Read Online It's Just Love by Kate Richards - Free Book Online Page B

dismissive words were belied by the pride in his tone.
    She grinned. How safe was this? She had a not-a-date with a
gorgeous guy. No danger of involvement, no worry about pain. A pang of sadness
crossed her mind, but she pushed it away. Love was for other people. She’d had
a chance, and fate had taken it away.
    “I’ll see about our table. And whether Charlie and Elise are
here.”
    She touched her hair and grimaced. “I need a moment in the
ladies’ room to freshen up.” She tried to remember if she had a brush or comb
with her. Hefting the patchwork shoulder bag, she was delighted she hadn’t had
time to change to a more appropriate evening purse.
    He waved her away, and she slipped into the small, two stall
room, dug out the wide, flat brush, and began to work the barrette out of the
tangled strands, swearing under her breath.
    The door opened, and an older woman entered as Coral finished
a string of curses brought on by both the ruination of her hairstyle and the
fact that the clasp seemed permanently knotted into her strands.
    The statuesque redhead froze in the doorway then took in the
situation and moved toward Coral. “Oh, no. Let me help.”
    “No, I’m fine, really.”
    She stood behind Coral and brushed her hands aside. “I
recognize convertible hair when I see it.” With gentle fingers, she worked away
until the evil barrette was free and dropped it on the edge of the sink. “Now
give me that brush, and don’t argue. Is that handsome, dark-haired fellow out
there waiting for you?”
    Coral nodded.
    “Then we’d better hurry before someone else comes along and
snaps him up. The women around here are sharks, and he’s attractive bait.”
    Coral thought of explaining, but realized the pointlessness.
She’d never see the woman again, and frankly, if she was going to get it
together in time to observe their quarry at dinner, she could use all the help
she could get.
    And she’d always loved having her hair brushed.
    While the other woman repaired the damage to her ‘do’, Coral
watched her reflection in the mirror. In her early sixties, her new friend
still had the bone structure of a great beauty. She chatted away about
inconsiderate men and their cars, and alley cat women who would “steal your
date as soon as look at you” while she brushed and used her fingers to work out
snarls until Coral’s hair hung in a gleaming sheet, as it had pre-Jaguar.
    “There. Now do you have a little lipstick or gloss?” She
patted Coral’s shoulder and headed into a stall. “That’s all you need to be
perfect. Have a wonderful evening, dear.”
    “Thank you.” Coral fished in her bag and found the tube.
Daubing her lips, she sighed and turned to leave. “You’re like a fairy godmother.
I feel so much better.”
    “I played a fairy godmother on Broadway once,” came the
voice from inside the enclosure. “I was happy to help. Have a wonderful dinner
and hang onto that one, dear. He’s a keeper.”
    On Broadway? Coral’s jaw dropped. Elizabeth Benner, famous
on stage and screen, had added the role of ladies’ room hairdresser to her
credits. She squeaked out more gratitude and pushed the bathroom door open to
find Gage waiting outside. A keeper. Maybe, for someone else. But he was
cute, Ms. Benner had that right.
    “You look gorgeous again,” the keeper said.
    “Thank you.” And thanks to one of the most famous people
in the world, who brushed my hair and told me to hang on to you.
    To distract herself from ridiculous thoughts, she took in
the famous eatery. Her usual evenings out involved the occasional rituals and
energy raisings with her circle, pot lucks, or weenie roasts on the beach with
some old surfing friends, and, of course, her weakness, Starbucks. Most of the
people she hung out with, in both groups, shared her love of good coffee.
    Gage held his hand out, and she took it, allowing him to
lead her to a table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He squeezed her
fingers and released