Page 17 of A Cornish Wedding Retreat
He kept quiet and waited for her to explain.
‘Is your offer still open?’
Which one?Chad mentally smacked himself. ‘Lunch? Of course it is. Are you free?’
‘Emily says she’ll be fine so I’m taking her at her word.’
Bet that doesn’t happen often. ‘Great. I booked a table for one o’clock if that suits you?’
‘Sure of yourself, weren’t you?’
‘Hey, a guy’s got to eat. If you’d deserted me I’d be having a miserable, solitary lunch.’ He relaxed again when Maggie laughed ‘I’ll pick you up about twelve forty-five.’
‘There’s no need, I can . . .’
‘Stop. Please. I was raised a good Southern boy and if I don’t collect a lady properly for a date and return her safely afterwards my mother and daddy will haunt me forever.’
‘Oh, did you lose your parents too? You never said.’
Chad groaned. ‘I was teasing. My parents are fine.’ This was getting worse by the minute, now he’d made it sound as if them being dead would be a joke. ‘That didn’t come out right.’
‘Look, I’ll be ready. See you later.’ Maggie stopped his rambling in her usual decisive manner.
Next thing he was holding a dead phone and smiling to himself.
* * *
Maggie dragged out an armful of clothes and flung them all over the bed. She hadn’t been on a date for so long she didn’t have a clue what to wear. Maybe she’d ring back and cancel. She could claim she’d been struck down with a sudden illness.
‘It’s only lunch.’ Emily breezed in and dropped down to sit on the bed. ‘Don’t over think everything.’
Someone has to and you never do. ‘How’re you feeling?’
‘Sick. Pregnant.’ Emily nibbled on a cracker, dropping crumbs all over Maggie’s clothes and idly brushing them away. ‘And don’t fret about whether you can leave me alone.’
‘But . . .’
‘But nothing.’ Emily picked up a multi-coloured skirt from the pile. ‘God, this is ugly. Please tell me you’re not wearing this hideous thing?’ She selected another dress, an old summer floral Maggie loved and screwed up her nose. ‘This does nothing for you. For God’s sake give it to the charity shop.’
‘For heaven’s sake pick something.’ Maggie gave up, throwing her hands in the air.
‘Try these.’ A black wraparound skirt and short-sleeved bright pink jumper, both bought recklessly in a sale but never worn, were tossed at her.
Maggie peeled off her bathrobe and picked up the skirt to step into it.
‘Stop right there.’ Emily’s horrified shriek nearly made her wobble over. ‘Please tell me you weren’t going out in that awful ragged underwear?’
She gave an embarrassed glance down over her worn out grey bra and stretchy granny knickers. ‘What difference does it make? We’re simply having Sunday lunch together and I’m not planning to be dished up as the pudding.’
‘I would assume not, but you can’t feel good wearing those disgusting things,’ Emily persisted. ‘Decent underwear gives you confidence from the inside out. Do you have anything that fits and isn’t ten years old?’
Maggie opened the top drawer of her dresser and rifled around. ‘How about these?’ She held up a black lace bra and panty set she’d bought once in the hope of finding someone worth wearing them for.
‘Not bad. They’ll do. Get dressed.’
She did as she was told because it was easier than arguing.
‘What about shoes?’
