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things I seek to know more about is your culture. I believe Marcel was attempting to share some of that with us before his unfortunate accident.”
    “Yes, he was,” I interjected before any of the visitors could launch into another speech. “I guarantee you will all learn much about the foods we prepare and how we plan for important events. I’m hoping that in doing so, you are encouraged to share with us some of your tricks of the trade.” I took a breath, watching their reactions, hoping “tricks of the trade” wasn’t too much of colloquialism, and that they’d understood. “Because we’re currently entertaining fewer guests for dinner, it appears as though we don’t work very hard at our jobs. I assure you, we do.”
    I took another look at the wall clock. Not quite two thirty. Sargeant had warned me to be mindful of the fact that our guests would be suffering from jet lag and had set our first day’s schedule to end at three. “The car to take you back to your hotel will be here in thirty minutes,” I said. “Why don’t we go over tomorrow’s schedule in our remaining time, and plan to start fresh in the morning?”
    When they were finally gone for the day, Bucky folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Doesn’t ever get easier around here, does it?”

CHAPTER 4

    That night, Gav and I settled in at the kitchen table to have dinner and discuss our days. He passed the Brussels sprouts to me. “Do they have a prognosis for Marcel?” he asked as I scooped a helping onto my dish. Dinner tonight was a balsamic-crusted roast pork loin with mashed potatoes and the delicious sprouts. Comfort food. Perfect for the cooler fall weather.
    “I heard from him before we left for the day. He was groggy, but lucid. He’s scheduled for a battery of tests tomorrow.”
    “And his arm?”
    “Oh, it’s broken all right.” I pointed to a spot halfway up my forearm. “If I understood correctly, he not only dislocated his elbow, he broke both his radius and ulna, right about here.”
    Gav winced. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
    As we served ourselves and dug into our meal, Gav told me a little bit about his day. He’d gone back to work several weeks ago, after an extended medical leave and our two-day honeymoon—most of which had been spent moving his belongings into my Crystal City apartment.
    I listened as he told me about how, even after weeks back on the job, training his muscles to behave the way they had before his injuries was harder work than he’d anticipated. While he talked, I remembered our wedding day and how he’d surprised me by bringing everyone I loved together for the ceremony.
    I sighed.
    “Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” he asked.
    “Nothing at all, why?”
    “You’ve got a wistful look on your face,” he said. “You seem miles away.”
    “I’m sorry. One of the things you said whisked me back to our wedding day in the China Room.”
    “No regrets about marrying me?” he asked. “The two of us lived on our own for a long time. We’re still in the adjustment period as a couple.”
    “I think we’re handling that marvelously.”
    He reached over to grab my hand. “Do you?”
    “Absolutely.” I smiled as he ran a thumb over the backs of my knuckles. “What about you?” I asked. “It had to be tough to leave your bachelor pad for this quiet area.” I thought about Gav’s place, closer to the bustle of D.C. I’d loved the view of the Washington Monument from his living room.
    “There’s no place I’d rather be than right here.”
    I pulled my hand away, grinning. “Your food is getting cold.”
    He looked as though he was about to say more when his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, gave the display a curious, confused look, then answered. “Gavin here.” He pushed back from the table and stood. As he listened, he started toward the living room.
    I wondered why he hadn’t answered it as “Special Agent Gavin.” Must be a personal call.
    He stopped