For her own self-satisfaction and sense of worth. Absolutely nothing to do with the male sex at all. No way.
When they walked into Oxford Street and Blaine raised his hand and a taxi skidded to an immediate halt, Maisie wasn’t surprised. He was that sort of man.
Blaine helped both women into the taxi and then sat down beside Maisie, who was horrified to discover she was positioned beside him. Ridiculous, truly ridiculous, but she hadn’t wanted to be so near him. She tried not to mind that she could feel his thigh against hers and that his arm along the back of the seat seemed curiously intimate.
He was wearing a pale blue shirt with the cuffs folded back and light cotton trousers, and as Maisie breathed in she caught the faint tang of a delicious aftershave. It made her wonder if she’d put on perfume that morning; she couldn’t remember. Anyway, now was hardly the time to sniff her wrists to find out.
Her stomach lurched as he stretched out his legs slightly before turning in his seat and addressing Jackie over her head. ‘I would like to buy your mother some flowers to thank her for her hospitality. Perhaps you could tell the driver to stop for a moment at an appropriate florist?’
‘Yes, of course. There’s a nice shop on the outskirts of Bethnal Green; we’ll be there shortly and it’s only a couple of minutes from home.’
Although Jackie had spoken normally, Maisie could tell that her friend was a little flustered. It made her wonder just how awkward things had been between Jackie’s father and his younger brother. Whatever, it looked to be a great afternoon!
‘So, Maisie, you have a sensible job which means you do not have to work on a Saturday?’ Blaine asked in the next moment in an obvious attempt to make small talk and not because he was really interested in the reply.
Maisie made the mistake of glancing at him as she opened her mouth to reply. Across the table in the booth he had been pretty devastating, an inch or two away the effect was magnified a hundredfold. Her confusion prevented the careful reply she would have given if she hadn’t been so flustered—something like, As a veterinary nurse I work every fourth weekend but that’s all right, I enjoy it. As it was, she blurted out, ‘I don’t have a job.’
‘No?’ Black eyebrows rose. ‘You are a lady of leisure?’
He made it sound like a lady of the night. She decided she had been absolutely right in her first impression of Blaine Morosini; the man was a pig. ‘I left my last job yesterday,’ she said, very stiffly. ‘I’m going for a couple of interviews this week, as it happens.’
‘I see.’
It was obvious that he didn’t but Maisie was blowed if she was going to elaborate. Let him think what he liked.
Jackie, however, had different ideas. ‘Maisie is a veterinary nurse,’ she said helpfully. ‘She’s absolutely wonderful with animals, aren’t you, Maisie, but owing to a bit of, well, domestic difficulty, she couldn’t stay at her job any more.’
This was getting ridiculous. ‘My ex-fiancé was also the owner of the practice where I worked,’ Maisie said shortly. ‘And I can get another job easily enough.’
Blaine nodded. ‘I see,’ he said again.
And he probably did this time. Unfortunately. Maisie suddenly found Blaine Morosini was the last person in the world she wanted sympathy or pity from. Not that she was going to get any, she found out in the next moment.
‘What happens if you do not get another job as easily as you think?’ he asked interestedly. ‘Would this be a problem?’
Oh, no, of course it wouldn’t. I mean, I look like the daughter of a Rothschild, don’t I? Dripping diamonds, hair and clothes designer level. Struggling to keep the irritation out of her voice, Maisie said, ‘I will get a job.’
He studied her with unfathomable eyes. ‘This is good,’ he said lazily. ‘The confidence. I like this.’
She really didn’t care what he liked.
It was at this point that Jackie said hastily, ‘Here’s that shop I spoke of coming up, Blaine. She leant forward and tapped on the glass separating them from the driver, saying, ‘Could you stop here for a minute, please? Outside Bloomingdales, the flower shop on the corner.’
After Blaine had exited the cab the two women sat in silence for some moments before Jackie said in a small voice, ‘Sorry.’
Maisie didn’t try to pretend she didn’t understand. She shrugged, forcing a smile. ‘I presume you’d already told him I’d just split from Jeff?’
Jackie nodded. ‘No details, though,’ she said hastily.
‘I’d gathered that.’
‘Sorry,’ said Jackie again.
‘Don’t worry.’ This time Maisie’s smile was natural. Jackie had sounded like a chastised child. ‘Jeff did dump me, he is with Camellia and I have left my job without securing another one first. Not the most sensible thing, I know, as your uncle so kindly intimated.’
‘You don’t like him.’
Did a worm like a blackbird? ‘I don’t know him,’ Maisie prevaricated. Neither did she want to.
‘I didn’t at first,’ Jackie whispered, although apart from the driver, who was reading a newspaper, they were alone. ‘Especially because he and Dad haven’t hit it off, but the more I’ve got to know him the more I’ve found he’s just very straightforward. Calls a spade a spade.’
In her fragile state she could do without garden implements and any normal person would realise that. Maisie ignored the fact that she had been moaning to herself all week about being treated with kid gloves by everyone. ‘I’ll take your word for that,’ she said drily.
The flower shop door opened and they watched an enormous bouquet beneath which stretched a pair of legs walk to the taxi. Once inside the vehicle the gigantic bunch of pale lemon roses, white and lemon freesias and Baby’s Breath filled all the available space.
‘Wow.’ Jackie was impressed. ‘Mum’ll go ape when you give her that.’
Blaine smiled. ‘Your mother has been very kind to me.’
Yeah, right. And the fact that a massive bunch of flowers like this might annoy Jackie’s dad had nothing to do with it? Immediately the thought materialised, Maisie felt ashamed. She was turning into a right sour crab, she admitted silently. The flowers were a lovely gesture and probably Blaine’s motives had been entirely honourable. Probably.
She hadn’t been aware she was frowning until Blaine said mildly, ‘You do not like flowers, Maisie?’
The delicious Italian accent—and OK, Maisie grudgingly acknowledged, it was sexy too—gave her name a peculiar little twist and she didn’t like what it did to her nerve-endings. ‘Yes, of course I like flowers,’ she said evenly.
‘You think these are not right for Jackie’s mother?’
‘I didn’t say that. No, they’re fine. I’m sure she will love them.’
‘Good.’ He settled
