By the time they finally stepped out of Villa 6, nearly three hours had slipped by. What was supposed to be a brief breakfast had stretched straight into the early afternoon, largely because Nina had refused to let go of Victoria's hand until she received three separate promises for another visit.
Settling into the passenger seat of the car, Victoria rested the cloth-wrapped container securely on her lap. Inside were the fresh, warm cinnamon rolls Linda had adamantly pressed into her hands before they left, refusing to let her walk out the door empty-handed.
There was no trace of the formidable, untouchable Madame Blackwood who usually commanded boardrooms with a single glance.
Her pinned hair had softened, a few loose strands framing her face, and her dark eyes carried a lively, radiant glow. A faint, lingering smile played on her lips, her entire posture relaxed in a way that seemed almost entirely new to her.
