. He has an impressive track record of megahits. I’m surprised he hasn’t offered to fund your project.”
“Oh, he has, but I prefer to keep my personal life and my business life separate.”
“That’s understandable. It can make for uncomfortable Thanksgivings, can’t it?”
It had been years since her family had enjoyed a traditional Thanksgiving dinner. After Aubrey’s father had died, her mother had no longer wanted to do anything remotely traditional. Elizabeth Starr now spent most of her holidays in Italy with an old school friend.
Uncle Syd spent his holidays with friends, and Becca was always flitting somewhere around the world. In the last few years, holidays had become just regular days for Aubrey.
When she didn’t respond to Kate’s remark, they went on to talk about other things. She learned that Kate was an avid pilot and had her own plane.