A Leap of Faith

“Don’t try to figure me out,
Autumn,” Campbell said.

“I’m just a man who was lost once. Now I’ve found my way. I only ask that you don’t push me away, because I need to be here, right here, working for your father.”

Autumn sighed. Did he think she was fishing for information just so she could report back to her father and push Campbell out of business? Did he really think she was that ruthless?

“I wasn’t planning on shoving you out the door,” she said, a little spark of anger replacing her need to nurture him. “I just wanted to know more about you.”

“Well, now you do,” he said, gently taking her arm and leading her into the restaurant. He stopped at the door. “Oh, and I promised your father I wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that.”

“No, but I didn’t exactly promise him I wouldn’t fall for you, either. Because that’s a promise I don’t think I’m going to be able to keep.”

LENORA WORTH

knew she wanted to be a writer after her fourth-grade teacher assigned a creative writing project. While the other children moaned and groaned, Lenora gleefully wrote her first story, then promptly sold it (for a quarter) on the playground. She actually started selling in bookstores in 1993. Before joining Steeple Hill, Lenora wrote for Avalon and Leisure Books.

Married for thirty years, Lenora has two children. Before writing full-time, she worked in marketing and public relations. She has served in her local RWA chapter and as president of Faith, Hope, and Love, the inspirational chapter of RWA. She also wrote a weekly opinion column for the Shreveport Times for five years, and now writes a monthly column for SB magazine.

A Leap of Faith
Lenora Worth

By faith we understand that the worlds

were framed by the word of God, so that the

things which are seen were not made of

things which are visible.

—Hebrews 11:3

To my fellow Love Inspired authors—

friends, sisters and awesome writers all!

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Letter to Reader

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

“Weddings always make me cry.”

Autumn Maxwell turned to the tall, dark-haired man who’d just whispered that slightly sarcastic statement, apparently for her ears only. He wasn’t what she’d call handsome. But he wasn’t hard to look at, either. He had brown, almost black eyes and hair about the same color. He wore an impeccably tailored gray lightweight suit with dark gray suede lace-up shoes that could only be described as sneakers.

Wondering why he’d decided to bother her, Autumn gave him a once-over then said, “I don’t see any tears.”

He slanted his head sideways, causing his thick hair to ruffle across his forehead, then held a hand to his heart. “In here. I’m crying in here.”

“Oh, well, that explains it then.” Autumn tuned out his pleasant drawling accent, then turned to stare out at the crowd of people mingling by the shimmering swimming pool at the Big M Ranch in Paris, Texas.

They were celebrating the wedding of Autumn’s cousin, April Maxwell, to Reed Garrison. Reed had been April’s high school sweetheart and the man she’d fallen in love with all over again when she’d come home earlier this year. Autumn knew this had been an emotional day for April. Her father, Stuart, had passed away back in the spring, and her mother had died years ago in a plane crash. But today, April looked joyful as she mingled with her guests in the soft late-September sunshine. She loved Reed, and they were happy together at last, in spite of how much April missed her parents. April and Reed had a strong faith that would see them through. And they’d have a good marriage. Autumn sent up thanks for that, even while her own heart hurt with loneliness.

“Explains what?” the man beside Autumn asked, leaning toward her, his broad shoulders blocking her view.

Autumn looked up at him, a tired kind of reluctance pulling at her very bones as she refocused on him. Giving him a weak smile, she asked, “Are you still here?”

“Ouch, that hurt.” He grinned then extended a hand. “Campbell Dupree, invited guest.”

Autumn took his hand, shook it, then drew back, the jolt of awareness his touch had brought knocking her off balance for only an instant. “Autumn Maxwell, cousin of the bride.”

He stood straight up, his eyebrows slanting as he grinned. “I know who you are.”

That smug admission caused Autumn to step back. She didn’t like the intimate way he was looking at her. “And how do you know who I am?”

He drew his head back, his eyes locked on her face. “I saw you in the wedding party, but I had no idea—”

“Second bridesmaid to the left,” Autumn retorted, a wry smile on her face.

His gaze moved over her face. “As I was trying to explain, I was told before the wedding that you and your cousin Summer would be attendants, but I had no idea how pretty you’d both be. Especially you.”

