When was the last time she had a man bring out all those things in her? Let's see . . . Absolutely never. And above all those things? She felt happy.
She opened the fridge, counted four eggs. That ought to do it. She got out a bowl, a whisk, a skillet. She wanted to fix him breakfast, she realized-such as it was. Wanted to put a little meal together for him. To tend, she supposed, as he tended.
It must be-
Her thoughts scattered as she heard the door open. "Em? If you've come to mooch coffee, you'd better be carrying one of my mugs you've walked off with."
She turned, expecting to see her friend, and watched her mother walk into the kitchen.
"Mom." Mac's face went numb. "What are you doing here?"
"Dropping by to see my daughter." Beaming smiles, Linda tossed open her arms as she rushed across the kitchen to grab Mac in a hard hug. "Oh, you're so thin! You should've been a model instead of the one taking pictures. Coffee, wonderful. Have you got any skim milk?"
"No. Mom, I'm sorry, this isn't a good time."
"Oh, why do you want to hurt my feelings?" On Linda, a pout was both pretty and effective-and she knew it. Her baby blue eyes radiated hurt, her soft, pink mouth projected defenselessness-with the slightest of quivers.
"I don't mean to. It's just . . . we have an event today and-"
"You always have an event." Linda waved it off. "You can spare five minutes for your mother." As she spoke, Linda tossed her coat over a stool. "I came all the way over here to thank you for the spa. And to apologize." Those blue eyes took on a sheen of emotion and unshed tears. "I shouldn't have been so cranky with you, and after you were so sweet to me. I'm so sorry."
She meant it, Mac knew. For as long as it lasted.
Rather than acknowledge sentiments that would be fleeting, Mac got out a mug. Give her coffee, get her gone, she thought. "Great outfit. You're awfully suited up for a drop-by."
"Oh, this?" Linda did a runway turn in the sharp red suit that set off her curves and burned against her fall of blond hair. "It's fabulous, isn't it?" She threw back her head and laughed, until Mac had to smile.
"It is. Especially on you."
"What do you think, the pearls are good with it, aren't they? Not too matron lady?"
"Nothing could look matronly on you." Mac offered the mug.
"Oh, honey, don't you have a decent cup and saucer?"
"No. Where are you taking the outfit?"
"I'm having brunch in the city, at Elmo. With Ari."
"Who?"
"Ari. I met him at the spa. I told you. He lives in the city. He owns olive groves and vineyards-and, well, I'm not sure exactly, but it doesn't matter. His son runs most of the businesses now. He's a widower."
"Ah."
"He may be the one." Forgoing the coffee, Linda pressed a hand to her heart. "Oh, Mac, we had such a meeting of the minds and spirits, such an instant connection. It must've been fate that sent me to the spa at the same time he was there."
My three thousand sent you to the spa, Mac thought.
"He's very handsome, in a distinguished kind of way. He travels everywhere. He has a second home on Corfu, a pied-à-terre in London, and a summer home in the Hamptons. I'd barely gotten in the door from the spa when he called to ask me to brunch today."
"Have a good time. You should get started, it's a long drive into the city."
"It really is, and my car made a funny noise yesterday. I need to borrow yours."
"I can't lend you my car. I need it."
"Well, you'll have mine."
With the funny noise, Mac thought. "Your two-seater convertible won't work for me. I have client meetings tomorrow, and an outside shoot, which means equipment. I need my own car."
"I'll have it back tonight. God, Mackensie."
"That's what you said the last time I let you borrow it, and I didn't see it or you for three days."
"That was a spontaneous long weekend. Your trouble is you never do anything spontaneous. Everything has to be scheduled and regimented. Do you want me to have a breakdown on the side of the road? Or an accident? Can't you think of anyone but yourself ?"
"Excuse me." Carter stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Sorry to interrupt. Hello, you must be Mackensie's mother."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEY COULDN'T HAVE LOOKED MORE DISSIMILAR TO CARTER'S eyes, the petite, curvy blonde in the tailored red suit and the willow-stem redhead in a plaid robe.