“Margo? Are you still there?”
“Yes.” Barely.
“Catherine and I were hoping you’d come to the reception. We feel it’s important for the children that they see this wedding has your support.”
Did he know what he was asking? Margo rubbed her forehead. Forget the children being overwhelmed. What about her?
It was dizzying how fast her life had changed. She’d gone from being a married woman and practicing lawyer to a single mother with a business of her own. She’d adjusted—but was she ready to watch her ex-husband marry another woman?
And yet, she knew Tom had a point. For their kids’ sake, she had to do this. “Give me the restaurant name and time and I’ll be there.”
Slipping the phone back into her apron, she leaned into her chair.
This was so unreal.
In the year they’d been living apart, Tom had had his affair with Janna, and now he was marrying someone named Catherine whom she had never met.
Her ex had been busy.
And in all that time, she hadn’t gone on a single date.
Dear Reader,
When hearts break, dreams die and a marriage ends, sometimes the idea of loving again feels like an impossible fantasy. Especially when kids are in the picture.
Dating is challenging enough without adding the complication of children to the mix. Single parents are busy people. Working, raising kids and running a household all on your own leaves precious little time for dating. And yet, given the contemporary divorce rate, this is the reality many of us face.
I’d like to welcome you to a new series about women (and men) who find themselves in this exact situation. In Love and the Single Mom you’ll meet Margo Evans. Once Margo was full of hopes for her future. She studied law, became a lawyer, married a smart man and had two beautiful children. She thought she was living her dream—until her marriage fell apart.
Suddenly single, Margo reassesses her goals and decides to open a bistro. With two children and a new business to worry about, she definitely doesn’t have time for dating. Or so she thinks…
I hope you enjoy this story, as well as the other books in SINGLES…WITH KIDS. If you would like to write or send e-mail, I would be delighted to hear from you through my Web site at www.cjcarmichael.com. Or send mail to the following Canadian address: #1754-246 Stewart Green, S.W., Calgary, Alberta, T3H 3C8, Canada.
Happy reading!
C.J. Carmichael
Love and the Single Mum
C.J. Carmichael
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hard to imagine a more glamorous life than being an accountant, isn’t it? Still, C.J. Carmichael gave up the thrills of income tax forms and double entry bookkeeping when she sold her first book in 1998. She has now written over twenty novels for Harlequin Books and strongly suggests you look elsewhere for financial planning advice.
To my good friends Ann and Dave Mallory.
Wishing you health, happiness and bonne chance.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER ONE
Thursday’s Soup of the Day:
Squashed Pear
THERE WAS THAT MAN AGAIN. As Margo Evans accepted change from a customer, her attention lingered on the guy who’d just entered her bistro. He was in his mid-thirties, dressed in a business suit. Just as he had yesterday, he claimed a table in the back near the kitchen even though several seats by the windows were available. Immediately he pulled out a newspaper and notepad from his briefcase, and before he’d even ordered anything to eat, his BlackBerry started to ring.
It was two-thirty in the afternoon. A slow time between lunch and rush hour. They had only one other customer, a woman in her forties who was reading a novel as she sipped her coffee. Still…the guy had his nerve.
Gritting her teeth, Margo pulled out the sign her daughter, Ellie, had made for her last night: No Cell Phones Please. Ellie must have used every marker in the sixteen-color pack. It was a terrific sign. Margo taped it so that it hung down from the counter facing the guy in the suit.
But he was hunched over his BlackBerry and didn’t notice.
How annoying. She didn’t mind if her patrons took the occasional call, but if he planned to stay several hours, as he had yesterday, she was going to have to make him aware of the rules.
She went around the counter and slipped next to Emma Greenfield. Em’s kids were in high school now and she worked Monday to Friday, eight hours a day. “Do we have a zucchini chocolate cake in reserve?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Nora’s stopping by for coffee later, and that’s one of her favorites.” Nora Clark was a new friend Margo had made a few months ago. One of the perks of owning a bistro was that she was always making new friends. But Nora was special. Like Margo, she was a single mom, too, and they always had lots to talk about.
“We’ve got the cake,” Em assured her. “But we’re running low on the soup.”
Margo peered into the cauldron and saw that Em was right. They were down to the dregs, and if yesterday was anything to judge by, the guy in the suit was going to order several bowls of the stuff.
“Those soups of yours are the most popular item on the menu,” Em said, as she wiped down the espresso machine. The beautiful red La Marzocco had been costly—even more than Margo’s beloved Garland stove in the back—and Em treated it with the same attention that a car lover would bestow on a vintage automobile.
“Yes, the soup always sells out, doesn’t it?” In fact, business was generally brisk and the feedback on the food was excellent. So why wasn’t she making any money?
Margo couldn’t figure it out. Lots of people had warned her about the work and the risks involved in starting a new business—particularly a restaurant, where hours were long and competition tight. Among those who had been the most cautious were the loans manager at the bank, her ex-husband Tom and her former associates at the law firm. She’d known they were right, but she hadn’t appreciated just how right they would turn out to be.
Margo pulled the stainless steel soup container from its slot and headed for the kitchen. As she passed the guy in the suit, their eyes connected briefly.
Had