Autumn let out a laugh. “Okay, you should just can the sweet talk. We all know Summer is the pretty one. April is the stylish one, and me, well, I’m the plain one.”

He shook his head. “Depends on your definition of plain. Right now, you don’t look plain at all. You look radiant.”

She hid her unladylike snort behind her hand. “Are you for real?”

He looked down at himself, patted his chest and shoulders. “I feel real.”

Autumn could attest to that. He looked solid, as if he worked out on a regular basis. Nice biceps aside, she really wished he’d just go away. She wanted to stand here and enjoy watching April and Reed laughing with their guests. This was their day, so Autumn refused to think any negative thoughts. Except this annoying man with the strange shoes and the dark, mysterious eyes was making that difficult.

“Is there something else you’d like to say?” she asked the man, since he was still watching, make that ogling her.

“So you’re Richard Maxwell’s daughter?”

She mimicked his earlier moves, slapping her hands against her bare arms. “Yes, last time I checked.” Then she made a face to discourage any more questions. “And it was really nice to meet you, but I’m going to walk away now, okay?”

“Why?” He followed her back toward the punch table on the long patio of the Big M’s ranch house. “Why are you walking away?”

Autumn fingered the delicate strand of pearls April had given her for being a bridesmaid, then pushed at the smooth chignon she’d been forced to endure in order to please the bride’s sense of style. “Because I’m not a very social person, and because you’re beginning to get on my last nerve.”

He stepped in front of the punch bowl, a beseeching grin splitting his face. “But you hardly know me.”

“My point exactly,” Autumn said, trying to scoot around him. Suddenly, she was very thirsty and that almond tea punch was looking better and better.

Campbell Dupree headed her off by coming around to the back of the table. He stood staring over the crystal bowl at her while he ladled her some punch. Handing her the cup, he asked, “So you attend weddings, even participate in them, but you don’t enjoy being around other people at the receptions?”

“Something like that,” Autumn replied, her smile practiced and efficient. She downed the whole cup of punch, hoping he’d be gone by the time she got to the bottom.

He wasn’t.

“And just why aren’t you a social person?”

Giving him a shrug of impatience that caused her blush-colored sleeveless bridesmaid dress to shimmer, she replied, “I deal in numbers. I’m an accountant. Or at least I was.”

“In New York,” he said, admiration flickering in his eyes. “I’ve heard all about that.”

“You have?” Curious now, Autumn stopped thinking about how to get away. “How do you know all about me? Are you one of my father’s clients or business buddies, or are you a friend of Reed’s?”

Before he could answer, her father came barreling up to them. “There you are,” he said to Autumn. “I’ve been looking for you. I see you’ve met Campbell.”

“Yes,” Autumn said, wondering with renewed interest how her father knew Campbell Dupree, and wondering why her father seemed so nervous and flushed. “He was just about to tell me—”

“I was just about to tell her yet again how very lovely she looks,” Campbell said, his smoky gaze moving from her father to Autumn. “As I said earlier, you and your cousin make a lovely pair of bridesmaids.”

“Thanks,” Autumn said, thinking the man was surely repetitive and just a bit too charming. Glancing back at her perspiring father she asked, “Daddy, are you okay?”

Richard Maxwell looked as handsome as ever in his dark suit and shiny cowboy boots, but a fine sheen of moisture glowed across his forehead. “I’m fine, honey. But we need to talk. In private.”

“Is something wrong?” Autumn said, glancing around. “Is April okay?”

“April is one happy bride,” Richard replied. “And Summer is inside with little Michael. Poor little fellow—tough about him losing his mother last month. But Summer and Mack are doing a fine job of surrounding him with love. I reckon they’ll be having their own wedding soon.”

Autumn nodded. Her father was sandbagging for some reason. Apparently, he had something he really wanted to say, but he was talking about everything but that, whatever it was.

She watched as his glance bounced back and forth between Campbell Dupree and her. “What’s the matter, Daddy?”

“Let’s go inside,” Richard said, giving Campbell a warning look. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Not at all, sir,” Campbell said, backing away. “It was nice to meet you, Autumn.”

“You, too,” Autumn said, not exactly sure if the word nice would describe this particular meeting.

