Crispin slipped over to Portia and Calliope, lowering his voice, "What''s going on? How did you two end up in here?"


    "Rx, Crispin. Everyone here is a friend of Callie''s,” Portia said, beaming. "And now they''re my friends, too!"


    "Seriously?" Crispin stared at her in disbelief.


    Just then, a woman beside them clinked her ss with Portia''s. “Portia, how about a duet?"


    Crispin''s eyes went wide. That was the legendary, notoriously hard-to-please


    actress—the one with the impossible reputation!


    And here she was, inviting Portia to sing with her?


    “One sec!” Portiaughed. “Let me talk to my brother first, okay?"


    "Sure, I''ll wait!" the actress called back.


    Crispin was stunned. They looked like long-lost friends.


    That actress wasn''t just famously difficult-her background was as powerful as it was mysterious, with whispers of military ties.


    People in business, like them, usually had zero chance of getting in her orbit. But Portia seemed to have charmed her effortlessly.


    "Crispin, Nancy''s open to working with you," Calliope said quietly. "Go have a private chat with her. If things work out, great. If not, let''s keep it amicable."


    "Mr. Sutton, right?" Nancy smiled, her tone warm. "How about we step outside? My agent''s waiting."


    "Um...now?" Crispin was still reeling.


    His family had chased a partnership with Nancy for ages-her image was perfect for their brand—but they''d never even gotten through the door.


    Yet Portia, with Calliope''s help, had somehow pulled it off.


    He nced around and immediately saw it: everyone here seemed to orbit Calliope, treating her with


    genuine respect-a natural-boet


    leader even at her age. He was astonished, butposed himself quickly.  s?novels


    He nodded to Nancy and followed her out.


    The celebration carried on. Portia dove headfirst into the fun-singing,ughing, dancing with the others.


    Calliope caught up with old acquaintances, her presence easy and assured.


    By the end of the night, Portia was sprawled across the table, dead to the world from too much champagne.


    Calliope sighed, said her farewells, and gently helped Portia back to their cabin. She was just settling Portia into bed when a knock came at the door.


    Calliope opened it to find waiter standing there. "Ms. Jewell, you''ve been invited to join someone for a drink at the bar."


    Her eyebrow arched. "Who?"


    "A gentleman," the staff member answered. "He didn''t give a name just said there was something important he needed to discuss with you."


    “A gentleman?” Calliope echoed, thoughtful. Could it be Robert?


    "What does he look like?" she asked.


    "Very tall—about six feet, handsome, sses..." The waiter paused, trying to remember the details.


    Calliope was taken aback. That didn''t sound like Robert. So who was it?


    "I understand," she said, thanking the


    ine?


    staffer and dismissing him. She grabbed her phone, patising for just


    a second. Whoever it was she''d face them head-on.


    Even if it did turn out to be Robert and another one of his schemes, she needed to see it for herself.


    Otherwise, given Lisette''s


    personality,


    he''d never hear the end


    of it.