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“Good. We are too, right, honey?” she asks Ian.

He smiles at her, and for a few seconds, I feel like an interloper as they exchange a long loving look.

“Anyway, I’m off. I’ll see you on Friday.”

Seeing my mother lavishing love and attention on another man will take getting used to. It’s natural to feel uncomfortable at first. Besides, I have my own personal issues to deal with. I won’t have time to think about them.

Outside, I pick a spot in the sun to wait for Thomas and enjoy the warmth. I spot his car minutes later and go to the passenger side when the car stops.

“Did I keep you?” he says.

“Not at all; I was basking in the sun and loving it,” I tell him.

He leans across the gearshift to kiss me. “You look like you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did. It’s relaxing not to be the one thinking of the bigger picture. All I have to do is make sure that my customers are happy and having a good time.”

He laughs. “You make me want to apply for a job as a server.”

We chat easily on the way home, and then my phone rings from my purse. I take it out and glance at the screen. It’s my sister, Adeline.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey,” she says. “I’m at work, so I’ll make this a quick one. I spoke with Mom last night. Is it true what she said? That you might be going to work at that bar?”

I draw in a breath. My answer is not going to please her. “She was right. I’ve just come from the training.”

“How could you?” she explodes. “How can you agree to work for a man who is fleecing out mother in a business that he set up?”

I let out a sigh. “Adeline, I think we should consider the idea that we might have been wrong. What if Ian is the one person who can make Mom happy?”

“Let’s not have this conversation again,” Adeline says tightly. “I’m honestly disappointed in you.”

I try one more time. “Give them a chance. You never know.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t believe you’re supporting a scheme to rob our mother.” She disconnects the call.

I let out a sigh just as Thomas and I get home. He parks the car, turns off the engine, and turns to me. “I think you’re awesome.”

The compliment is so unexpected and so nice that tears fill my eyes. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go in. I’ll draw you a bath, and while you soak in it, I’ll make us dinner,” Thomas says.

At a loss for words, I take his hand and squeeze it.

“I want to take care of you,” he says and then gets out of the car.

I’ve never dated a man who wanted to take care of me. I like my independence, but I’m learning that it’s nice sometimes to let go of the reins and let someone else steer the ship while you take a breather.

Thomas does as he promises and goes straight to my bedroom bathroom to fill the bath. I undress and wrap myself in a large warm towel.

“It’s tempting to get in with you,” he says. “But I’ll resist temptation and leave you to relax.”

I drop my towel and step into the bath, ignoring Thomas’s hungry stare.

“You’re a mean woman, Cora, do you know that?” he says.

I let my laughter escape. He leaves the bathroom without a backward glance, and I sink into the warm water and allow all the day’s stresses to seep out.

“You look like a different woman,” Thomas says when I return downstairs wrapped in a cozy robe.

“I feel like a different woman.” I was more exhausted than I thought, but I’m sure it had more to do with my emotions as opposed to physical exhaustion.

He pulls out the chair. “Your dinner is ready, ma’am.”

I giggle at his French accent. “Thank you. I like my servers a little less dressed.”

He bows low. “I shall remember that next time.”

Dinner is macaroni and cheese, and it’s delicious. Thomas has impressed me with his culinary skills. I voice my thoughts.

“I never knew how to cook before Tessa died. I’m ashamed to say that she did all the cooking. She used to say that she loved it, but that’s no excuse. Anyway, I had to learn fast,” he says.

I love watching him while he eats. I love the movements of his lips, and I find my mind meandering to thoughts of kissing him.

“I made a lot of mistakes in my marriage,” he says, his voice wistful.

My heart squeezes with pain on his behalf. There’s nothing worse than the pain of regret, especially for something that you can’t go back and rectify.

“I’m sorry.” It seems so inadequate to say sorry.

“What’s the longest relationship you’ve ever had?” Thomas asks me.

“Me?” I squeak, the question taking me aback.

He laughs in response. “Adeline was right that first time we had dinner with your family.”

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