She did need to talk to her father, however. Wondering how she was going to break the news that her company in New York had downsized and she’d been laid off, Autumn followed Richard into the cool interior of the house. She’d arrived home for the wedding three days ago, but she hadn’t been able to find the right time to tell her father that she might have to move back to Atlanta, Texas, and work at his financial firm for a while. Just until she could figure out what to do with the rest of her life.

Maybe this layoff had been a blessing in disguise. April was now married and back at the Big M. Summer had moved back to Athens, Texas, to work as a counselor at the Golden Vista Retirement Village, and to be with her new love, Mack Riley. That had left Autumn all alone in New York. All alone and now without a job. Maybe God was testing her.

Autumn had been forced to try and find new roommates for their loft apartment, feeling lonely and more than a tad bitter. But the more she thought about two strangers moving into the place where she and her cousins had shared so much, the more she dreaded that happening. She didn’t want new roommates.

Maybe coming home was the best option, even though she’d planned on working a few more years in New York before she wanted to consider moving back to Texas. But the city was big and gloomy without her cousins. And her father had always told her she had a place at Maxwell Financial Group any time she wanted to come home. He might even offer her a job here on the spot.

Richard marched her to the big den toward the front of the Spanish-style house. “We can talk in private in here.”

“Daddy, you’re scaring me. Why all the secrecy?”

“Nothing secret, darlin’. Just wanted some quiet time with my little girl. I haven’t had a minute with you over the last few days, and we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Autumn sank down on a chair, watching her father pace in front of the fireplace. “And I have a lot to tell you. Daddy, I—”

Richard held up a hand. “I’m just gonna come out and tell you, honey. I’m retiring from the firm.”

“You are?” Surprised, Autumn held on to the arm of her chair. “When did you decide this?”

“Oh, right after your uncle Stuart died. I had been toying with the idea even before then, but his illness made me think. Our time here on earth is precious. And I want to spend more time with your mama and with the rest of my family, before it’s too late.”

“You’re not sick?”

“No, no. I had me a little scare a while back, but the doctors tell me I’m as healthy as a horse these days. It’s just that, well, it was time. The firm is in good shape. Very good shape.”

Autumn let that information soak in, wondering what kind of scare her daddy had experienced. Surely her mother would have told her if anything bad had happened. “I’m glad to hear that you’re okay, Daddy. And that the firm is solid. I’d love to—”

“Honey, I’d love to have you come back and work at the firm,” Richard said, interrupting her yet again, as was his lovable way.

“Oh, Daddy.” Autumn jumped up to hug him. “I was so worried. I didn’t know how I was going to tell you—”

“Tell me what?”

“That I lost my job in New York. Downsizing.” Seeing the shock on his face, she hurried to reassure him. “But I got a nice severance package and of course, I still have my stock, even though it’s down because of this layoff. Anyway, I’m fine. But I don’t want to stay in New York by myself.”

Richard stood back, a grin splitting his face. “Well, San Antonio and El Paso, too. If that don’t beat all. Good timing, huh? I’m sorry about your job, but I could sure use you at Maxwell. How ’bout you come to work for your ol’ daddy again, honey?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Autumn admitted, relief coursing through her. “I could find work in New York, but with everyone being back here—”

“You need to be back here, too,” Richard finished, a soft smile on his face. “You know you always have a place here, Autumn.”

“Yes, but I was just so afraid—”

Richard cleared his throat. “Listen, honey. When I decided back in the spring about retiring, well, I made some decisions I need to tell you about. There’s just one little hitch to all of this—”

There he went, looking nervous again. He wasn’t telling her the whole story, Autumn decided. The Maxwell men had a huge problem with communicating. She’d have to pry it out of him.

“Oh, and what would that be?” she asked, confused at his sheepish expression. Richard Maxwell never looked sheepish. And he never got nervous. Maybe he really was sick, and he was just afraid to tell her. “What’s the hitch, Daddy?” she asked, repeating his words to her, her heart hoping he wouldn’t give her bad news.

Then a tall figure cut through the sun rays streaming across the wide hallway.

“That would be me,” Campbell said, his smile one-sided. “I’m the little hitch in this plan.”

