She didn’t understand.
“Romantically.”
She put her glass down a little too fast, making the wine slosh around. She stared at him, hereyes wide.
“Not romantically, precisely.” He seemed lostfor words.
“You thought I might be a gold-digger trying to seduce him?”
He looked up at her, straight, honest.
“You’re not even denying it!” How could someone say that and still look so, so… socourteous?
“Millie, I advertised for a Plain Jane specifically to shield my father from temptation. I was assured by the agency that you were, erm…” He paused, glancing around.
His silence screamedfat, ugly and beige. The memory felt like a slap.
He cleared his throat. “Yet it seems you got here and quickly became, well,notplain.”He smiled.
Why was he smiling? Did he think she was flattered by his backhanded compliment?
How dare he? How bloody dare he suggest she’d been beautifying herself to ensnare an old man?
She kept her mouth shut, with difficulty. Nothing could be gained from giving him a piece of her mind. But she glared daggers at him.
The anger, if she were honest, was in part fuelled by remembered pain. Which wasn’thisfault.
Okay, focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
Better.
Okay, shewas calm.
George was staring at her, his mouth open. “Now I remember where Imet you.”
What? No!
“I’ve been racking my brain for three days trying toremember.”
Bollocks,she’d given herself away.Just when she’d been making a good impression, winning respect and credibility.
“You were the driver of that car, the Nissan Micra?”
Heat flushed up through her neck into her face and to the roots of her hair. What had she screamed at him? Had she called him arrogant? Selfish? No, she’d said something about washing with champagne, and she might have called him Mr BMW.Oh, nooooo.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t remember.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. She made herself speak up. “I can’t imagine what I must have looked like shouting in the street.”
George blinked but didn’t speak.
She exhaled a long breath, heavy with recollection “It’s not a day I like to think about, probably the worst day of my whole life.”
He opened his mouth, but then he closedit again.
She tried for a smile and failed. “I was at a very low ebb, so whatever I said, I’m sorry.”
His face coloured, and he pushed back his chair. “Excuse mea minute.”
And he walked away from the table, past the glass light installation thing and all the way out of the restaurant.
