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“May I help you?” Clad in impeccable Eileen Fisher white linen, barefoot with wide stacks of thin gold bangle bracelets on her tanned arms, Macks managed to look both effortlessly sexy and sophisticated.
“Are you Mackenzie Cole?”
She regarded Felicity with the assurance of a woman who was comfortable in her own skin. If Felicity had to guess, she’d peg Macks for midthirties, which meant the woman was probably seven or eight years her senior.
“I am.” Her expression was bemused but patient, as if she’d opened the door to find a Girl Scout selling cookies.
Why did you come here, you idiot? Curiosity killed the cat.
Or at least it killed the fantasy that she, Felicity, was secretly Austin’s type. That there had been a chance for them.
She had been utterly wrong.
“I have a package for you.”
She pictured Macks talking on the phone with Austin, alternately reclining on a red velvet chaise longue—she’d pronounce it the French way because she’d know things like that—and sitting in lotus position on the polished cherry mahogany floor in a perfect patch of sunshine. All the while, her white linen would stay as pressed and pristine as the moment she’d removed it from the dry-cleaning bag.
Macks took the envelope and examined the writing. Her eyes flashed, and she smiled a smug, knowing smile. She turned sparkling green eyes on Felicity as if she expected her to deliver a singing telegram that sounded like this:
Austin says he loves you.
Soon you’ll be his wife.
You’re absolutely perfect.
You’ll have a lovely life.
“Come in, come in.” Macks motioned Felicity inside.
Felicity blinked and balled her hands into fists. For a split second, she wasn’t one hundred percent certain she hadn’t inadvertently been making jazz hands as she sang the telegram in her head.
Apparently, she hadn’t because her arms were rigidly at her sides, and Macks wasn’t looking at her like she was a spontaneous performing weirdo.
She should have said no to Macks’s invitation to come inside. She was going to be late meeting Maia, but the need to see Macks in her natural habitat overpowered Felicity’s preference for punctuality.
Macks closed the leaded stained-glass front door and disappeared down the cherry mahogany hallway. The flooring was the only thing Felicity’s imagination had gotten right. The living room, which was to the left, was furnished with expensive-looking pieces that were surprisingly minimalist and modern. Except for the dark wooden floor, the room was done in monochromatic white and punctuated with pops of color from artwork on the wall. Clearly expensive fine art. A freeform sculpture that looked like Chihuly glass was lit in one corner. On the opposite wall was a life-size roughhewn stone sculpture of a man’s naked torso showcased from throat to muscular midthigh. It was very lifelike and...um...erect. Felicity felt her cheeks warm.
Now, that was a conversation starter if she’d ever seen one. Did Mr. Erectus have a first name? Was Macks personally acquainted? No? Would she like to be? He looked like a strapping young man. Maybe Macks could date him instead of Austin?
Just an idea.
Felicity sighed. She should’ve called the courier. Because meeting perfect Macks and standing here inside her perfect home was akin to watching a disturbing scene in a movie. She knew she should’ve closed her eyes, looked the other way. But she didn’t. Now she couldn’t unsee the reality.
No wonder Austin had been flirting like a schoolboy.
“Here you go.” Macks’s melodic voice echoed as she approached, one bangle-clad arm outstretched, dangling a twenty-dollar bill from her perfectly French-manicured fingers. “This is for you—what did you say your name was?”
I didn’t.
“I’m Felicity. I’m Austin’s assistant. I was in the area on my way to another appointment. I told him I’d drop off the package. So, I can’t accept that.” She gestured to the money. “Thank you, though.”
Felicity flashed her best smile.
Macks was looking at her in a different, more appraising way. “Austin didn’t mention that his assistant was so pretty.”
Austin had mentioned her?
Maybe in passing. I’ll make sure my assistant puts our first date on the books.
