Page 63 of The Suitcase Swap

Sophie nodded. ‘He’s cooking.’

‘He sure is,’ Marisa said, fanning herself.

Sophie laughed. ‘Do you need me around tonight, darling? I can always postpone—’

‘Don’t you dare,’ Marisa said. ‘I’ll have a quiet night with Tom. It will be good for us.’

‘You let me know if you change your mind,’ Sophie said. ‘I can reschedule in an instant. Mike will understand.’ And wasn’t that a grand thing to know? Sophie realized that she could tell Edie at least one fun thing about being mature – you could rest easy in the knowledge that your date really would understand and not take their feelings of disappointment out on you. It seemed like the lowest of bars, but her ex wouldn’t have been able to clear it.

‘I appreciate it,’ Marisa said. ‘But I want you to go have some fun. You deserve it. Here’s hoping Mike can give it to you.’

Sophie held out her croissant. ‘I’ll cheers to that.’

Marisa tapped a piece of cherry turnover against the croissant and smiled.

Chapter Nineteen

Mike prepped for his date like some men planned for the apocalypse. He’d gone into work early and skipped lunch so he could leave with enough time to prepare. He bought the ingredients for dinner, three different kinds of wine, and a few things for a cheese plate. He cleaned his flat, going so far as to get some flowers for the table. Then he showered, shaved and put on cologne. He was standing there in his boxer briefs, his bottom lip between his teeth, when the nerves really hit.

He had no idea what to wear. Go casual with jeans and T-shirt? No, that didn’t seem right. He hated polo shirts, so those were out. A suit? A suit was probably too much. He ran his hands over his face and groaned. These were decisions he usually didn’t fuss much over. He put the effort in, of course, but Sophie . . . he wanted to be more for Sophie.

He checked the time. Six. Making it eleven in London. Mike grabbed his phone and typed furiously into the group chat, thankful that his family tended to be night owls.

Mike: Help. SOS. Or maybe SOD?

Rahul: What on earth is an SOD?

Amaya: You should know, brother, you are one.

Rahul: Oh, ha ha. You missed your calling, sister. Should’ve gone into stand-up.

Noah: Play nice, children. Did you miss the part that said, ‘Help’?

Mike: Save Our Date. I was trying to be clever.

Rahul: Well, that was your first mistake.

Amaya: Shut up, Rahul – DAD HAS A DATE. Is it Sophie? Please let it be Sophie.

Mike: Who else would it be?

Amaya: I don’t know, some local skank. Who knows what he’s getting up to over there unattended.

Rahul: And you call yourself a feminist.

Noah: We only support home grown, organic skanks.

Amaya: Feminism is here for the skanks, too. I love skanks. Though I’m not sure I meant to imply that Sophie was one.

Mike: I’m once again regretting summoning the group chat for help.

Amaya: Sorry, Dad! What’s going on? How can Barney and I support you in your hour of need?

Rahul: Getting a little concerned about you and that plant.

Noah: Focus.

Rahul: Ficus?

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