“What does he—”

Richard held Autumn by the arm, as if he expected her to bolt. “Uh, honey, that’s what I needed to talk to you about. Campbell works for me. He took over the firm a few months ago, and just in time, too, I might add. And if you come back, well, you’d be working for—with—him now.”

Autumn looked from her father to the tall man standing with his hands in the pockets of his trousers, rocking back and forth on those ridiculous shoes. She turned back to Richard. “You mean, I won’t be in charge of things?”

“Not just yet,” Richard said, dread clear in his eyes. “It wouldn’t be fair to Campbell. I’ve already given him the job.”

Autumn waited while a sense of defeat settled over her system. “You hired a complete stranger to take over our family business, without even asking me how I’d feel about that?”

Richard nodded, then looked down at the woven rug. “Yep.”

Autumn took in that one word, then nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “Well, I guess that makes sense. I mean, I did say all along I wanted to keep working in New York.”

“That’s the impression I had, honey,” Richard replied, clearly worried about her reaction. “I didn’t want you to feel obligated to come back if you weren’t ready.”

Suddenly, all the signs were there. Her father had been acting strangely over the last few months. Cryptic and tight-lipped. April had urged Autumn to talk to him, but Autumn had been too busy at work to worry overmuch about her father back in Texas. She’d just chalked it up to grief over losing his older brother. Now, Autumn had to wonder if April had known about this and was afraid to tell her. April had probably insisted to Richard he be the one to break the news. And he should have been the one.

“Why didn’t you at least mention this, Daddy?”

Richard shuffled and shrugged. “You just seemed so happy in New York, and you were making buckets of money. I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I knew you had that infernal ten-year plan you’ve always talked about. I didn’t want to mess with that, honey. I didn’t want you back here out of some sense of misguided duty.”

Autumn saw the sincerity in her father’s eyes. “Well, that’s awfully sweet of you, Daddy. But I’m afraid my ten-year plan has gone down the drain about halfway through.”

“I hate to hear that,” Richard said, “but hey, it all worked out for the best. You’re here now, and you can work at Maxwell Financial Group, just like I’ve always wanted.”

“You could have asked me about this sooner,” Autumn said, seeing the doubt and concern in Campbell’s eyes. “Whether I came back or not, I’m your daughter. I had a right to know. You didn’t even ask me how I’d feel about this. You didn’t even give me a chance to decide, either way.”

“I’m asking now,” Richard said. “Honey, I want you to be a part of the family business. I’ve always wanted that. You know that. And I have a plan myself—”

“Yeah, right,” Autumn said, using her father’s interrupting tactics to halt his next words. “Me working for him. That’s your plan. I don’t think that’s going to work.”

“Working with him,” Richard corrected. “I’ve got it all worked out. I can set things up so you’ll be an equal partner.”

“Equal partner?” Autumn pointed a finger at Campbell. “I’m your flesh and blood, Daddy. I’d say that gives me a little more than equal benefits over some interloper. I won’t have him bossing me around.”

Campbell stepped farther into the room. “Hey, I’m a good boss.” At her heated look, he quickly added, “Not that I’d ever boss you around. No, ma’am. I’m fun to work with and I’m fair. We’ll do just fine together.”

“Oh, I just reckon we would, but I’m afraid I’m not ready to have a partner,” Autumn replied. Heading for the door, she said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll just take my chances somewhere else.” She turned to leave the room, her eyes locking with Campbell’s. “I can’t take the job after all, Daddy. It would be rather awkward, coming back and having to deal with someone besides you at Maxwell Financial Group. I’m sorry we couldn’t work this out, but…I’ll find something else soon. I have lots of contacts all over the place. No need to worry about me.”

She gave Campbell Dupree one last look, then she shot out the door and down the hall before she could do something really embarrassing, like bursting into frustrated tears.

Chapter Two

That had not gone very well.

Campbell pulled his sweet red classic ’57 Corvette into the attached open garage of the cottage-style house he’d rented when he’d first arrived in Atlanta, Texas, his mind still reeling from the open hostility and hurt Autumn Maxwell had shown him at her cousin’s wedding earlier today.

She didn’t want to work with him. How was he going to put a spin on that with her father? Richard had gone on and on all summer about the possibility of Autumn one day coming back to the family business. He’d even put that stipulation in Campbell’s contract. And Campbell had agreed, thinking it would probably come a foot of snow in August before he’d ever have to worry about that happening.

