“Do you need me to look after little Jonathan?” she asked, already stretching out her arms.

“I’ve got him. But I promised him some ice cream. Do we have any?”

“Of course we do.” She smiled at the boy. “What ice cream do you want? Vanilla? Strawberry?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Chocolate!”

“Well, let me see.” Consuela pushed her way through the people working in her kitchen until she finally reached the freezer. A moment later she was back. She unwrapped the ice cream cone and handed it to Jonathan.

The boy instantly licked the top of it.

“Now what do you say to Consuela, Jonathan?” Paul prompted.

“Thank you, Consuela.”

“Good boy.” Paul pressed a kiss to the top of his head and lifted Jonathan onto the kitchen counter, while holding him so he couldn’t slide down.

“Babysitting duty?” a voice asked from behind.

Paul turned around and smiled at Jay, who was also dressed in a tuxedo. “I don’t mind.” And in fact, he didn’t. He loved his nephew.

Before he could say anything else, one of the kitchen staff pressed a tray of champagne glasses into Jay’s hands. “Here, take that out to the terrace.”

“Excuse me?” Jay’s forehead furrowed.

Paul laughed. “Looks like somebody just mistook you for a waiter. Maybe it’s time you got a new tuxedo.”

Jay set the tray down and took a glass. “This is a new tuxedo!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir,” the woman apologized, red-faced.

Jay shrugged, then pointed to Jonathan. “Looks like your nephew made quite a mess.”

Paul whirled back. “Oh crap!”

“Oh crap,” Jonathan repeated and gave him a sheepish look.

Big brown stains of ice cream graced the front of his T-shirt and trousers.

“Grammy is going to kill us both,” Paul prophesied.

“Uh-oh,” Jonathan replied.

Consuela pushed her way through the kitchen personnel. “I’ll get him changed before Miss Nora sees it.” She lifted Jonathan down from the counter. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Jonathan, yes?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks, Consuela, I owe you one,” Paul called after her. Then he snatched a glass of champagne from the tray and slapped Jay on the shoulder. “I think we’re in the way here.”

Together they walked through the dining room and the open plan living room, where people had started to gather. Paul motioned to the French doors and the two of them walked outside onto the terrace.

The sun was starting to set and twinkling lights had been hung from bush to bush and tree to tree, illuminating the garden, terrace, and pool area. It would look almost romantic had there not been so many people around. Paul knew that his mother had invited close to a hundred guests, and it appeared that the majority had already arrived.

Waiters were circulating with trays of drinks and nibbles. No buffet had been erected, because his mother found buffets ordinary and preferred to have waiters walk around with trays of food instead.

“How are things going with the house?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “The construction is ongoing. Sometimes I think it was a mistake to buy an old house that needed so much work.”

“Yeah, but you can’t beat the location.”

“True!” Jay conceded. “Though I can’t exactly enjoy it right now. I moved onto the yacht while they’re working on the house.”

“Oh, you’re not staying at Zach’s in the meantime?” On previous visits, before Jay had bought the old, rundown house on the Beach in Montauk, he’d always stayed at Zach’s house in Bridgehampton.

“No, I can’t keep cramping his style. Besides, I just got the new yacht and wanted to try it out.”

“Where are you moored? I thought your new property didn’t have a boat dock.”

“Not yet. I’m having them build one. In the meantime, your neighbors two doors down, the Raines, rented their dock to me for the rest of the summer.”

“It’s lucky you found something so close.”

“Yeah. Oh look, there are Xavier and Michael. Looks like they finally made it.” Jay pointed to two of their friends who stood near the pool, glasses of champagne in their hands.

“Excellent,” Paul exclaimed and was following Jay down the steps that led toward the pool, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Paul?”

He turned halfway at the sound of the female voice.