Finn had loved watching Chelsea crack up. Her cheeks glowed pink and her lashes were spiked with tears of laughter. “Gentlemen, I take back what I said. With Chelsea in my corner, I can face any comers.” Jack nodded. “I could tell from the moment I laid eyes on her that she would be a worthy opponent. Never underestimate a woman with purple streaks in her hair.” “Lavender,” Chelsea shot back. “See what I mean?” Jack waved a hand in her direction. “She’ll stand up to anyone, even me. So, are we all gonna eat or dance?” “Both!” called out a male voice. Finn turned in his chair as a tall, fit man who was probably in his seventies walked toward them with a silver-haired woman who had the bearing of a queen. Finn stood, as did all the men at the table. Sarah Chance was in the building, along with her husband of only a few years, Pete Beckett. They came over immediately to the newcomers, and Chelsea rose from her chair to greet them.
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