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Love And The Single Mom (Singles.... With Kids #1)




  “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 MOM

  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.

  Books by C.J. Carmichael

  HARLEQUIN SUPERROMANCE

  851—JESSIE’S FATHER

  891—HER BEST FRIEND’S BABY

  917—THE FOURTH CHILD

  956—A DAUGHTER’S PLACE

  968—A SISTER WOULD KNOW

  1038—A SECOND-CHANCE PROPOSAL

  1044—A CONVENIENT PROPOSAL

  1050—A LASTING PROPOSAL

  1095—TOGETHER BY CHRISTMAS

  1120—SMALL-TOWN GIRL

  1170—LEAVING ENCHANTMENT

  1203—FOR A BABY

  1240—SEATTLE AFTER MIDNIGHT

  1277—A LITTLE SECRET BETWEEN FRIENDS

  1356—A BABY BETWEEN THEM*

  1374—SECRETS BETWEEN THEM*

  SIGNATURE SELECT SAGA

  YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU*

  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 they met before? Several times yesterday she’d had the feeling that they
had. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to say something to her, but then his BlackBerry beeped and he turned his attention back to that.

  He looked like a typical businessman in his mid-thirties. The kind of customer she saw many times every day. He was conservative and clean-cut and totally boring….

  Except for his eyes. His smile was kind of cute, too.

  With her hip Margo pushed open the door to the narrow kitchen. Centered on the back wall was the stainless steel Garland. She stirred the pot of thick, fragrant squash and pear soup that simmered on the back burner, then refilled the cauldron and lugged it back to the serving area out front.

  One of her regular customers was just walking in. Margo stopped to chat with the older gentleman for a while and she smiled when he told her that his afternoon coffee was the highlight of his day.

  “I always feel happy when I’m here,” Oscar said in a whisper, as if it was something to feel ashamed of.

  “So do I,” Margo whispered back.

  And she was. Her bistro was everything she’d ever dreamed it would be—except profitable. Margo had expected to lose money the first few months, but with a year of operation behind her she was getting desperate to creep out of the red.

  The guy in the suit appeared at the counter as soon as she had the soup in place. He caught her eye. “Smells wonderful. I’ll have a bowlful of that, plus another of those scones.”

  As she took his money, the recognition thing bugged her again. “Have we—?”

  But before she could complete her question, his phone rang. He was wearing small earphones, so he was able to talk to whomever was on the line and carry his food back to his table all at the same time.

  “That guy is starting to get on my nerves,” Em commented quietly.

  “Maybe I should take Ellie’s sign and flash it in his face.”

  Em laughed. “Yeah. You do that.”

  “I’m serious.” She started to lift the tape that was holding the sign to the counter, only to hear the sound of ringing yet again. It wasn’t Suit Guy’s BlackBerry this time—she was embarrassed to realize it was her own cell phone.

  Em’s hair was turning gray, but her eyebrows were still coal-black. She raised them now and Margo apologized.

  “It might be an emergency. I’ll just be a sec.” She withdrew to the kitchen where she pulled her phone from the pocket of her white apron. Only the kids’ school and Tom had this number and they knew better than to use it casually.

  Had one of the kids taken ill? Been injured on the playground? With a feeling of dread, Margo said hello.

  “Margo?”

  Not hearing the school secretary on the other end was a plus. But the familiar voice of her ex-husband didn’t exactly fill her with joy. “Hi, Tom.”

  “Sorry to bother you at the bistro. But I needed to talk to you when the kids wouldn’t be around.”

  Margo sank into a chair. This didn’t sound like it was leading up to something good. “What’s wrong?”

  The final paperwork on the divorce had been signed last week. Everything had been running so smoothly lately that she hadn’t expected to hear from Tom again in a long while.

  “I’ve got some news. And I was wondering about the best way to tell Ellie and Peter.”

  This sounded big. Margo always wore her hair up at work, but she found a stray wisp and coiled it around her finger. “What is it?” Had he been transferred? Was he planning to move? Oh, God, give her strength if that was the case.

  “I’m getting married.”

  “Wha—?” Margo’s brain stalled. How could he be getting married? The ditzy paralegal he’d had his affair with had left their law firm in disgrace shortly after Margo’s resignation. Ironically it was only Tom’s career that had survived that scandal. “I didn’t know you were still seeing Janna.”

  “I’m not. My fiancée’s name is Catherine. She works part-time as a receptionist at Henry’s firm.”

  Henry Kovatch was Tom’s best friend. And supposedly one of hers, too. The three of them had been inseparable in law school. “Did Henry set you up?”

