Her phone lit on the bar and she gave it a quick glance. “Oh, one sec.”
After reading her phone, she said, “Priss is at Penny’s. She’ll be home tomorrow after school. Sorry, Penny is one of her friends. Anyway, that was a group text from Penny’s mom saying they’re all okay.”
I smiled, thinking it was sweet how involved she was with her daughter.
“No problem,” I told her and meant it. I was never going to come between her and Priscilla.
“Do you mind if I scroll through the pictures real quick?”
“Go ahead,” I said, nodding toward her phone and then taking a swig of my drink.
“Okay,” she said a few seconds later, putting the phone back down. “I saw proof of life, and now I can breathe better.”
“To breathing,” I told her, and she raised her glass.
“So, the tux?”
“I had an event upstairs. A colleague of mine was receiving an award, but he won’t notice I ducked out.”
Her hand landed on my knee, and I’m not going to lie. My body woke up.
“Oh no. I didn’t mean to take you away from something important.”
“Never. This is way more fun,” I said, and I meant it.
“Well, you look pretty good.” Her hand moved across my knee and back again, her palm lighting my body on fire.
“You look pretty damn good too. So good, I’d like to eat you up ... but let’s get some real food,” I said with a smirk, trying to joke.
“You’re making the whole take-it-slow argument very hard to accept,” Margo said, then grabbed her drink to wash down her words.
“Is that so?”
She nodded.
“Well, we are taking it slow. Like it or not.”
She ran a hand through her hair, and her blouse fell open at her cleavage, showing me exactly why I didn’t want to take it slow.
“What do you say? Some food?” I asked instead of taking her back to my place.
“Sounds perfect.”
We leaned in so close, our heads were almost touching as we read the menu together.
“Fries?” she asked with a grin. “I’m in the mood to be bad.”
“If that’s your kind of bad, I don’t want to be good,” I said.
This set her off into a fit of laughter that continued all through my calling Wes over and ordering. I added a flatbread and some shrimp.
“You know what? Bring some of those lamb meatballs too,” I said, and Wes was off to do his thing. Once he was gone, I turned back to Margo. “What’s up now on your writing agenda?”
“Really? You want to know?”
“Really. I want to know it all.”
“I’m almost done with all the preliminary interviews on the fashion piece, and now I’m sketching out some pitches. This whole meet and greet with Dale ...”
