Maggie loved the photos. Alex and Nick looked fabulous in the bespoke Harris Tweed jackets she’d commissioned for them. Tall and aloof, they were pictured with the red-headed models against a backdrop of perfect blue sky. In the foreground it was a market scene. There were crates of apples and tomatoes and one of the girls was holding a huge bunch of helium balloons. Behind them a steel and glass skyscraper was silhouetted against the blue.
“Well done us,” Hannah corrected. “I’m loving the colors in those Scottish tweeds. The guys’ look is awesome.”
“Some might argue that the guys are always awesome,” Maggie quipped.
“Sure,” Hannah smiled. “But in our photos, they’re beyond awesome. They’ll love this at the magazine. These pictures are going to knock their readers’ socks off.”
Hannah folded her arms and studied Maggie with a shrewd look on her face. “That was some story Nick and Alex told at lunch. You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife. What’s the deal with you and Alex? Do I detect a hint of romance in the air? Were you two more than just friends back then?”
Now that she was over the embarrassment, she quite liked that Alex had fessed up to having been friends. The difficult part was that she’d failed spectacularly to prove to herself that, ten years on, she was no longer affected by him. She wasn’t handling her attraction at all well, but Hannah didn’t need to know that.
Maggie chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head. “Nope,” she said with conviction. She curled the fingers of her left hand into her palm. “Just friends.”
Alex sat in the hotel cocktail lounge watching for Maggie. He had a perfect view across the lobby to the elevators. He looked at his watch. Where was she?
He took a slug of mineral water. And waited. This stake-out was probably a bad idea. He’d give it five more minutes, then he’d quit. Knowing she was around here someplace felt good. The prospect of seeing her again turned him stupidly cheerful.
He spotted her, dressed in black, kitten heels clicking on the marble floor. Stroke of luck, she was heading for the cocktail bar – alone.
“Maggie,” he called. She spun on her heels and her hazel eyes met his for an nth of a second. “Where’ve you been? You’re a workaholic!”
“I’ve been returning the things I borrowed for today’s shoot. I got a bit of a rollicking. One of the models got make-up on her collar and we lost a button.” She dumped her bags on the floor and sank into a chair, frazzled. “Then I was going through the clothes for the Cape Cod shoot tomorrow and realized I’d forgotten leather belts. So, I’ve been talking nicely to a PR in one of the other big stores.”
“Like I said, you work too hard. Nick and I could have worn our own belts.”
“Models’ own!” Maggie laughed. “Why didn’t I think of that? Anyway, it’s sorted now. The PR was lovely.” She gave a knowing smile. “Naturally, when she heard they were for Jarvis and Jago she let me borrow exactly what I needed.”
“Buy you a drink?” A shadow crossed Maggie’s face.
“I shouldn’t really. I should just grab a bottle of mineral water and run. I’m really busy. I need to look over the brief for tomorrow.”
Was she making excuses? He could swear she was avoiding making eye contact with him. “Go on. Live dangerously.” She grimaced. “Chill and have a cocktail. You deserve it.”
She bit her glossy bottom lip. He hoped she was contemplating caving.
“Since you’re offering …” She arched a brow. “…Why not?” She held up a finger and sucked in a breath as if something important had just occurred to her. “Can we make it alcohol-free? I – um – need to stay off the booze.”
A strip of pink neon light illuminated the wall behind the bar. A pop of contemporary color in the midst of the otherwise Edwardian elegance, it sent a glow into the room. In the far corner a pianist effortlessly played something jazzy on a baby grand. The wood on the piano’s lifted lid shone with a mirror-like polish. Waiting for the barman to pour the cocktails, Alex took a mental snapshot. Being here with Maggie was like being lifted out of his life and dropped into another world. Not the past exactly. That was a closed door. But somewhere familiar.
He signed for the drinks and took Maggie her cocktail.
“I got you this. Try not to be too under-whelmed.” He set a Martini glass down in front of her. It included a cocktail stick with a row of multi-colored gummy bears impaled upon it. “Passion fruit and pomegranate.”
Maggie stared. “Wow, a gummy-bear cocktail?” She picked it up, turned the stem of the glass between her fingers, and admired the little bears like pretty jewels. “You know the way to a girl’s heart.”
“Don’t blame me if it’s awful,” he added, “The barman recommended it. It’s his teen special.” He sat down next to her. He’d like to get to know her. She’d been part of a carefree time when the only real problem was finding two clean socks that matched; no difficult choices. His parents’ fights had stopped for a while, and he’d been left to his own devices. Things had been easier. “I’d go easy on the gummy bears if I were you.”
“Ohhh-kay.”
She stretched out the syllables and stared off in the direction of the music. Why wouldn’t she look him in the face? She seemed spiky. Maybe it was the jetlag.
“Cheers. I’m glad we’re here.” He clinked her glass and captured her gaze, determined not to let her look away. “Doing this.”
She drew in an indignant breath. “About that Santa costume stuff. In future I’d appreciate it if you didn’t regale my co-workers with the details of your trip down memory lane.” She was looking at him with raised eyebrows and she’d somehow managed to set her lips in a thin, disapproving line.
“It was a very sexy Santa costume, if my memory serves me well.” Was she blushing? She’d gone all buttoned-up again.
“Frankly, it was a little bit slutty. I wouldn’t be seen dead in anything like that these days.”
Pity!
Maggie bit the head off a gummy bear. “It may be news to you, but I have a professional image to maintain.”
So, that’s what this was about? Her image? She glared fixedly at her hands. He’d spotted her bright-yellow nails and caught himself wondering if there was a set of brightly colored underwear lurking under her clothes. All her outfits were in black, white and grey. The hint of deep-pink silk he’d inadvertently seen on the plane was enticing, but black was good, white too. He was inappropriately preoccupied with her lingerie possibilities. And the laid-back, colorful person she used to be. What had happened to her? She’d moved on. It was time he got his head around that. “I’m sorry,” he said, “We didn’t mean to embarrass you. Nick and I got carried away. The last thing I want to do is offend you.”
Finally, she met his eyes.
He held her gaze again, determined not to be the first one to look away. “It was a long time ago. I doubt anyone paid much attention. Things like that go in one ear and out the other. It’s not like I told them we slept together.”
“Yes – about that.” She pulled the remaining gummy bears off the cocktail stick and arranged them in a neat little row in her palm. “A line needs to be drawn. First off, we didn’t sleep together. We fell asleep together. There’s a difference.” The cool exterior intrigued him. His vibrant friend had morphed into Monochrome Magenta, all-purpose style adviser. He shouldn’t be the least bit affected by her. But the hot hints