CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

Mr. Stevens regarded Claire with a very bright smile. "Come in," he urged, standing up to warmly pull her into a hug.

Claire strode over, relenting to his wish. "Hi, Mr. Stevens. I hope you're doing fine." She was in his arms, and he seemed pleased to have her over.

"I am. But I told you to call me—"

"Grandfather!" Claire finished for him, flushing. They both laughed. "I better practice more often," she teased, trying hard to refrain herself from looking at Ryan.

"Yes, silly girl," Mr. Stevens remarked. "Thank you for coming tonight. I know you don't have any obligation toward this old fella but you've come anyway; and you look beautiful." He smiled at her.

"No, it's nothing. In fact I'm very grateful for the invitation . . . And for the compliment, too," Claire said calmly, and that's when her gaze shifted toward the other audience in the living room.

She received a wriggle of fingers and a plastic smile from Doris, who was seated cross-legged on the couch, holding a glass of red wine