Sympathetic Magic(38)

Then again, if the weather did get really bad, he could think of worse things than being trapped in his house with Margot Emory for a few days….





8





The whole time they were at Lowell Observatory, the clouds moved in slowly, inexorably. It stayed dry, however, and since they were really there to tour the grounds and see a couple of the presentations, it didn’t matter much that the day had become so overcast. Lucas had told her the staff at Lowell did solar observations right at noon, but since they’d gotten to the site sometime after four, that didn’t affect Lucas and Margot’s plans.

Afterward, they drove back to his house. It was now past six-thirty, and the sun had already set. Margot was somewhat surprised that they hadn’t headed back downtown for dinner, but she decided to roll with it. After all, Lucas had told her he had something special planned for dinner, so he obviously knew what he was doing. Maybe he did expect her to change so they could go back out someplace that required a bit more dressing up than jeans and a sweater, although from what she’d seen so far today, the populace of Flagstaff rivaled Jerome’s in terms of utter casualness. She’d noticed that Lucas had sent a text right before they got in the car to leave the observatory parking lot; maybe he was confirming a reservation or something.

They pulled into the driveway, and she immediately saw the white van parked off to one side, where it wouldn’t block any of the garage bays. “Friend of yours?” she inquired, nodding toward the vehicle.

“Something like that,” he said easily. “You’ll see.”

He pulled into the garage and turned off the engine, and they both got out and headed into the house. When they entered the kitchen, Margot stopped dead in shock. A man and a woman were at work there, putting together what clearly looked like quite an elaborate dinner.

“Lucas?” she asked.

He grinned. “I said I had something special planned for dinner. I thought it would be more fun to eat in, but as I didn’t want to poison you, I had Jeff and Claire come in to do the heavy lifting.”

“Good call,” the man — Jeff — said. “Considering he can barely fry an egg.” He returned his attention to Lucas and added, “Give us about fifteen minutes.”

“No problem.”

Somewhat bemused, Margot followed Lucas out of the kitchen and past the dining room, where she saw the table had already been set with gleaming warm-toned china and glittering crystal. She looked up at him. “You do think of everything, don’t you?”

“I try to.” He didn’t wait for her to reply, but went on, “We have a little time. I don’t expect you to dress for dinner or anything, but if you want to freshen up a bit — ”

“I do.” Actually, she thought dressing for dinner sounded like a good idea. That table was far too elegant for jeans and a simple sweater. “I’ll be back down in few minutes.”

“Sounds good.”

As she went up the stairs, she wondered if changing would make it look as if she were trying too hard. After all, Lucas seemed to be fine with staying in his own jeans and sweater. But she’d packed those dresses, and she figured she might as well get some use out of them.

Fifteen minutes actually went by fairly quickly when you had to change your entire outfit, touch up your makeup, brush your hair, and give everything a once-over before heading back downstairs. Margot eyed herself quickly, hoping she didn’t look too “done.” But it wasn’t as if she’d put on a cocktail dress or something — she wore a black maxi dress with some color around the neck and hem, a necklace of coral and turquoise resting on her collarbone. Her boots did have heels, but they weren’t strappy sandals, and so she hoped Lucas would take her effort for what it was, which was wanting to look nice at dinner but not in anything overtly sexy.

Amazing smells were drifting up from the kitchen as she descended the stairs once more, and she entered the dining room to find Lucas opening a bottle of wine. As he looked up from the wine, she could see his dark eyes glow with admiration. So much for being low-key about dressing up.

He didn’t say anything at first, however, as if sensing that a compliment was not something she’d welcome in that moment. Once he had the cork extricated from the bottle, he did remark, “Perfect timing. Claire and Jeff are just about ready. Why don’t you go ahead and take a seat?” He pointed at the chair immediately to the right of the one at the head of the table.

“They’re not going to serve us, are they?” she asked, thinking that was expecting a bit much.

“No, we’re not,” Claire said smartly as she brought in a bowl of mixed field greens. “Just bringing everything out and letting you sort it from there.”