Page 46 of Captivated
“Exactly what I said. It seemed to put George in a better frame of mind. Or maybe it was the tip.”
“So what has George brought us?” She wandered over to the table. “Endive salad.”
“The radicchio—”
“Was off. I heard. Mmm. Lobster tails.”
“À la Maurice.”
“Naturally.” She smiled over her shoulder as Nash pulled out her chair. “Is there a Maurice?”
“George was sorry to report that he’s been dead for three years. But his spirit lives on.”
She laughed and began to enjoy her food. “This is very inventive takeout.”
“I’d considered a bucket of chicken, but I thought this would impress you more.”
“It does.” She dipped a bite of lobster in melted butter, watching him as she slipped it between her lips. “You set a very attractive stage.” Her hand brushed lightly over his. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” The fact was, he was hoping there’d be dozens of other times, dozens of other stages. With the two of them, just the two of them, as the only players.
He caught himself, annoyed that he was thinking such serious thoughts. Such permanent thoughts. To lighten the mood, he poured more champagne.
“Morgana?”
“Yes.”
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” He brought her hand to his lips, finding her skin much more alluring than the food. “Is Mrs. Littleton’s niece going to the prom?”
She blinked first, then threw her head back with a rich laugh. “My God, Nash, you’re a romantic.”
“Just curious.” Because he couldn’t resist the way her eyes danced, he grinned. “Okay, okay. I like happily-ever-after as well as the next guy. Did she get her man?”
Morgana sampled another bite. “It seems Jessie worked up the courage to ask Matthew if he’d like to go to the prom with her.”
“Good for her. And?”
“Well, I have this all secondhand from Mrs. Littleton, so it may not be precisely accurate.”
Nash leaned forward to flick a finger down her nose. “Listen, babe, I’m the writer. You don’t have to pause for dramatic effect. Spill it.”
“My information is that he blushed, stuttered a bit, pushed up these cute horn-rim glasses he wears, and said he guessed so.”
Solemnly Nash raised his glass. “To Jessie and Matthew.”
Morgana lifted her own. “To first love. It’s the sweetest.”
He wasn’t sure about that, since he’d been so successful in avoiding the experience. “What happened to your high school sweetheart?”
“What makes you think I had one?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
Morgana acknowledged that with a faint cock of her brow. “Actually, there was one boy. His name was Joe, and he played on the basketball team.”
“A jock.”
“I’m afraid Joe was second-string. But he was tall. Height was important to me in those days, as I loomed over half the boys in my class. We dated on and off through senior year.” She sipped her wine. “And did a lot of necking in his ’72 Pinto.”
