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question. “I don’t think so.”

      “Hopefully your kids won’t have stepsiblings to worry about.” Nora was working hard to find something positive to say.

      “But that means Catherine will be clueless about kids.”

      “True. Like in that movie Stepmom, when Julia Roberts’s character is so insensitive in the beginning.”

      “Not to mention the real mother dies in that movie,” Margo pointed out.

      “Okay, so that was a bad example. Sorry. I really am trying to make you feel better. Eat some more cake. I’m sure this Catherine will turn out to be a very nice woman.”

      Margo took a bite of cake and wondered why neither Nora’s comforting words nor chocolate seemed to help.

      “You need a distraction. Like that guy, Robert Brookman…”

      “The guy who couldn’t get out of here fast enough once he saw a picture of my children?”

      “Maybe I was wrong about that. As you said, he was probably worried that you might be married and just choosing not to wear a ring.”

      “That’s an optimistic interpretation.”

      “Tell you what,” Nora said. “If he comes by again tomorrow, you’ll know he’s interested. If he doesn’t…then start looking for someone else.”

      “Someone else? I thought we’d just established the fact that neither of us have time for a man in our lives right now?”

      “Hey, you were the one complaining about your ex-husband’s new fiancée. Don’t you know that the best defense is a good offence? Instead of worrying about the new woman in Tom’s life, I say you make him worry about the new man in yours.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      Friday’s Soup of the Day: Sherry Chanterelle

      ROBERT STOPPED TO READ the specials in the bistro window. He’d always loved mushroom soup, he told himself as he went inside.

      He couldn’t say what he was doing back here. The soup was a convenient excuse, but he knew better. He paused at the sight of Margo serving an older man. The two bantered with a degree of familiarity that made him unaccountably envious.

      He wanted her to smile like that at him.

      No question about it, he had it bad. Wouldn’t he feel like a fool, though, when he found out she was married with a parcel of kids? He joined the queue waiting to be served and plotted the best way to find out what he’d come here to learn.

      HE WAS BACK. Margo saw him on the street as he stopped to read the specials on the chalkboard. When he stepped inside, her heart felt like it was dancing. Nora had been right after all…or had she?

      Robert’s smile when he stepped up to the counter seemed guarded.

      “Hi, Margo. Could I have a bowl of the soup and a scone on the side?”

      She took his money while Em filled the order. She glanced up once at Robert, but he wasn’t even looking in her direction. Maybe he really was here for the soup.

      Robert carried his tray to the table at the back and, like before, he set himself up with the daily paper and his BlackBerry. She tried to ignore him after that, but it wasn’t easy. As before, he stayed for a long time. Once or twice she thought she saw him looking her way, but she couldn’t be sure.

      After the lunch hour rush was over, Margo decided to go back to the kitchen to experiment with a new muffin recipe. She envisioned a combination of dried cherries, dark chocolate and pecans swirled into a batter of wholesome grains and buttermilk.

      The challenge of concocting something new was just what she needed to take her mind off Robert Brookman. Not to mention Tom’s upcoming wedding.

      As she scooped chunks of dark chocolate into the batter, Margo glanced out the open door at Robert’s back. She wondered how much longer he would stay. And what was he working on so intently? She couldn’t complain about him taking up a table since he continued to order food. So far he’d had two bowls of soup, three scones and four cups of coffee.

      He’d also covered his table with newspapers and his laptop, and had taken half a dozen different phone calls. It was almost as if he’d decided to make her bistro his new office. And, cute as he may be, she wasn’t too happy about that.

      Gently, Margo stirred the chocolate, cherries and nuts through the batter. It was thicker than most muffin batters, but if she added extra liquid now, she’d end up overmixing and ruining the muffins anyway. She’d just have to hope for the best.

      Margo scooped the mixture into muffin liners, then put the tray in the oven. As she set the timer for twenty minutes, she noticed that it was almost three-thirty. Tom and Catherine would be picking the children up from school soon. Hopefully everything would go smoothly, but she couldn’t help worrying about Peter and Ellie.

      Yesterday they’d acted as if their dad’s remarriage was no big deal, but the reality would surely hit soon. This could be terribly confusing for them.

      As she ran a sink of soapy, hot water for the dirty dishes, Margo wondered if the family was due for another round of counseling. Maybe she’d discuss the idea with Tom when he and Catherine came back from their honeymoon.

      Honeymoon…

      They’d probably go someplace with five stars and 600-count bedsheets—a total contrast from her and Tom’s camping expedition in Marin County. They’d been college students with not much time between semesters, and even less money. They’d hiked in the mornings and spent their afternoons sleeping on the beaches and making love whenever they wanted. She’d been so happy and so optimistic about the future. But whoever dreamed on their honeymoon that divorce lay in the future?

      “Something smells good in here.”

      She whirled around to find Robert Brookman in her kitchen, just an arm’s length away. He looked different in the small galley space. Even better than she remembered.

      Maybe it was me he was interested in… “Can I help you?”

      “I hope so. I was just—”

      The loud buzz of the timer startled them both. Margo rushed to switch it off. “Sorry. I’m experimenting with a new recipe.”

      She pulled the tray from the oven and her earlier fears were confirmed. The muffins were too flat. Even without checking, she could tell the consistency was going to be tough.

      Robert inspected them, too. “They look smaller than the ones in your front display case.”

      “I know. Something definitely went wrong.” She dumped the muffins out onto a clean cloth, wrote a few quick comments in her notebook then looked up at Robert. “Feeling brave? Want a taste?”

      “I’m your man.”

      The double entendre hit them at the same moment. Their glances collided, then they both looked quickly away.

      “Actually,” Robert said, clearing his throat, “I realized something a few minutes ago. Ever since I saw you I’ve been trying to think why you look so familiar. About a year ago you had a line of credit approved at the Wells Fargo branch down the block from here, didn’t you?”

      Margo froze. Great. This was exactly the link from the past that she did not need right now. Robert Brookman was from Wells Fargo. But now that he’d mentioned that, she remembered, too. She nodded reluctantly.

      “I was on a branch tour. When I’d stopped to talk with your loan officer, I hadn’t realized he was busy with a customer.”

      Busy with her. She recalled Robert apologizing for interrupting, then asking the loan manager to come talk to him when he had a few minutes. Ten seconds Robert had been in that office. Fifteen, tops. And yet, he’d remembered her.

      “I

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