It embarrassed her to realize her dismay at the scant arrangement of cold cereal and equally cold toast must have shown, for Mrs. Beaumont said in her well-bred voice, "I do apologize for the inadequate selection, but I'm afraid Ernestine, our cook, is quite overcome and has taken to her bed." Her bottom lip quivered. "David is her favorite, you know."

"Have you heard anything this morning?"

"Not a word. And if anything should happen to my darling David, I simply don't know what I'll do."

Zach shifted in his seat. The uncharacteristic abruptness of his movement drew Lily's attention, and a thrill of alarm shot through her. For although he didn't speak and he appeared coolly contained, with the same flash of telepathy that had told her last night how worried he was about Glynnis, she knew this morning that he was dangerously on edge. No one else seemed to notice anything amiss in his manner, but it couldn't have been clearer to her if he'd suddenly begun waving semaphores over his head. The tomato-red Henley he wore seemed appropriate, for as far as she was concerned he was one great big warning flag.

His agitation appeared to be linked to Mrs. Beaumont, so partly to divert the woman from doing whatever it was that was putting his back up, and partly because Lily couldn't abide one more day eating second-rate food, she left the sideboard to approach the older woman.

'"I'm sorry," she said. "You must think I'm terribly rude. It's just that I adore food, and we've been eating such catch-as-catch-can meals since leaving California that I was looking forward to a real breakfast. But I have a suggestion that might suit everyone's needs. I love to cook, and I'd be happy to fill in until Ernestine is feeling more herself."

The offer was clearly tempting, but Mrs. Beaumont said politely, "Oh, no. You're our guest. We could never ask you to slave in the kitchen."

Lily laughed. "You didn't ask, and to me it isn't slaving. Zach and I showed up on your doorstep unannounced, and you've been gracious enough to offer us lodging. So, please. Allow me to repay you, if only a little, by doing this in return."

Richard, who had been quietly sipping coffee across the table, tossed his shiny brown hair out of his eyes and reached over to give the older woman's hand a squeeze. "It's a generous offer, Aunt Maureen. Take her up on it."

Mrs. Beaumont looked from him to Lily. "Well, if you're sure you wouldn't mind…"

"I truly wouldn't. In fact I'd enjoy it, and if someone will simply point me in the direction of the kitchen, I'll go put together a nice hot breakfast. Everyone's under a great deal of stress. Keeping fueled is an essential pan of dealing with it"

Jessica set her half-eaten slice of toast on her plate. "I'll show you."

As she rose from the table, Zach leaned back in his chair and regarded Lily with raised eyebrows. "I know you can cook," he said as his gaze ran over her, pausing a moment on the multistrand necklace of glitter crystals that spilled across her breasts. "But there's a difference between cooking for one or two people, and a group this size. Are you sure you're up to this?"

Cooking for seven ? Not even that, if Cassidy and Christopher didn't eat breakfast. She managed not to roll her eyes. "Oh, I think I can muddle through somehow."

As she followed Jessica down a short hallway off the foyer, she heard the other woman murmur wonderingly to herself, "A 'group this size'?"

She laughed. "I know," she agreed. "Why is it men so often think that because we wear lipstick and have parts that jiggle, our competency must be in inverse proportion? Oh!" she breathed as she stepped into the kitchen. "This is fabulous ." It was a state-of-the-art work space, her personal idea of heaven.

"At least you have jiggly parts," Jessica said under her breath. "I should be so lucky. As for lipstick…"

Her soft voice pulled Lily away from an ecstatic inspection of the Viking range, and she really looked at the other woman for the first time. "You should wear it," she said decisively, after giving her a thorough inspection. "Most women would kill for bee-stung lips like yours. In fact, I've got a lipstick I bet would be perfect for you. It's a shade called Pink Smooch that I fell in love with in the store, but when I got it home I discovered it was all wrong for my coloring. I'll dig it out for you after I get breakfast on the table."

Jessica gave her such a helpless look that Lily couldn't help but smile. "I'm guessing you don't share my passion for makeup." She splayed her fingers across her chest. "'Be still my heart. I find that completely shocking."

"According to my sister, it's nothing short of heresy'"

Lily laughed. "At the very least."

"Yes, well, not all of us are slaves to fashion."

