Chapter Fifteen
“I’ll pick you up at noon. We’ll have lunch.” Hearing Max’s voice on the phone was odd. The last time they’d spoken on the telephone was the first time she’d ever talked him. It seemed like eons ago. And yet, it was just a few short months.
“Wonderful,” she said, “What do I wear?”
“Something I’d like,” he replied, “something accessible.” His tone of voice and his choice of words delighted her. She liked surprises, and she liked the mysterious uncertainty of their moments together. She’d spent too many years being predictable. Max Burton was not predictable, ever.
She wore a skirt she’d bought with him in mind. It was long, but slit from bottom to mid hip, and not full enough to hide the slit; so when she walked, her slender legs would show from the ankle to nearly her w
