senior partner.”
“Oh. Of course.”
Maggie, he could see, was watching the exchange with a lot more interest than the situation merited. After all, he and Allison were ancient history. Prehistoric ancient history. She’d spent their senior year trying to make him into someone he wasn’t. When it hadn’t worked, she’d gone off to college and by Christmastime that year, she and John Fontaine were engaged.
He took a card out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to Maggie. “I’ll let you ladies get on with your makeovers. I’ll be back in the morning to start on that estimate. Meanwhile, if you think of anything else, Miss Meadowcroft, give me a call.”
He headed for the front door, uncomfortably aware of two pairs of eyes on his back.
Chapter Two
The finest-looking rear end Maggie Meadowcroft had ever seen had just walked out the front door and she hadn’t done anything to stop it.
Stop him.
Right. As if a man like him would ever be interested in a woman like her. Besides, he’d be back in the morning to give this old house a good going-over. She finally had the place and the money to make her dream come true—and now she had the world’s sexiest contractor to help her do it! She couldn’t wait to find out more about him, so it was a lucky thing Allison had shown up when she did. Who would know more than an ex-girlfriend?
“It’s great that you could come over,” Maggie said. “I know how busy you are with the kids and everything.”
“Don’t be silly. That conditioner you gave me the other day is incredible. My hair has never felt softer.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Why was everyone always so amazed that natural products were, well, more natural?
Natural or not, Allison looked fabulous. How the woman did it, Maggie would never know. She took care of that big house, her husband and two kids and she always looked liked a cover model. Never a hair out of place. Beautiful clothes. Make that beautiful, expensive clothes.
Maggie would always remember her mother’s reaction when she’d admired a dress in the window of an exclusive shop on the Upper East Side. “Designer clothes will make anyone look good, Maggie, but they don’t change how a person feels about herself. That’s something that comes from the heart.”
She fingered the string of pearls around her neck. Her mother was a wise woman. “Come on into the kitchen,” she said to Allison. “I’m dying to have you try my new mask. It’s pure heaven.”
She seated Allison at the kitchen table and draped a plastic cape over her shoulders. It was one thing to spill this stuff on herself, but ruining Allison’s silk shirt would not be good. “So,” she said, trying to sound casual, “Nick Durrance is a friend of yours?”
“Not anymore. We dated in high school. Of course, at the time I was convinced he was ‘the one.’ I did my best to help him get his life on track but some men just can’t be changed.”
“Hmm. There’s no doubt he’d make an interesting project,” Maggie said, as much to herself as to Allison. She brushed Allison’s hair away from her face and clipped it in place.
“Trust me. Nick is way beyond help. His mother and his sister—even his grandmother—have all tried. God knows, I did. He breaks the heart of every woman who tries to reform him.”
Silly women, Maggie thought. That wasn’t the kind of project she had in mind. “Are you wearing makeup?” she asked.
Allison shook her head. “On the phone you said you wanted to try out a mask, so I thought I should take it off. I can’t imagine what Nick must have thought, seeing me like this.”
That you look as beautiful as ever? “So, tell me about you and Nick,” she said instead.
“There’s nothing to tell,” Allison said a little too quickly.
“Does John know you dated him?”
“Of course. We all went to high school together.”
“I see.” What would Nick have been like back then?
Oh!
Aunt Margaret had a whole collection of Collingwood High School yearbooks upstairs. “When did you graduate?” she asked casually, applying an even layer of the strawberry mask to Allison’s forehead.
“It seems like so long ago. We just had our ten-year reunion. Of course, Nick didn’t bother to show up.”
Interesting. That meant he was about four years older than she was. She smoothed the mask over the rest of Allison’s face.
“What’s this stuff made of?” Allison asked. “It smells good enough to eat.”
“Well, it is edible. I really believe that what we put on our bodies is as important as what we put in them.”
Maggie set the container in the sink and filled it with water. To be totally effective, the mask should stay on for fifteen minutes. She set the timer for ten. She could hardly wait to get Allison out of here so she could go upstairs to find that yearbook.
“Are you comfortable?” she asked.
“I’m fine.”
“These kitchen chairs are pretty unforgiving. I’ll have one of those nice adjustable, reclining chairs in the spa.”
Allison smiled. “How did you come up with this idea?”
“I’m not sure, exactly.” She climbed onto a stool and hooked her heels on the top rung. “I’ve wanted to do this for as long as I can remember but I couldn’t afford to rent a shop in New York.”
“Did you live there all your life?”
Maggie nodded. “Yes, my whole life. My mother lives in the Village. My father was a musician and she is a…” How would Allison react to the truth? Only one way to find out. “She does readings.”
“Oh. You mean, she’s a writer? A poet?” Allison actually sounded interested.
Maggie shook her head. “She’s a clairvoyant.”
Silence. “I see,” she said finally.
Maggie very much doubted she did, since she couldn’t imagine Allison ever consulting one. “She’s very good. She even helped the N.Y.P.D. solve a missing persons case.”
Allison perked up a little. “Oh, now that is amazing. I’ve heard about people who can do that. I’d love to meet her sometime.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will. Gabriella hates leaving the city but now that I’m living here, she’s bound to visit once in a while.” But try as she might, she couldn’t imagine her outlandish mother and her straitlaced neighbor having anything in common. “Tell me more about you and Nick…and John, of course…when you were in high school.”
But apparently Allison didn’t want