He glanced around. “It’s September,” he reminded himself. “And the temperature is in the seventies.”

Not a hint of snow among the tall pines, mushrooming oaks or aged hickory trees. The leaves on some of the trees were beginning to turn, but other than that, things looked perfectly clear.

Except the outlook on his future.

So what had happened today?

How had his life, the life he’d planned and mapped out the day he’d arrived here in this small town, suddenly become a confusing muddle?

Because of that lady with the pretty golden-brown eyes and beautiful auburn-streaked hair.

Autumn Maxwell. The boss’s daughter.

How could such a pretty but aloof woman get to him in such a short time? Campbell prided himself on being able to read women. And on being able to charm them. His Cajun roots didn’t allow for anything less.

Neither ability had worked on Autumn Maxwell. Now the burning question was, why? Or maybe, why not?

He’d thought about nothing else on the long ride back to Atlanta. The woman sure didn’t want to be anywhere near the likes of him. Or maybe, she just didn’t trust men, period. After all, she was a stuffy accountant type. Supposedly.

So are you, supposedly, he reminded himself. And maybe the woman was hostile because he’d taken over the company that would one day belong to her. Well, not so much taken over. Her father was still in charge. But Campbell was the wingman. So to speak.

He couldn’t blame her. If someone else had swooped in and started running a company his family had owned forever, he’d probably be mad as a hornet, too. But then, Campbell thought with a twist of bitterness, his father had lost their family business long before Campbell had been old enough even to work there. That still didn’t set well with Campbell, which was probably the reason he was now classified as a type A personality. A born workaholic, ruthless and too smart for his own good. That’s how some described him.

But those same people sure didn’t mind him investing their money and making them a killing in the stock market. Those people had probably never gone barefooted in the middle of winter or had to wear ratty, hand-me-down clothes from the secondhand store. They’d probably never had to beg for after-school jobs or work twelve-hour days in the soybean and sugarcane fields just to make ends meet.

Parking the car, Campbell turned off the engine and leaned back on the white leather headrest, closing his eyes to the fatigue that seemed to be pushing him down. The old days of stepping out of poverty, only to step on everyone else to get ahead, were long gone. He’d had to take a step back, reevaluate his tactics. He’d been fast approaching burnout down in New Orleans. It had only taken a couple of panic attacks to show Campbell that he needed to slow down, take things easy. And it had only taken one quiet, rainy evening sitting in an empty church somewhere in the Garden District to understand that God, not Campbell Dupree, was the one in charge.

“So that’s how you wound up here,” he reminded himself, his voice echoing through the tiny garage. Campbell had found God, and God had found Campbell a place to hide out and find the rest he needed so much.

But tonight, Campbell felt that old restless energy swirling around him like heat lightning. He couldn’t wait to move out to the beautiful cabin he’d found on Caddo Lake. The cabin was being renovated now, but soon Campbell would be lost out there amid the moss-covered cypress trees and the dark, blue-black waters. The place reminded him of home, of his grandfather’s tiny cabin down near Bayou Lafourche in southwest Louisiana. Once his own more modern version of that cabin was finished, he could fish all day in his pirogue, or just float along with the current. Right now, he had to settle for weekend stays at the cabin.

Campbell Dupree, the risk taker, the adventurer, had a new set of rules: Work hard, but rest easy. Don’t overdo working or playing. Stop. Look. Listen. Appreciate. Have faith.

At least these days, he had more time to devote to the simple life his long-dead grandfather had taught him to appreciate. No more burning the candle at both ends for the new and improved Campbell. No, sir. He might have given up all things Cajun and learned how to blend in with the mainstream world of business, but he could never turn his back on the values his grand-père Marlin Dupree had taught him.

“Stand still and consider the wondrous works of God.”

That verse from Job came to Campbell now. His grandfather had always told Campbell that God was in charge, and that Campbell needed to relax and let God do his work.

But Campbell felt some of that old burning tension inside his gut, white-hot and fiery. Maybe his ulcer was coming back. Or maybe he was just worried about the pretty woman with the chestnut hair and amber eyes he’d left back in Paris. Autumn Maxwell.

