The Girls Of Mischief Bay. Susan Mallery
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when they get out of school. I have the kids this weekend, but they’re spending a night with my folks.”
“So no curfew.”
“Don’t. You’re only teasing.”
“Yes, I am.”
Conversation shifted to his work and the big hotel project. As he described it, Shannon felt as if she’d heard a conversation like this before.
“Do you know John Eiland?” she asked.
“John? Sure. His company is installing all the plumbing. Why?”
“I know them. Pam and I are friends and I hang out at their house every now and then. I’ve been to the big Memorial Day barbecue they have.”
“No way. Was last year your first one, because it’s the only one I’ve missed. I’ve been going since I was a kid and I would have remembered you.”
She laughed. “It was my first. I met Pam at Mischief in Motion. It’s an exercise studio. We take a class together three days a week.”
He shook his head. “What I would pay to see you work out.”
“Really?”
“Too much? Sorry. I’ll get my mind back in the game. John’s a great guy. And Pam’s a sweetie. She reminds me of my mom.”
“What are your thoughts on Lulu?” she asked. “Cutest dog ever or frightening genetic experiment?”
“A test. Okay, I’m good at these. Um, great personality, very well trained and the weirdest-looking dog, ever. What’s up with the clothes?”
“She’s naked. She gets cold.” Shannon sipped her wine. “And I agree with you. I love Lulu, but the spots, the pink skin. It’s not natural. Dogs should shed. It’s nature’s way of keeping us humble.”
Their first course arrived. Caviar on some kind of leaf with three drizzled sauces. There were also tiny shaved white things—turnips, so they said.
Adam stared at the dish. “You first.”
She grinned. “So you’re not the wild adventurer type.”
“I can be. But turnip and caviar? Who thought that up?”
“The famous chef in the back.” She lifted the leaf and took a bite. The saltiness blended with the faint bitterness of the leaf, while the shaved turnip piece was surprisingly sweet.
“It’s really good.”
Adam looked doubtful but followed her lead. He chewed and swallowed. “I don’t hate it.”
“Then you need to write a review.” She looked around the restaurant. “Pam and John came here for their last anniversary. They are such a great couple. I love watching them together. It makes me believe that true love is possible.”
“Otherwise you don’t believe?” he asked.
“Not exactly. I think it’s hard for people to stay together. I’ve never gotten married. You’re divorced. My friend Nicole, she’s the owner of Mischief in Motion, is having trouble in her marriage right now.”
“That’s never easy,” Adam said. “What’s going on?”
“Her husband decided to write a screenplay. Only he didn’t discuss it with her first. He just quit his job. He hasn’t worked in nearly a year. They have an almost five-year-old and Eric barely helps out at all. I feel so badly for her, and I have no idea what to say. It’s hard.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“Thanks. I try. Now, tell me about your kids,” she urged.
He smiled. “They’re great. Char—Charlotte—is going to be nine in a couple of months. Sometimes I swear she’s pushing thirty instead. She’s bossy and she would draw blood to protect her little brother. She loves anything princess-related and can’t wait to start wearing makeup. She’s beautiful and I’m terrified to think about her starting to like boys.”
He paused. “Oliver is my little man. He’s all boy. He likes trucks, building things and breaking things. He’s six. He’ll be seven this summer.”
She could hear the love and pride in his voice, which was very appealing. She’d dated plenty of guys who didn’t seem that interested in the families they’d already created. “Do you like having them half the time?”
“I’d rather have them all the time, but I accept the compromise.”
“Are you and your ex friendly?”
“We get along. I regret that my marriage failed, but I don’t miss our relationship, if that makes sense.”
“It does. I like that you don’t call her names.”
“Why would I? I married her and chose to have children with her. Calling her names means I’m the moron.”
Their server appeared to remove their plates. Conversation flowed easily throughout the rest of the meal. It was after ten when she and Adam left the restaurant. He handed her ticket to the valet, then pulled her to the side of the waiting area.
“I had a great time tonight,” he told her.
“Me, too.”
“Next time maybe you’ll let me pick you up. You know, like a real date.”
She smiled. “Next time I will.” She leaned in and lightly kissed him. His mouth was firm and warm. She drew back. “You have the kids this week, right? So we’ll keep in touch by text?”
He looked startled. “You’re okay with that?”
“Sure. It’s way too soon for them to know about me.”
“Thanks for understanding. Or to repeat myself…wow.”
She laughed.
He put his arm on her waist and drew her against him. “About that sleeping together thing.”
“Not a chance.”
“You’re amazing.”
“You are the only man I know who would say that after being told he isn’t getting laid.”
“I’m special.”
“You are.”
She had more to say but he kissed her and suddenly talking seemed highly overrated. His mouth lingered. Had they been anywhere else, she would have wanted a little more. But they were outside at a valet stand, waiting for their cars. This wasn’t the time to get into tongue.
She heard a car engine and stepped back. “That’s me,” she said, pointing at her convertible. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Promise.”
Shannon got in her car and drove away. As she headed for home, she thought about the tingles and the quivers. How just being with Adam made her feel good. This was so much better than the post sex-with-Quinn drive of shame. Something she had to remember.
* * *
Pam typed quickly on the laptop in Nicole’s small office, while Nicole sat in the chair beside the desk and waited for the news.
When she’d first bought Mischief in Motion, she’d only been able to afford basic remodeling and had put every penny into the studio itself. Her small down payment had been supplemented by money from a business angel network called Moving Women Forward. They’d given her advice along with start-up funds.
With no money left over for something as frivolous as an office, she’d made do with what she had. Her six-by-eight work space was little more than a human cubby, with a desk, two chairs and an overly bright light fixture.
Not that it mattered much to her. She was in her office as little as possible. Technology allowed all