Page 17

I have a date.

The dutch oven was going into the oven when I got her reply.

Megan

Got off early. On my way.

She sent another right away, proving how well she knew me.

Megan

Do not cancel before I get there.

I shook my head with a laugh.

Me

I’ll try not to, but be warned…dinner won’t be ready for a few hours.

The townhouse felt more like home as I let her inside thirty minutes later. “Come on in.”

“Mmm, something smells good.” She flashed me a smile and thrust a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon into my hand. “Hopefully this will go with dinner.”

I glanced at the label. “It’s a perfect match. The high tannins and full body will complement the richness of the meal.”

“The one good thing that came from nine years married to that man is your brilliance with wine.”

Megan refused to say Harrison’s name, but at least she’d stopped using colorful swear words once the divorce was finalized. “I’ll concede I learned more after we met, but I’m going with proximity to the winery instead of giving the Cromwells credit for anything.”

“Good because they don’t deserve any.”

She followed me into the kitchen and grabbed two wineglasses from the cabinet. Then she took the bottle opener from a drawer. The kitchen was small, so we maneuvered around each other while I worked on the meal and she let the wine breathe, snagging a soda from the fridge.

After chugging half of it down, she leaned a hip against the counter. “Ahh, better. I was dying of thirst. Now spill.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.” I tapped my foot against the tile. “I just mopped this yesterday.”

She set down the can and planted her fists on her hips. “Ha ha, very funny. You know what I meant. Stop procrastinating and tell me about the date. And the guy who got you to agree to one.”

“Julian Hayes. Serena and Hudson’s lawyer.”

Her eyes widened. “Wait. Didn’t you cook for their dinner party on Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Girl, you have some explaining to do.” She wagged her finger at me. “You broke best friend code by not telling me about the hot guy until two days later.”

“How do you know he’s hot?”

“That’s the part you jumped on?” she cried before closing the short distance between us to grip my shoulders. “You wouldn’t have been tempted enough to actually agree to dinner unless the sparks were too big to ignore.”

“Good guess.”

I filled her in on everything, then poured us each a glass of wine.

“I should’ve brought two bottles.” She took a sip. “Or champagne, so we could properly celebrate you getting back into the dating game.”

“I’m not sure there’s anything to celebrate. I don’t know what I’m doing, Megan.”