He knew all about Autumn Maxwell. Her father doted on his only daughter. Richard had been so concerned about not bothering Autumn, however, he’d neglected to tell her that he’d suffered a light heart attack over a month ago. No one had that information, except Campbell and Autumn’s mother, Gayle. It wouldn’t do for a Maxwell man to look weak.

Especially not to the daughter who was too far away and too caught up in her work to be bothered. Somehow, though, Campbell got the impression that if Autumn had known about her father’s health scare, she would have dropped everything to come back to Texas. She struck him as that kind of person. From everything her parents had told him, at least. And from the shining love he’d seen in her eyes when she laughed and talked with her family.

He envied that.

Campbell had been living underneath Autumn’s soft shadow since the first day he’d set foot inside the plush but comfortable front-street offices of Maxwell Financial Group. Richard had made no bones about how he wished Autumn would come back and work for him. But then he’d explained how Autumn lived in New York and worked for some fancy global accounting and finance firm. Richard had hinted that he probably couldn’t begin to match her salary. Campbell knew the particular firm mentioned and had to agree. Not too shabby. Then Richard had shown Campbell a picture of Autumn when she was younger. Again, not too shabby.

“Why didn’t I recognize her at first today?” Campbell said as he shut the door of the ’Vette and headed into the house. He’d noticed her and realized who she was only when she’d come walking up the aisle of the chapel, her pretty dress shimmering around her slender figure, her amber eyes bright with happy tears.

Well, she’d looked different today, stylish and all dolled up. The woman in the picture at the office had been younger, more fresh-faced and carefree in her jeans and flannel shirt, sitting on a horse. She’d been smiling.

The woman he’d offended today at the wedding had been sophisticated and polished, confident, but she hadn’t smiled a whole lot.

“Okay, maybe she smiled a little bit,” he said.

But not at him, Campbell reminded himself. She obviously was not impressed with the completely impressive Campbell Dupree.

If he really wanted to, Campbell thought as he poured himself a glass of milk, he could at least match her pedigree. He’d come from an old New Orleans family. Old money and a lineage that dated back to some broke but noble aristocrat in France—on his mother’s side, at least. He knew his lineage was part English, part French and sprinkled with Cajun from his father’s side.

But he, just like his long-gone father, had disgraced his mother’s family one time too many to use their geneology for leverage. No, Campbell Dupree did things his way. Always had and always would. And that included running Maxwell Financial Group. Only this time around, he’d have the guidance of God on his side, he prayed. This time around, Campbell would do things his way, but only after he’d prayed to God for help and understanding.

“Whether the heiress-apparent likes it or not.”

Campbell downed his milk, clutched his aching stomach and wondered why it was so important that Autumn Maxwell did approve of him.

“So you don’t approve of your father’s choice to run the firm?”

Autumn turned to her mother, shaking her head. “I didn’t say that. I just said he seems a bit too self-assured and arrogant for my taste.”

Gayle Maxwell settled back in the overstuffed chair in one of the many bedrooms of the Big M ranch house, one hand moving through her clipped auburn hair. “Funny, he reminds me so much of your father.”

“Daddy?” Autumn’s shocked expression reflected in the mirror of the antique vanity. Rubbing lotion over her freshly washed face, she laughed. “Mother, that man is nothing like my father.”

“Not in looks,” Gayle agreed, a hand touching the crocheted pillow she held in her lap. “But…the way he acts. Honestly, I think your daddy handpicked him because they are so much alike.”

Autumn whirled to stare over at her mother, glad the family was staying here at the ranch for the weekend. She wasn’t ready to go home to Atlanta and face Campbell Dupree just yet. “Why did Daddy pick him? I mean, why didn’t he talk to me about all of this? I am his only child, after all.”

Gayle shrugged, then carefully placed the lace pillow back behind her in the chair. “We all urged him to do just that. But you know how stubborn your father can be. He refused to pull you away from your career in New York. He thought you were happy there.”

“I was,” Autumn admitted. “Then everything changed.”

“Well, that’s exactly what happened here, too,” her mother said. “Your uncle Stuart passed on, then James decided to retire from gallivanting around and settle down in Athens. And—” She stopped, taking a breath.