“Moira? Moira Bryce?” Mr. Darrow asked in disbelief.
“Esca.” A faint smile traced the corner of her mouth. She didn’t seem as surprised as Mr. Darrow, yet she still exuded a subtle air of repressed pleasure.
“Wowza, she’s pretty,” Monte whispered.
A faint whistle left Garrick’s lips.
“Shush,” Mrs. Darrow warned through clenched teeth.
“You’re the last person I expected to see here today,” Mr. Darrow exclaimed. “But then again, you’ve always been a go-getter so I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised. Oh . . .” Mr. Darrow interrupted himself. “Pardon my rudeness. This is my family.” He swept his hand across the impressed bunch. “You remember Vanessa? And these are my sons.”
“A pleasure,” Moira said in a buttery voice. She extended her arms toward Mrs. Darrow and pulled her into a forceful
