“Have a seat, Tess.” Geneva crossed to a cabinet. “This won’t take long.”

Tess perched on the edge of one of the delicate chairs near Geneva ’s desk. Neatly stacked on the desk’s surface were correspondence and newsletters, no doubt from the Historical Society, the Garden Club, the Ladies’ League, the University Foundation Committee. As one of the Cove’s leading citizens, Geneva liked to keep a finger in every social pie in the county.

“I know it’s a bit early for this,” she said as she dribbled sherry into two dainty goblets, “but I think we can indulge ourselves just this once.”

Tess hesitated before taking the glass. She rarely drank-her mother had done enough of that for everyone in the family. She stared at the golden liquid in the elaborately etched crystal and told herself there was no harm in it, just this once. She sipped and braced for the burn along her throat, and then she lowered the drink to her lap and waited for her grandmother to explain the reason for her summons.

“I spoke with Arlie Ratliff again today.” Geneva settled in one of the high-backed chairs flanking the fireplace and regarded Tess over the rim of her glass. “He’s had a change of heart.”

Tess clutched the arm of her chair. The city councilman had been on the fence about changing the zoning of Geneva ’s waterfront property to allow for commercial development. “Would this change have anything to do with Tidewaters?”

“Yes. He assures me he’ll vote for rezoning at tonight’s council meeting.”

“And we’ll have the building permit in hand by tomorrow afternoon.” Elated, Tess raised her glass in a toast. “You did it.”

“Arlie owed me a favor or two.” Geneva swirled the sherry in her glass with a sly smile. “I simply had to jog his memory a bit. And then promise him I’d forget all about it myself.”