  “Well…yes.”

  Hmm. Why hadn’t Henry set her up with someone? Then again, the only people Henry knew were lawyers and people who worked with lawyers. And she definitely didn’t want to get involved with another one of them.

  “Catherine and I have been dating for about four months.”

  “That’s all? And you want to get married?”

  “I know it seems impulsive—”

  “Seems?” Tom was the least impulsive person she’d ever known. On the other hand, he liked having a woman around to take care of him, which was one of the reasons their marriage had failed. Margo had expected to be an equal partner sort of wife. Not a mother fill-in. “This Catherine must be something else.”

  “She’s wonderful. As soon as I met her I knew she was the one.”

  Margo closed her eyes. Tom had once said that about her. Did he remember?

  He’d told her she was the prettiest, most amazing woman in the world and that nothing would make him happier than spending the rest of his life with her.

  Apparently he’d meant his life or ten years, whichever came first.

  Damn, she never had been one to read the fine print. Good thing she’d left the law. Like her marriage to Tom it was one of those things she’d thought she’d wanted, only to be disillusioned with the reality.

  “Well…” Spit it out, Margo. “Congratulations. Have the kids met her?”

  “Sure. They get along great.”

  Funny. Neither Ellie nor Peter had ever mentioned Catherine to her. Then again, neither had they mentioned anything about the new silver Audi roadster that Margo had seen in the garage the last time she’d dropped them off at Tom’s for the weekend.

  “Catherine loves them, too. This is going to work out really well, Margo. I have no doubt about that.”

  God help them all if he was wrong. “So when is this wedding taking place?”

  “That’s the thing. See, we’d been planning a big church wedding, then last week we got the idea to do something simple and easy at city hall.”

  “Okay… But when?”

  “That’s what I needed to talk to you about. I know this is your weekend to have the kids, but I was hoping—”

  “This weekend? You’re getting married this weekend?”

  “Would you calm down, Margo. Yes, I’m getting married this weekend. And I’d like the kids to be there.”

  In ten years of marriage, he’d never surprised her so much.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’ll pick Ellie and Peter up after school on Friday—”

  “That’s tomorrow.” Did Ellie’s pink dress shoes still fit her? Well, they’d have to. He’d left them no time to go shopping. “Do they know that you and Catherine are getting married?”

  “Well, Catherine has practically been living with me the last few weeks, so I don’t think they’ll be too surprised.”

  “Tom—”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll be fine with it. Like I said, they like Catherine.”

  This was all so very not fine that Margo didn’t have a clue where to start. The kids were going to be overwhelmed. A new stepmother, at the drop of a hat. How could Tom sound so cavalier about something that was going to totally change all of their lives?

  Including hers.

  Adjusting to a separate life from the father of her children was one thing. Having another woman in her children’s lives was something else. Margo had known this would happen one day. She hadn’t expected the day to arrive so soon, though.

  “Margo? Are you still there?”

  “Yes.” Barely.

  “Catherine and I were hoping you’d come to the reception, after city hall. We’re having a few people to that new rooftop restaurant at Embarcadero Center and we feel it’s important for the children that they see this wedding has your support.”

  Good God. Did he know what he was asking? Margo rubbe
d her forehead. Forget the children being overwhelmed. What about her?

  It was dizzying how fast her life had changed this year. She’d gone from being a married woman and practicing lawyer, to a single mother with a business of her own. She’d adjusted marvelously—at least she felt she had—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.”

  Margo jotted down Tom’s instructions, then wished him the best and disconnected the call. Slipping the phone back into her apron, she leaned into her chair and just sat.

  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.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Days Unemployed: 4

  “DID YOU GET MY RÉSUMÉ? I faxed it to your office yesterday.” As Robert Brookman spoke into his BlackBerry, he kept his eyes on the pretty blonde behind the counter.

  He’d heard the older woman who served the coffee, and several of the other customers, refer to her as Margo. Which meant she must be the bistro owner.

  Shifting his gaze to the notebook in front of him, he focused his attention back on his call.

  “Great. Well, let me know as soon as you hear something.” He said goodbye to his headhunter, then frowned. Finding a new job was going to take some time, he knew. He just wished Donald Macleod was a little more bullish about the job market in San Francisco right now.

  He checked out the blonde again.

  Margo. He liked the sound of the name. Just as he liked the woman it belonged to. She greeted all her customers as if she was glad to see them. And he didn’t think it was an act. She was just one of those naturally warm, sincere sort of people who enjoyed the company of others.