Page 103 of Fauxmance

She lifted the glass to her lips and took a tiny sip.

"What do you think?"

"It's fine," she said with a sniff, "but milk and sugar definitely make it better."

Her tone was so haughty, the statement more like a royal decree, that I had to hold back a laugh.

"Agree to disagree, Mrs. Davenport," I said, taking a sip and placing my cup back in its saucer.

She smiled as if I 'd passed some kind of imaginary test.

Taking the napkin to my right, I dabbed my lips then placed it across my lap.

"Where did you and Hayden meet?"

"In an elevator," I said and smiled at her look of disbelief. "Actually, we met before that outside his mother's office, but yeah. We got to know each other in that elevator."

Mrs.Davenport tilted her head. "Is this leading to some kind of tryst? Because if so, I don't know whether I should stop you or hang on to your every word."

Heat rushed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

"Well…I mean, there was a kiss, but we didn't…I mean, nothing really…"

That had her laughing out loud. "I was just teasing you, dear. I don't need the details."

Thank goodness.

"So you met in an elevator," she said as I took a much-needed drink of my tea. "That sounds like the start of a good story."

I shrugged. "It was pretty romantic."

Or it would've been, I thought. If Hayden and I had actually ended up in a relationship instead of pretending.

"This room is awesome," I said mostly to change the subject but also because it was true. I gazed around, taking in the bookshelves filled with books, the little floral couch and two mis-matched comfy chairs, the decorative rugs over hardwood floors, the family pictures on a table, the portrait on the wall.

"You think so?" Mrs. Davenport asked.

"Oh yeah," I said. "My mom would love it. It's bright and open with a feminine touch. There's so much color, so many interesting things to see. I bet you could sit in here for hours and never get tired of all the beauty."

When I looked at her, Mrs.Davenport was staring at the family portrait hanging on the wall. There was a far-off look in her eyes.

"My husband always loved this room," she said. "We spent more time here than anywhere else in the house. He said it reminded him of me. There were…a lot of good memories."

"I bet he was wonderful," I said softly.

"He was."

"Do you miss him?"

"Only every day." She shook herself as if waking from a dream and sent me a reserved smile. "You mentioned your mother. She's the dressmaker, right?"

"Yes," I said. "That's her passion, making people feel good in their clothes and their own skin."

"She made the dress you wore to Phillipa's wedding?"

I nodded, waiting to see what she'd say. Some people loved it, some people said I looked like a harlot. I wondered where Hayden's grandmother would fall on that spectrum.

"A daring choice," she commented.

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