Chapter Eighteen
I pulled it open to see Reggie there, smiling and looking hesitant. “Hi, Ann. Sorry if I’m interrupting anything.”
“No, not a thing. Would you like to come inside?”
Reggie gave me a relieved look. “That would be great, thanks.”
I ushered him in, thinking as I did that this must be a record about twenty times over for the number of people I’ve ever had in my house on any given day.
“Can I get you something to drink? Something to eat?” I was really getting good at the hostess duties.
“What? Oh, no. Thanks, though.” Reggie settled down on my sofa next to Fitz and started aimlessly rubbing him. “You must be wondering why I dropped by. I just—well, I was driving by and saw your car here. I’ve had so much on my mind lately that I thought it might be helpful if I . . . well
