Copyright Patricia McLinn
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Dear Readers: If you encounter typos or errors in this book, please send them to me at:
Even with many layers of editing, mistakes can slip through, alas. But, together, we can eradicate the nasty nuisances. Thank you! - Patricia McLinn
"LOOK AT HIM, Ellie — the perfect man."
Eleanor Thatcher grimaced at her cousin, trying to convey that she should lower her voice.
Not that she had any hope it would work. Might as well hope that every driver in Boston would use turn signals as hope Valerie would watch what she said, even in a public place.
"I mean, there he is. Exactly what we need, and right here in front of us," Valerie said, perhaps even louder.
The red-bearded man to their left was actively eavesdropping. If Eleanor hadn't already suspected it, his stillness and the way he averted his eyes, thus putting his right ear directly in the path of Val's voice, would have convinced her. Of course, it didn't require much effort to pick up what Val said.