Anthony Lancaster flashed him a grin. "Fancy meeting Clara here. We were just catching up."
Clara Green's pulse fluttered—he remembered her name? A fizzy excitement bubbled up as she opened her mouth to explain her presence, but the words caught in her throat.
How could she possibly say it? That she'd slept with James Lancaster, gotten pregnant, and married him in a whirlwind?
No way. Not in a million years...
While she chewed her lip raw, James smoothly interjected, "Clara was invited by Grandma. They met in an ikebana workshop."
"Small world," Anthony chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Clara, give me your number. I'll take you to dinner sometime." He slid his phone toward her. His unlocked device felt heavy in her hands—such casual trust—as her thumbs darted across the scre
