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driveway made Claudia straighten and look over the balcony. As if her thoughts had conjured the woman, Paige Sorensen stepped out of a Mercedes. Not the vehicle Bert Falkenberg had driven the day before. Paige’s version had a custom paint job that made it the same blue as her eyes.
    Claudia wiped her hands on the dish towel tucked into her waistband and waited as Paige exited the car alone. No little dog or Bert Falkenberg today.
    Despite the weather, her long legs were bare, tanned, and muscular in khaki shorts and backless high-heeled sandals. In a green silk camp shirt, her long hair drawn back in a ponytail, she looked ready for Club Med.
    Moving with the grace of a dancer, Paige came up the flagstone path to the house and waved at Claudia. “Hi there, Ms. Rose—do you have a few minutes?”
    Claudia hesitated. She didn’t welcome clients who dropped in unannounced, and she felt at a disadvantage in her gardening clothes and no makeup. Still, she was curious to see which version of Paige had come to visit—the innocent girl, the bereaved widow, or the self-possessed charmer.
    “I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, sounding less than welcoming but not refusing the visit outright.
    Ignoring the hint, Paige started up the staircase. “I was hoping for a chance to talk to you privately.”
    “How about making an appointment?”
    “I promise not to stay long. Please? ”
    Claudia looked back at her for a moment; then curiosity got the better of her. “Wait a second. I’ll come around and unlock the door.” She went inside and wiped her feet on the mat, giving herself a disapproving glance in the wall mirror beside the front door.
    This is what happens when you don’t get dressed for the day. Just because you work at home . . . She firmly shut off her mother’s voice and mustered up a smile. “Can I get you some coffee?”
    “I’d love some,” Paige said, following Claudia into the kitchen. She slid onto a chair at the breakfast table while Claudia washed her hands at the sink. “I’m sorry for dropping in like this.”
    Claudia busied herself filling the Mr. Coffee with water as Paige plowed on. “I shouldn’t have let Bert come with me yesterday. Honestly, he can be downright annoying. I know he’s just trying to protect me, but he thinks I don’t know how to take care of myself.”
    Claudia took a container of Folgers from the freezer and measured coffee into the filter, thinking that it seemed an odd opening to the conversation.
    “Protect you from what?” she asked, watching the amber liquid begin to drip into the carafe, perfuming the air with the smell of fresh coffee.
    “My stepchildren.” Paige gave a tight little laugh. “Isn’t it dumb to call them that? They’re all older than me. Anyway, they hate me. Bert says they’ll fight to the death to get the estate away from me.”
    Moving through the routine of getting out mugs and spoons, Claudia wondered, not for the first time, about the role Bert Falkenberg played in Paige’s life. Yesterday there had been moments when she’d caught him looking at Paige with desire in his eyes that guaranteed either he was more than just a business adviser, or he hoped to be.
    She got the sugar bowl from the pantry and set it on the table. “It sounds like an awkward situation for everyone. What do you take in your coffee?”
    “Nonfat milk.”
    “Is nonfat half-and-half okay?”
    Paige raised a perfectly penciled brow. “Nonfat half-and-half ? You’re kidding, right?”
    “Nope. Made for those of us who like the taste of cream but can’t afford the calories.” Claudia opened the refrigerator and showed her the carton. “I sound like a TV commercial, don’t I?”
    Paige smiled. “I’ll take some. Calories are not my friend, either.”
    “It must take a lot of work to stay in as good a shape as you look.”
    Paige pantomimed lifting weights. “I work out every morning. I have to stay alert to handle the girls.”
    “Speaking of the