Seven weeks later
Nigel glanced at the clock above Liv’s stove and gasped in horror. How had time gotten away from him so badly? How? How? It was all Abe’s fault – why did he have to drop by Liv’s house out-of-the-blue and bring some flowers for Emma? It was a lovely gesture, of course, but the man’s kisses were just too good to resist, and Nigel had easily lost a good ten minutes before sending Abe on his way.
Now he spun around the gorgeous living room, fluffing cushions and double-checking that the wine glasses were streak-free. He frowned at the banner hanging over the roaring fireplace and moved it a bit to the left, then the right, then left again. He fussed with the fresh-cut flowers, changed the music three times, and rearranged the platters of food that Jenny had prepared and br
