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surprised you didn’t run out of here screaming hours ago.”

      “I’m still entering data into the computer. You know, if you did this every month, it wouldn’t be such an enormous job. Come here, and I’ll show you.”

      Margo moved closer and he wondered if this was such a good idea. He definitely thought straighter when there were a few feet between them. Quickly he took her through the steps she should be following every month. She caught on quickly.

      “I try to set aside a little time for record keeping every night,” she admitted. “But when you have kids, it’s not so easy. By the time they’re ready for bed, I am, too.”

      She sighed, then pushed herself out of her chair. “How does a glass of wine and some herbed goat cheese sound?”

      Robert swallowed as she pulled off her apron to reveal her curvy figure. He had to get out of here before he clouded his intentions with a glass of that wine.

      But before he’d risen from his chair, Margo was in the kitchen, decanting a bottle. Deftly she poured some into two glasses, then handed him one.

      They clicked glasses together, then drank. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears. He knew he had to leave, but his feet were rooted like tree stumps.

      Margo returned to the kitchen, where she prepared a plate of cheese and crackers. She came back to the sofa and he found himself sitting next to her. They chatted about the weather, baseball and movies.

      Then she glanced at her watch and he saw her jaw tighten.

      “What’s wrong?”

      She hesitated. “My kids are at their dad’s tonight, getting ready for a wedding ceremony tomorrow. I was just wondering how they’re handling everything.”

      He took another swallow of the wine. Get out of here, Robert, his wiser half cautioned. He ignored the warning. “Your ex is getting remarried?”

      “Yeah.”

      “That must feel weird.”

      She laughed. “Yeah.”

      Crazy guy, Robert found himself thinking, as he watched Margo tip her head back and enjoy another mouthful of the light Chablis. Why would any guy married to Margo let her go? She was pretty, sexy and a damn good cook.

      And even when she was in a funk—as she obviously was right now—she was still good-humored about it.

      He watched as Margo spread creamy cheese over thick crackers. She slipped from the sofa to the floor, stretched out her legs and leaned back her head. He stared at the golden curls that spilled oh-so-close to the hand he had resting on one of the seat cushions. After a moment, he sat on the floor next to her.

      “Her name is Catherine,” Margo said, making it sound like a confession. “The kids seem to like her, but I don’t know.”

      “You’re not so keen on her?”

      “We haven’t even met.”

      “Does that worry you?”

      “A little. What if she turns out to be awful? You hear such horror stories about stepmothers.”

      “Yeah, I know. But most stepfamilies get sorted out eventually, don’t they? My mom raised me on her own, but a lot of my friends’ parents were divorced. Most of them did just fine…despite the statistics that seem to indicate otherwise.”

      “Oh, God, I hope you’re right.” Margo topped up their wineglasses. “Even though Tom and I have been apart for a year, sometimes I still can’t believe my life ended up this way. Tom and I were supposed to be forever. And now he’s getting married to someone else.” She forced a laugh. “And he wants me to go to the reception after.”

      “Really?” Robert tried to imagine attending Belinda’s wedding to the new guy who’d replaced him. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”

      “Especially since I don’t have a—”

      She didn’t finish. But her eyes met his and he knew what she had been planning to say. She didn’t have a date to take to her ex-husband’s wedding reception.

      Well, that was too bad for her, but it had nothing to do with him.

      Except, he felt badly on her behalf and he didn’t know why. Just as he couldn’t really explain why he’d offered to do her cash flow statements for her.

      He tried not to notice her cleavage as she reached for a cheese-smeared cracker. Her hair was a mess, and she seemed to realize it at just that moment, because she released the clip at the back of her head and blond curls tumbled to her shoulders.

      Oh, God. He really shouldn’t do this.

      “If you want, I could go to the reception with you.”

      CHAPTER SIX

      TOM AND CATHERINE’S wedding reception was being held at a swank hotel restaurant in the financial district. Since she had no time or money to buy something new, Margo wore the same red dress that she’d bought for her high school reunion last spring. Robert picked her up at the bistro and when he walked in dressed in a perfectly elegant black suit and gray tie, she definitely felt the earth move. But it wasn’t the sort of tremor that any Richter scale could measure.

      She took a deep breath as she gathered her cashmere scarf and handbag. She knew Robert had offered to escort her out of kindness—the same reason he’d agreed to help her with the accounting. But her insides still felt as if she was out on a date.

      “This is so nice of you,” she said, letting him take her arm as he walked her to his car.

      “I’m the lucky one,” he assured her politely.

      Well, maybe there was more than good manners behind his answer. From the widening of his eyes and the swift intake of his breath, Margo guessed he liked the way she looked in her dress.

      As they drove along Market Street toward the bay, she allowed herself to speculate. What if this were a date? A real first date? If so, it would be one of the weirdest on record, since they were attending her ex-husband’s wedding reception. And her kids would be there.

      “So.” Robert pulled his tie out from his throat. “What should I expect?”

      “I’m not really sure.” She didn’t know how many guests had been invited or what the program was. Would there be speeches? A wedding cake? She gulped. “I didn’t bring a gift. I didn’t even think of it.”

      Robert gave her a rueful smile. “That’s probably okay. You could always send something later.”

      “Yeah.” She supposed she should. But she didn’t feel like buying Tom and Catherine a gift. She didn’t feel like going to this wedding, either. If it wasn’t for the kids, she certainly wouldn’t. She did wish Tom well, but she didn’t want to witness this new start of his. There was a limit to how generous a woman could feel toward a man who had cheated on her and abandoned her. At some point, he should have had to suffer for that.

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