Anna Olsen left her coat inside her father"s truck even though she had parked a block away from the Schmidt mansion, and the night air was so cold it hurt to breathe. But it was iffy that her black dress with its pinned-on white collar was going to let her blend in with the kitchen staff as it was. With a coat? No way.
So she tucked her hands under her armpits and hurried up the icy sidewalk, trying not to gawk at the gorgeous homes all around her, all lit up and filled with people gathering together to ring in 1934. She could just see the Lake of the Isles through the trees, and she knew the view out of every window at the back of the Schmidt mansion would be spectacular.
The walkway to the front door was shoveled and ice-free, but she wasn"t going to pass as the help if she went in the
