“If you say so.” Maxine grinned. “So, what’s the latest on the engagement? I heard Miss Eleanor actually let Darlene take her shopping for a dress in Sarasota yesterday.”
“Really?” She couldn’t imagine Eleanor being willing to make a fuss over a wedding dress, although she was always impeccably dressed.
“Told Darlene she didn’t want anything fancy, but you know Darlene.” Maxine chuckled. “I’m betting Eleanor comes back with something a lot fancier than she intended.”
“Good for her. She deserves to feel special.”
“Speaking of special.” Maxine gave her a hard look. “What’s going on with you and Cliff? And don’t say nothing because I’ve known you too long to fall for that.”
She sighed, knowing Maxine wouldn’t let it go. “We’re having dinner tonight.”
“A date?” Maxine’s eyes gleamed.
“No, not a date. We’re planning another fundraiser for the hurricane relief fund.”
“Sure, a ‘fundraiser.’” Maxine made air quotes. “Just the two of you, having dinner, planning a ‘fundraiser.’”
“It’s not like that.” But even as she said it, she wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Maxine said with a knowing smile. “You know, it’s okay to admit you still have feelings for him.”
“I don’t…” She stopped. What was the point in denying it? “I don’t know what I feel, Maxine. Some days, I still remember how hurt I was when he left. Other days…”
“Other days, you see the man he’s become,” Maxine finished for her. “And now you know the truth about why he left.”
She nodded. “It’s complicated.”
“Life usually is.” Maxine squeezed her hand. “Just be open to possibilities, okay? Like you said, Eleanor is embracing life. Maybe you should too.”
Beverly stood in front of her closet, examining the contents with a critical eye. What did one wear to a dinner that wasn’t a date but somehow felt like one? She pushed hangers aside, rejecting outfit after outfit. The blue sundress was too casual. The black dress too formal. The white blouse with slacks too businesslike.
“This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself. “It’s just dinner to discuss a fundraiser.”
She glanced at the clock. Five-thirty already. Cliff would be here in half an hour, and she was still in her bathrobe with wet hair from her shower. She pulled out a simple teal dress she hadn’t worn in ages. It had short sleeves and a modest V-neck that highlighted her collarbone without being too revealing. The fabric fell just below her knees, flattering her figure without clinging too tightly.
“This will do,” she decided, laying it on the bed. She quickly blow-dried her hair, letting it fall in loose waves around her shoulders instead of pulling it back as usual.
As she applied a subtle layer of makeup—more than her usual workday routine but not too much—she questioned her own motives. Why was she putting in this extra effort? This wasn’t a date. It was two community-minded people discussing a fundraiser.
Yet her hands trembled slightly as she fastened small silver earrings and spritzed on a light perfume she rarely wore.
“Get a grip, Beverly,” she told her reflection. “You’re acting like a teenager.”
The dress slipped on easily, and she paired it with comfortable but nice sandals. No point in torturing herself with heels on Magnolia Key’s cobblestone streets. She was just fastening her favorite silver bracelet around her wrist when a knock sounded at the door.
Her heart jumped. She glanced at the clock—five minutes to six. Cliff was early. She took a deep breath, smoothed her dress, and made her way to the door.
When she opened it, the sight of him momentarily stole her breath away. He stood on her porch in dark slacks and a light blue button-down shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. His hair was neatly combed, and he’d shaved since this morning.
“Hi,” she said, hating how breathless she sounded.
“Hi.” His eyes swept over her, appreciation evident in his gaze. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Heat crept up her neck. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”
He smiled, and she noticed he was holding something behind his back. “These are for you,” he said, revealing a small bouquet of flowers. “I stole them from Jonah’s garden.” He grinned. “Just kidding. Jonah suggested I pick some.”
“They’re lovely,” she said, taking them. The casual gesture somehow meant more than a formal bouquet would have. “Let me put them in water before we go.”
