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“I love it.”
Her high-heeled, navy sandals elongated her legs. Her brown hair gleamed with golden highlights and framed her face, curling on her shoulders, and the gold eye-shadow she’d used made her hazel eyes seem huge.
“Did you get your hair cut?”
“It was supposed to be just a trim. I went to the hairdresser. She talked me into letting her layer it. I’m afraid I won’t be able to roll it into a bun for some time to come.”
“Blessed be the hairdresser. I hated your bun, your glasses, and your white uniform ... Although, after our last night together, I’ve grown quite fond of that severe outfit.” He chuckled. “When I saw you at the clinic this morning, I couldn’t help remembering the unbuttoned top gaping open. A lovely vision.”
“Stop, please.” Her cheeks reddened. “I’m nervous enough without teasing.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. Here, have a drink.” He raised his glass. “To you, my amazing friend, dedicated nurse, and the woman I love.”
They finished their aperitifs and left for the restaurant. Steve had requested a round table at the end of the large room and timed himself so that they would arrive ten minutes late. He wanted to make an entrance, a suitable frame for the gorgeous woman by his side.
***
Lillian surveyed the restaurant, her gaze settling on the table the hostess indicated, already occupied by Steve’s children. The four Winstons faced the front of the large room. Her throat tightened, and her steps faltered as their heads lifted, turned, tilted, and focused on their father and her.
Steve’s fingers splayed against her back, urging her forward. “Trust yourself. You’re beautiful and smart,” he whispered in an effort to bolster her courage.
Four pairs of eyes fixed on her, studying her, scrutinizing her, petrifying her.
“I feel so clumsy, so inadequate.”
His warm fingers stroked her back. “Relax. They already respect and love you as Ms. Lillian.”
“Now they’ll hate me,” she hissed, her teeth tightly gritted. The uppity babysitter setting her cap on the master. How many times had that gone well?
“I love you, sweetheart.” His hand slid to her side, pressing her against him. Warmth seeped into her rigid back, soothing her. “Smile.”
To please him, she plastered a smile on her wobbly lips, her gaze flitting from one Winston heir to the other as they approached the round table.
“Hi, guys.” Steve’s jovial voice snapped her out of her daze.
“Dad.” His two sons stood and glanced at him, waiting for an introduction.
They hadn’t recognized her! A nervous chuckle shook her.
“May I introduce my lovely friend, Ms. Lillian Haynes?”
“Our Ms. Lillian?” Stephanie’s eyes rounded like saucers.
“No way.” Royce gaped. “The same Ms. Lillian who nursed me back to life a few days ago?”
His gauze and bandage were gone, and his new hair style partially covered the pinkish line betraying the surgery.
Lillian smiled nervously. “I’m glad to see you’re back to your handsome self, Royce.” She hesitated for a few seconds. Realizing she’d passed inspection, she relaxed. “It’s nice to see you again, Stephanie, Dr. Matt, and you must be Mrs. Winston.” She’d babysat Stephanie, and much later her twins, but she’d never met Cybil.
“What did you do to yourself, Ms. Lillian?” Stephanie tilted her head to better examine her. “You’re…different.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Royce grumbled. “Sheisa different person.”
Suppressing a smile, Lillian flipped her hair back. “Same person, new haircut.” She lowered herself into the chair Steve held for her as if her transformation was the most natural thing on earth.
“No more tight bun,” Steve teased.
In his blue suit and navy buttoned-down shirt open at the throat, he radiated charm and self-confidence.
