included a cocktail stick with a row of multi-colored gummy bears impaled upon it. “Passion fruit and pomegranate.”
Maggie stared. “Wow, a gummy-bear cocktail?” She picked it up, turned the stem of the glass between her fingers, and admired the little bears like pretty jewels. “You know the way to a girl’s heart.”
“Don’t blame me if it’s awful,” he added, “The barman recommended it. It’s his teen special.” He sat down next to her. He’d like to get to know her. She’d been part of a carefree time when the only real problem was finding two clean socks that matched; no difficult choices. His parents’ fights had stopped for a while, and he’d been left to his own devices. Things had been easier. “I’d go easy on the gummy bears if I were you.”
“Ohhh-kay.”
She stretched out the syllables and stared off in the direction of the music. Why wouldn’t she look him in the face? She seemed spiky. Maybe it was the jetlag.
“Cheers. I’m glad we’re here.” He clinked her glass and captured her gaze, determined not to let her look away. “Doing this.”
She drew in an indignant breath. “About that Santa costume stuff. In future I’d appreciate it if you didn’t regale my co-workers with the details of your trip down memory lane.” She was looking at him with raised eyebrows and she’d somehow managed to set her lips in a thin, disapproving line.
“It was a very sexy Santa costume, if my memory serves me well.” Was she blushing? She’d gone all buttoned-up again.
“Frankly, it was a little bit slutty. I wouldn’t be seen dead in anything like that these days.”
Pity!
Maggie bit the head off a gummy bear. “It may be news to you, but I have a professional image to maintain.”
So, that’s what this was about? Her image? She glared fixedly at her hands. He’d spotted her bright-yellow nails and caught himself wondering if there was a set of brightly colored underwear lurking under her clothes. All her outfits were in black, white and grey. The hint of deep-pink silk he’d inadvertently seen on the plane was enticing, but black was good, white too. He was inappropriately preoccupied with her lingerie possibilities. And the laid-back, colorful person she used to be. What had happened to her? She’d moved on. It was time he got his head around that. “I’m sorry,” he said, “We didn’t mean to embarrass you. Nick and I got carried away. The last thing I want to do is offend you.”
Finally, she met his eyes.
He held her gaze again, determined not to be the first one to look away. “It was a long time ago. I doubt anyone paid much attention. Things like that go in one ear and out the other. It’s not like I told them we slept together.”
“Yes – about that.” She pulled the remaining gummy bears off the cocktail stick and arranged them in a neat little row in her palm. “A line needs to be drawn. First off, we didn’t sleep together. We fell asleep together. There’s a difference.” The cool exterior intrigued him. His vibrant friend had morphed into Monochrome Magenta, all-purpose style adviser. He shouldn’t be the least bit affected by her. But the hot hints of color beneath the surface turned out to be impossible to ignore. The pop of silky pink he’d accidently glimpsed on the plane had fired his imagination. “Since we’re working together, and there are twenty-four more hours to go …” she continued, all hoity-toity, talking as if not to him, but to an audience in general, and looking like a TV fashion presenter about to introduce a lineup of models. She’d be good at that! “I think we should agree that what happened was a ve-ry forgettable, ve-ry regrettable drunken night.”
Ouch!
“Don’t pull any punches.”
“Honestly. If I could go back to that night and not not-sleep with you, that’s exactly what I’d do.” Her voice was convincingly couldn’t-care-less.
Double Ouch! There’d been a time when he’d wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t left London when he did. She’d given him the answer. If he’d fantasized that they’d almost been more than friends, he’d been mistaken.
Except – he wasn’t entirely clear about what she was actually saying. Was it that she wished they had slept together? Or that she was glad they didn’t? The gist of it seemed to be that she’d rather the episode had not occurred. All the same, he couldn’t resist winding her up a bit. “For the record,” he said. “If I could rewind the clock I’d definitely still sleep with you.”
She didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, she fired daggers at him with her eyes. Another gummy bear disappeared into her mouth. Slicked with a coating of natural, shiny gloss, her lips were magnetic. Tempted to kiss her, he ran a hand across his jaw. The prickle of stubble grated against his fingers.
Hands planted on his knees, he slowly shook his head. “Fine,” he conceded. “Let’s pretend it never happened. We’re two friends who lost touch. End of story.”
“Okay.” Did she flinch? He must have imagined it.
“Okay.” He held out a hand to her. “Shake on it?” She put her small hand in his. He clasped her fingers, his eyes drawn to her nails and the glaring contrast the splashes of yellow made against her clothes.
She downed her fruit cocktail much too quickly and stood up. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “There’s something I need to do.”
“What’s the rush?”
Was she crossing the fingers of her left hand? What was that about? There was a noticeable vacancy on the ring finger. She appeared so available – and yet there was a shut-offness about her that he didn’t get. One minute he got sparks of the old Maggie, the next she was giving him the cold shoulder.
She gathered her bags together. “Bye Alex. Thanks for the drink.”
This was a first. Women in hotel bars weren’t usually so keen to get away from him. She was about to make her escape when she wobbled on her heels, her face woozy. “Maggie!” He jumped up and caught her as she started to crumple. “Are you okay?”
“I stood up too quickly. That’s all. I’m fine.” She sat down again, all of a sudden wan. “Actually, I’m not fine,” she admitted. “I feel queasy.”
“It’ll be those damn gummy bears. I knew they looked like trouble. I’ll get you some iced water.” He strode quickly to the bar.
Maggie sucked in a few deep breaths. She felt okay-ish again. The cocktail had been a tad on the sickly-sweet side but it hadn’t made her ill. She had the distinct feeling that her artificial insemination procedure had worked. She should do that pregnancy test and check. Ought she to tell Alex the truth? Try as she might to put up her defenses, she was drawn to him, and she was desperate to confide in someone. He was so much more than a familiar face. He reminded her of a time when grown-up life was new and fresh and fun. Before he left. Before Marcus cheated. Choices weren’t difficult then – everything was as easy as choosing a nail color.
As she sipped the water he sat watching her, concern etched on his face. The pianist had taken a break. The bar was empty and silent apart from the clinking of ice cubes in her glass.
“That something I was talking about,” she started. “The thing I have to do.”