"Oh, honey, of course we are. You obviously just haven't met the right consultant yet." Until now . There was nothing more frustrating to Lily than untapped potential, and seeing Jessica's made her itch to do a complete makeover.

Not only was the other woman's face devoid of makeup, her medium-brown hair was much too long and bushy for her narrow face, overwhelming its delicate bone structure. Lily didn't need labels to recognize quality clothing when she saw it, and she could tell at a glance that Jessica's sweater was an expensive one. But the color was all wrong for the brunette, muddying her fair complexion, and it was too bulky for her slender frame. Her jeans were fine, but those shoes were a nightmare. They looked like a potato farmer's brogues.

It wasn't up to her to barge in and start rearranging anyone's life, however, so she simply smiled and turned back to the marvelous kitchen she'd been given permission to play in. But wiggling her painted toes appreciatively in her own Cuban-heeled, open-toed, retro pumps, she thought dryly. So I won't barge. I can hold off for a day .

She was immersed in deep admiration for all the wonderful gadgets and the well-stocked pantry when Jessica said uncertainly, '"Well, you'd probably like me to get out of your way."

Lily swung around. "Oh, no; don't go. I could use your help familiarizing myself with where everything is. That is—oh, dear, I'm being presumptuous, supposing you don't have anything better to do, or that you ordinarily spend a minute longer in a kitchen than you have to, aren't I? I'm sorry. Am I keeping you?"

Jessica laughed, and it was a surprisingly bawdy sound, as if someone had just told her a deliciously dirty joke. "No, you're not keeping me from anything more pressing than a quilt I'm working on, and as my family would be the first to tell you, that's merely a hobby. As for spending time in the kitchen, considering I'm the one responsible for that abysmal offering in the dining room this morning, I leave it to you to determine if I should be allowed in one."

Lily grinned, then headed for the refrigerator to see what she had to work with. "I'm going to take a wild leap here and assume you're not as crazy about cooking as I am."

"As a matter of fact, I have a feeling I might actually enjoy it, but I haven't had much opportunity to find out."

"Wait, don't tell me. Would that be because you've always had a cook to do for you?"

"Something like that."

"Well, poor little rich girl. You're not expecting a lot of sympathy from me, I trust." It wasn't until the words left her mouth that Lily realized what she'd said. With a jolt, it occurred to her that she felt nearly as comfortable with the other woman as she did with her friend Mimi in Laguna, which explained why she hadn't even hesitated to give her a bad time.

To her relief, Jessica seemed to feel the same way.

"Actually," she said, "I think you should feel very sorry for me. You have no idea what a sad tale I have to tell."

"Yeah?" Lily started pulling ingredients out of the fridge, giving Jessica a wry look as she passed the items to the other woman to set on the counter. She twirled one hand like royalty granting an audience. "So spill."

"Richard, Cassidy, and I are—are you prepared for this?—the 'poor' relations in the Beaumont clan."

Lily gave a mock gasp.

Jessica flashed a smile that transformed her face from plain to almost pretty. "I know. Shocking, isn't it? Mama was one of those women for whom appearance is everything, so of course we had a cook, as did everyone in our set. The difference was, while we merely appeared to be wealthy, they actually were. If there had been any real money in our part of the family, I might have been allowed in the kitchen. But only genuinely rich girls can afford to behave as if they don't have a bean to their names. What we had," she said with a shrug, "was connections." Then, with the slightest hint of bitterness, she added to herself, "Yes indeed. We certainly do have those all important connections."

Lily didn't know her well enough to ask what that was all about, so she merely said lightly, "Well, I don't have a connection to my name outside the restaurant industry. But stick with me, kid, and I can at least teach you to cook."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Absolutely."

Jessica came to stand by her side. "What are you going to make?"

"Just something very basic this morning, since we're a little pressed for time. We'll do scrambled egg-stuffed breakfast pitas and a cantaloupe-blueberry salad. Will your husband and sister be joining us?"

"I… imagine."

"I wasn't sure if they'd already left for work."

"Oh, no, the office for B Networks is upstairs in the east wing."

"Okay, then, we'll plan on seven." She indicated the eggs, mushrooms, red pepper, onion, and cheese assembled on the counter. "You see anything here that anyone can't eat?"