the sunshine girl … A Piña Colada.’
She clapped her hands again. ‘Well done, Harry. That’s my favourite.’
‘At your service.’ He twirled his hand in a salute to them both and headed off to the bar.
Lucy was beside herself with delight. ‘He’s just what you need, Ellie. Loads of fun. You’ve been carrying responsibility for so long, it’s well past time you let loose and had a wild flutter for once. Be a butterfly instead of a worker bee.’
At least she didn’t say moth, Elizabeth thought wryly.
‘I might just do that,’ she drawled, encouraging the idea there was a connection between her and Harry.
‘Go for it,’ Lucy urged, bouncing forward on her seat in excitement. ‘I’m going for Michael. He’s an absolute dreamboat. I’m so glad I wasn’t held up any longer at the cemetery. I might have missed out on meeting him. Why didn’t you tell me your boss was gorgeous?’
‘I’ve always thought him a bit cold,’ she said carefully.
Lucy threw up her hands in exasperation at her sister’s lack of discernment. ‘Believe me. The guy is hot! He makes me sizzle.’
Elizabeth shrugged. ‘I guess it’s a matter of chemistry. Harry is the hot one for me.’ It wasn’t entirely a lie. He frequently raised her temperature … with anger or annoyance.
Lucy heaved a happy sigh. ‘Brothers and sisters … wouldn’t it be great if we ended up together … all happy families.’
Elizabeth’s mind reeled from even considering such a prospect. ‘I think that’s a huge leap into the future. Let’s just take one day at a time.’
‘Oh, you’re always so sensible, Ellie.’
‘Which is something I value very highly in your sister,’ Michael declared, picking up on Lucy’s words and smiling warmly at Elizabeth as he returned, but he seated himself beside Lucy, who instantly switched on a brilliant smile for him, fulsomely agreeing, ‘Oh, I do, too. But I also want Ellie to have fun.’
‘Which is where I come in,’ Harry said, also catching Lucy’s words as he came back. His eyes danced wicked mischief at Elizabeth. ‘Starting with cocktails. The bartender will bring them over. Here are the peanuts and pretzels.’
He placed a bowl of them on the table and settled himself beside Elizabeth, too closely for her comfort. She wanted to shift away and somehow Harry knew it, instantly throwing her a challenging look that made her sit still and suffer his male animal impact. If she was really attracted to him, she would welcome it. Playing this pretend-game was not going to be easy, but she had to now in front of Lucy.
Her sister turned her smile to Harry. ‘What cocktail did you order for Michael?’
‘A Manhattan. Mickey is highly civilised. He actually forgets about sunshine until it sparkles over him.’
Lucy laughed. ‘And yourself?’
‘Ah, the open sea is my business. I’m a salty man so I share Elizabeth’s taste for Margaritas.’
‘The open sea?’ Lucy queried.
‘Harry looks after the tourist side of Finn’s Fisheries,’ Michael answered. ‘I take care of buying in the stock for all our franchises.’
‘Ah!’ Lucy nodded, understanding why Harry was dressed the way he was and how very different the brothers were.
Why she was attracted to Michael and not Harry was beyond Elizabeth’s understanding. Sunshine and sea should go together. They both had frivolous natures. It wasn’t fair that sexual chemistry had struck in the wrong place. Why couldn’t it strike sensibly?
The bartender arrived with their cocktails.
Harry handed her the Margarita and clicked his glass against hers. ‘Happy Birthday, Elizabeth,’ he said warmly, making her squirm inside even as she forced a smile and thanked him.
The others followed suit with their glasses and well-wishing.
Elizabeth settled back against the cushions and sipped her cocktail, silently brooding over the totally non-sensible ironies of life. Was there any reward for being sensible? The old saying that good things come to those who wait was not proving true for her.
She wondered how long was the life of a butterfly.
Probably very short.
But it might be sweet if she could bring herself to be a butterfly—just cut loose from all her safety nets and fly wild for a while, thinking of nothing but having a good time. She should take a vacation, get right away from whatever was developing between Michael and Lucy, try drowning her misery with mindless pleasures.
The Margarita was good. And it packed quite a punch. Maybe if she stopped being sensible and had two or three of them, her mind would get fuzzy enough to put this whole situation at an emotional distance, let her float through lunch … like a butterfly.
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