Serena
I was halfway through answering an email when there was a knock on my door. I didn't bother looking up. "Come in," I said, still typing.
Damien stepped in, already dressed like he had somewhere to be. He wore white shirt rolled at the sleeves, black slacks, and that quiet confidence that always filled a room before he even said a word.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching me.
"We're visiting the Caldwells tomorrow," he said.
That got my attention. I looked up. "Caldwells?"
"They're one of the families on the list," he replied, stepping closer. "We're going there to invite them personally. It's proper courtesy, apparently."
I frowned. "You mean the list Marjorie gave us? I thought those visits were next week."
He shrugged. "Change of plans. They'll be leaving town soon. My father wants it done before they travel."
"Of course he does," I muttered, closing my laptop. "How long will it take?"
