“I told Carl it makes sense,” she said.

“I’m sure you did,” Kit replied.

“When I’m taking care of the kids, it’s impossible to watch television. But I would listen to the radio if the programming were interesting. And appropriate for little ears.”

“You’re already starting to think like a radio programmer,” Carl teased.

A blush stained her cheeks. “I’m just telling you what I know about being a mother, that’s all.” She took another sip of her champagne, then smiled at Kit.

The conversation continued without Kit’s participation. Though she tried to draw him in, he preferred to sit back and watch her in action, to evaluate her motives and to find the best way to counteract her beauty. His father seemed completely captivated, hanging on every word she said, lavishing her with compliments.

When she finished her champagne, she set her napkin on the table and pushed back in her chair. “If you’ll excuse me. I need to call home and check on the kids.”

They both watched her walk out of the dining room. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Carl said.

“What the hell are you thinking? She’s got to be thirty years younger than you.”

“At least,” Carl said. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

“Are you really that blinded by her beauty? She’s out to snare you, Dad. She knows you have money and she’s moving in for the kill.”

“What?” Carl laughed, clearly taken aback by Kit’s comments.

“Come on, Dad. I see what’s going on here, even if you don’t.”

“You think you do,” he said. “But you’re wrong.”

“You can’t date her.”

He straightened as if suddenly insulted. “I suppose I could do whatever I want. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”