Lee Mckenzie - The Man for Maggie

On the other hand, why shouldn’t he stay? Maggie’s refreshingly off-the-wall conversation made him laugh, and God knew he didn’t usually do a lot of that. She was easy on the eyes and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had lunch with a beautiful woman who wasn’t trying to use her looks to get her hooks into him.

He’d also lost count of the number of women who thought he had access to the Durrance fortunes, and who quickly hit the road when they found he didn’t. Either Maggie didn’t care about the money or she didn’t know about it. For now, either option worked.

He found her standing at the kitchen counter, assembling two enormous sandwiches. “Can I help?”

“Sure. There’s a pitcher of lemonade in the fridge and glasses in the far cupboard.”

He grabbed the glasses and opened the fridge. One shelf was completely filled with labeled plastic containers.

Oatmeal Cleanser.

Banana-Honey Anti-Aging Mask.

Cream of Wheat Body Scrub.

Cream of Wheat? Oh, man. She really was something.

He closed the fridge door, his amusement tempered by pangs of guilt. Ten years ago this neighborhood had been filled with run-down old houses like this one. Thanks to the town council’s ambitious program to attract tourists, most of the houses had been restored to their original elegance. Many were still private residences but others had been converted into antique shops, art galleries and cafés. Renovating an old house in this posh neighborhood was a good investment but no matter how he looked at it, converting it into a food-based beauty parlor was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

It’s none of your business, Durrance. She’s an adult and she can do whatever she wants with her money. He hated having anyone meddle in his life and he wasn’t about to meddle in anyone else’s. Although, he was curious how she thought she could make a living at this. And asking a few questions didn’t make him a busybody.

He poured the lemonade into the two glasses. “Have you ever heard of one these kinds of spas before? I mean, one that uses fruit and stuff to make…you know…stuff?”

“I’ve seen them in the city, but I knew Collingwood Station didn’t have one. That’s what makes it such a good idea.”

Interesting logic. “So you really think a natural spa will work here?”

“I’m sure of it,” she said, adding sliced tomatoes and carrot sticks to each plate. “Everyone likes to be pampered and to feel they’re doing something good for their bodies.”

“You’re probably right.” And if she wasn’t, well, it was no concern of his.

“Besides, I have a way with people. I think this town is a perfect place for the kind of makeovers I do.” She set the plates on the table.

After she sat, he took a seat and he raised his glass of lemonade. “Here’s to a prosperous business venture.”

She clinked her glass against his and smiled like Mona Lisa. “And to a successful makeover. I mean, renovation.”

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