"I suppose he looked a bit like a twentieth-century version of Heathcliff. Dark, brooding, potentially violent, and rough around the edges." Her shoulders shrugged again. "If that sort of thing appeals to you."
"It wouldn't make me look the other way," Margo decided. "Josh said he was a mercenary for a while."
"A mercenary?" She'd forgotten that and remembering now, nodded. "Figures."
"And I ran into him once in France when he was racing. Cars." Margo tilted her head as she brought the memory back. "We had an interesting evening together."
Laura lifted a brow. "Oh, really?"
"Interesting," Margo repeated and left it at that. "Then it was stunt work in Hollywood. And now it's horses. I wonder if he'll stick around this time. I know Josh hopes he does."
"At least the situation has pushed me into getting the stables in shape." Wanting busy work, Laura moved to the shelves and began to tidy glassware. "I've neglected them too long. In fact, I may think about getting a horse myself once I can manage it. The girls might like that."
"So what kind of horses does he raise? Breed. Own. Whatever," Kate wondered.
"I didn't ask. I just showed him around the apartment, gave him the keys. I suppose he's competent. Josh seems to think so. And if his rent check doesn't bounce, I'll assume he's reliable. I can't imagine I'd want any more out of a tenant. Horses take a lot of time and work." Which meant, Laura thought, she couldn't even consider having them again for at least a decade. "He'll be busy. I doubt we'll see much of him."
The door opened for a pair of customers. Recognizing them as regulars, Laura smiled, stepped forward. "I'll take them," she murmured to her partners. "Good to see you, Mrs. Myers, Mrs. Lomax. What can I show you today?"
As Laura led the customers into the wardrobe room, Margo considered. "She's trying not to be interested."
"Hmm?"
"Laura. She had the look of a woman who's been intrigued by a man and is trying not to be." After a moment's thought, Margo smiled broadly. "Good."
"And why would that be good?"
"It's time she had a little distraction in her life. A little male distraction."
"And do you ever think of any other kind of distraction?"
"Kate—" Amused, Margo patted her friend's hand. "From a woman newly married to a certified hunk, that's a very stupid question. Laura's never let herself cut loose when it comes to men. I think Michael Fury might just be the perfect thirtieth birthday present."
"He's a man, Margo, not a pair of earrings."
"Oh, but darling, I think he might look wonderful on her. So to speak."
"And I don't suppose it occurs to you that they might not be interested in each other, in a sexual way. Wait." Kate held up a hand. "I forgot who I was talking to."
"Don't be snide." Margo tapped her fingers on the counter. "You've got a man and a woman, both unattached as far as we know, both attractive. Josh has put them in close proximity. Though I doubt it was his intention, he's created a very interesting situation."
"When you put it like that." Concerned, Kate glanced toward the wardrobe room. "Look, I always liked Mick, but he was a wild child. We could have a lamb and wolf situation here."
"I certainly hope you're right. Every woman needs at least one close encounter with a wolf. But…" They were talking about Laura, after all. "I'll have to invite Michael over for dinner. Check him out myself."
"And I suppose we'll have to bow to your greater judgment and experience."
"Naturally." The door jangled open again. "Back to work, partner."
In the wardrobe room Laura was patiently showing their selection of cashmere sweaters. If she had been aware of the direction her friends were taking she would have been both amused and appalled.
Men in general simply weren't of interest to her. She didn't hate them. Her experience with Peter hadn't turned her into a shrew, made her frigid, or narrowed her vision so that she considered men the enemy. Too many good men had touched her life for that. She had her father as a prime example. Her brother was another. And over the past months, she had come to love Byron De Witt.
Family was one thing. Intimate, even casual, relationships were another. She didn't have the time, inclination, or energy for one. In the two years since she had ended her marriage, she had been struggling to rebuild her life on all levels. Her children, her home, her work for Templeton. And Pretenses.
While her customers debated their selections, she eased back to give them room, musing on the events that had led to starting the shop. It had been an impulse, a step she'd taken for Margo as much as for herself.
Margo's career and finances had been in ruins when she returned to Monterey from Europe. The idea of liquidating her possessions and creating an intriguing space in which to sell them had been a risk, but it had paid off from the first moment.