settled on a pear, walnut and gorgonzola salad to start, followed by mushroom strudels with a tarragon cream sauce, and then margarita ice cream with chocolate-dipped strawberries. Allegra had been pleased with it, but after several practice runs, she had strudel coming out of her ears and she couldn’t face another chocolate-dipped strawberry, which wasn’t something she ever thought she would say.
‘I’m all set,’ said Max. ‘I just need to change.’
‘I’ll make the living room look nice,’ Allegra volunteered. Max was supposed to be thinking about that as well, but when she had suggested it he had just looked blank.
At least everything was tidy, the way it always was when Max was around. Allegra set out candles and plumped up the cushions before putting on the playlist of romantic music she had compiled specially. Max didn’t have a clue about music or romance, so she’d known better than to suggest that he did it.
She was lighting candles when he came back. ‘It’s a bit gloomy in here, isn’t it?’ he said, looking around. ‘Darcy won’t be able to see what she’s eating.’
‘It’s not gloomy. It’s romantic.’
Allegra straightened from the candles and studied Max, who had replaced his checked shirt with one in a dark mulberry colour that shrieked expensive and stylish. He was wearing new black jeans too, and all in all he was looking mighty fine. So fine, in fact, that she forgot about the match burning in her hand.
‘Ouch!’ Allegra shook the match from her hand and sucked her finger. ‘Is that the shirt Dickie picked out for you?’ she asked, covering her sudden confusion by bending to pick up the match.
‘Of course.’ Max plucked at it in distaste. ‘You wouldn’t catch me buying a red shirt, but Dickie insisted.’
‘He was right. You look good,’ said Allegra honestly. She tossed the blackened match into the bin and turned back to face him. She had herself back under control. ‘If I could just make one teeny change...?’
Without waiting for Max to agree, she walked over and undid another button at his throat. Ignoring his protests, she turned her attention to his cuffs, unfastening them and rolling them up above his wrists.
But standing so close to him was making her feel a bit light-headed, and she was excruciatingly conscious of her fingertips grazing his forearms with their fine, flat hairs. The air had shortened, making her heart pound ridiculously. She wanted to say something light, something casual to break the atmosphere, but her mind was a blank and she didn’t dare meet Max’s eyes in case...
In case what?
In case he kissed her. In case she kissed him.
Allegra swallowed hard. This was silly. She’d just got over that mad period when she’d been so inexplicably conscious of him. The last few days had been fine, cooking, talking easily, sniping at each other, laughing with each other. They’d dutifully practised the basic waltz step and even seemed to be getting the hang of it. It had been just like the old days.
And now he’d put on a new shirt and that awful thump was back in her belly. Allegra didn’t like it one little bit.
Clearing her throat, she patted the second sleeve into place and stepped back. ‘There, that’s better,’ she said.
Max immediately started fidgeting with his cuffs. ‘It looks so messy like this,’ he complained until Allegra had to slap his hands away.
‘Leave them! Those cuffs are the difference between looking like a nerd and looking like a hunk.’
‘A hunk?’ Max echoed, revolted.
‘Okay, not a hunk,’ she amended, ‘but more normal, anyway. Like you might possibly have some social skills. And, talking of which,’ she said as she struck another match to light the rest of the candles, ‘remember this evening’s about making Darcy feel really special. Ask her lots of questions about what she does and how she feels about things.’
‘Yeah, yeah, we’ve been through this,’ said Max, straightening the knives and forks on the table.
Allegra blew out the match and admired the way the flames danced above the candles. ‘Are you sure it’s all under control in the kitchen?’
‘Positive. I wrote out a time plan, and I don’t need to do anything until seventeen minutes after she arrives.’
‘Right. Seventeen minutes. Because you wouldn’t want to eat a minute later than scheduled, would you?’ Allegra rolled her eyes, but Max was unfazed.
‘You’re the one who wants the meal to be a success,’ he pointed out. He looked at his watch yet again. ‘Shouldn’t she be here by now?’
‘I sent a car. I hope she’s not going to be late. We can’t really have a drink until she gets here, and I’m gasping for one.’
‘We could practice our waltz steps,’ Max suggested without any enthusiasm, but Allegra jumped up.
‘That’s a great idea. We need to be able to wow Cathy with our progress next week.’
They had practised several times now and it no longer felt uncomfortable to rest one hand on his shoulder, or to feel his arm around her waist. They set off briskly, moving their feet around an invisible box, the way Cathy had taught them, while Allegra hummed an approximation of a waltz.
‘Hey, we’re getting good at this,’ Max said after a while. ‘Shall we try a turn?’
Allegra was up for it but, the moment they tried to do something different, their feet got muddled up and they stumbled. Disentangling themselves, they tried again. This time they managed so well that Max got fancy. They were both elated at their success and, laughing, he spun her round and dipped her over his arm with a flourish.
And there it would have ended if they hadn’t made the mistake of looking into each other’s eyes. They could have straightened, still laughing, and it would have been fine.
But no! Their eyes had to lock so that the laughter evaporated without warning, leaving their smiles to fade. Allegra was still bent ridiculously over Max’s arm but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. The air felt as if it was tightening around them, squeezing out all the oxygen, and her pulse was booming and thudding. She couldn’t have moved if she had tried.
Later, she wondered if she had imagined the fact that Max’s head had started to move down to hers. Certainly at the time she didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed when the shrill of the doorbell jerked them both out of their daze.
‘Darcy!’ Flustered, Allegra pulled out of Max’s hold and smoothed down her hair. What was she doing? She had forgotten all about the article for a few moments there.
Allegra had forgotten quite how beautiful Darcy was. Max greeted her at the door and when he showed her in she seemed to light up the room. Her blonde hair fell over one shoulder in a fishtail braid that looked casual but must have taken her hours to achieve, and her skin glowed. She was wearing an electric-blue dress that showed off her stupendous figure. If Allegra wasn’t much mistaken, the dress was from a high street chain rather than a designer but Darcy made it look stunning. From her bee-stung lips to the tips of her Christian Louboutin shoes—no whiff of the high street there—she was perfect.
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