She seemed like a closed-door type. The shower had stopped, so he banged on the door in passing.
“I’ll be off then, love,” he said. He wished he could join her in the shower, or take her back to bed all damp and smelling of soap, but she’d likely have his hide if he distracted her from her precious book.
Her voice sounded odd. “You’re going?”
“Yeah. Hope the work goes well today.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t open the door, so he’d likely been right.
“Well, cheerio.”
“Yes. ’Bye.”
He whistled as he ran down the stairs. He ought to do some tidying up at home, and maybe some shopping. And he’d definitely change his sheets. After all, nobody could work all day and night every day. Not even Meg.
Because he was preoccupied he did a very stupid thing. He walked right out of Meg’s front door without having the bloody sense to have a doss out the window first, which is how he all but bashed straight into Maxine.
He recoiled at the sight of her, feeling as stupid as though he’d been caught by his nanny doing something naughty. Her knowing smile didn’t help.
“Well, hello, Arthur,” she purred. She wore wellies, a yellow mac, and a striped umbrella, and managed to look like a runway model.
Fuck, fuck, fuckety fuck. “Hi, Max. I was just…um…changing a lightbulb for Meg. Bloody things keep burning out. I’ll have to have a look at the electrical when I get a minute.”
“Good idea.” Her amusement circled him like smoke. “And next time you come to change a lightbulb, lover, make sure you fasten the buttons on your shirt in the right order.”
He didn’t say another word, simply barged past her and plunged into the rain.
When Meg heard the knocking on her door she thought Arthur must be back. Hopefully for breakfast. But then why didn’t he let himself in? Had he locked the door behind himself? But when she ran lightly down the stairs, in jeans and her favorite blue cotton sweater, it wasn’t Arthur standing there, but Maxine.
“Oh,” she said, wondering why on earth she should feel embarrassed and whether Maxine could tell she was blushing.
“Hey, neighbor. I just passed Arthur coming out of your place.”
“Did you?”
“Yes. I wonder what he was doing here so early.”
“He was looking at the faucet in the upstairs bathroom. It sticks.” Luckily, the faucet did stick, and she’d been thinking of mentioning it or she never would have invented such a smooth lie. Not that she even wanted to lie to Maxine, but the relationship was too new. Anyway, she wasn’t even sure it was a relationship, especially not the way Arthur had sprinted out the door this morning without so much as a cup of coffee or a kiss good-bye.
“Would you like some coffee?” she asked Max, who was still standing, dripping on her doorstep.
“No. I’m not staying. You left one of your earrings last night. It must have fallen off at dinner.” She dug into her pocket and emerged with a dangle of amber.
“Thanks. I didn’t even notice. The catch must be loose.” She took the earring and played with it like worry beads. “I haven’t started work yet. I’m going to make some coffee for myself. I wish you’d stay.” Maxine did not strike Meg as a woman who would slog through mud to return an earring. Something was on her mind, and even if it was no more than nosiness about Arthur and her, she wouldn’t mind the distraction of another woman’s company.
“Well, okay.” Maxine stepped inside, removing her damp outer clothes and stepping out of her boots.
She wore thick woollen socks that someone had knit by hand. Meg had a feeling the socks were a new part of her wardrobe since she’d moved here.
“What?” Maxine said, following her gaze. “Did I put two different socks on? I do sometimes.”
“No. I was thinking you probably didn’t bring those socks from L.A. ”
A snort of laughter greeted her. “You’re right. I pretty much had to abandon my L.A. wardrobe.” She sighed softly. “There are days I really miss Rodeo Drive.”
“So? What’s the deal with you and George?”
She shook her head and looked helpless. “Bliss. Pure bliss. I cannot help myself. I’m crazy about that man.”
“You know, it doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s crazy about you, too.”
“All I wanted was documentary footage of the earl. Who’d have thought I’d end up with the earl himself?”
“Will you stay?”
“I think so. I’m in negotiation for a series that would be a joint production of the company I work for and the BBC. But”-she shrugged-“if it doesn’t work out, I think I can keep myself busy on the estate.”
“Wow. Isn’t it hard to leave your home?”
“It’s hard to leave the people you love. I have a sister who needs me right now. She just got divorced and her job is probably going to end. I feel a long way away. But”-she looked out of the window in the direction of the manor house-“you make your home, too. I think mine is here.”
Meg couldn’t imagine moving across an ocean for a man, but she’d seen the way George and Maxine were together. For love like that? Maybe.
She poured coffee and served it.
“I’m glad Arthur fixed the faucet for you.”
“It was really no big deal,” she said, wishing Maxine would shut up already about the faucet.
“It’s funny. When I bumped into him, he told me he was here replacing a lightbulb.”
Their gazes met. Maxine raised one eyebrow. “And his shirt was buttoned all wrong.”
Meg put her coffee down, the ceramic mug making a sharp click against the table. She slumped back and looked at the ceiling, feeling like her mom had just caught her sneaking in past curfew and she was about to be grounded. “Okay, so I slept with him. And I’m not apologizing for lying to you about it. It’s so new. Last night was our first time and it was-oh, God, I’m babbling.”
“You’re cute when you babble. Hey, I think it’s great, and don’t think I’m trying to pry into your private life. But it’s hard. You know? I’ve been a journalist and researcher for a long time. And this is my first stint as a matchmaker. I got curious. Can’t help it.”
Meg sat forward, thinking that journalists were also pretty good at spreading news. “You tell anybody anything and I’ll make you the murder victim in my next book. Got it?”
“Absolutely. I won’t tell a soul.” Maxine’s eyes were dancing, and Meg was suddenly glad she had a female friend here. Even though they’d only recently met, she had a good feeling that she and Maxine were destined to be friends.
“And, since you’re obviously dying to know, it was fantastic.”
“Hah. I knew it. I always figured he had to be good in bed. Some guys, you can just tell. I thought last night that there was something happening between you two.”
“Hey, it’s nothing really,” Meg said, thinking of how he’d disappeared so fast this morning. “Only a casual holiday thing.”
“Arthur’s not the casual type,” Maxine informed her. “Since I’ve been here, I haven’t seen him fixing anybody else’s faucet or replacing her lightbulbs.”
“Really?” Her heart bumped and she wasn’t sure whether the knowledge that she wasn’t one in a string of women made her feel better or worse.
“I’m not saying he’s a saint, don’t get me wrong. I’m sure he has women, but he’s not a player, if you know what I mean.”
Maxine didn’t stay long. After a little more of the female bonding of a good gossip over a cup of coffee, she left.
Meg slapped peanut butter on whole wheat toast, because it was a healthy breakfast, and ate it with a banana for potassium. She did not think about what she would have eaten had Arthur stayed.