Six Months Ago
“Oh, hi. You must be here about the chef’s position.” Those were the first words Anise Dale ever said to me.
“Um, um, yes. Yes, I am. Margo, um, Margo Timesch.” I wiped my palm on my pants and tried to recover my composure before offering my hand. “Are you Hilary Baxter?”
Oh, that was dumb. No way is she Hilary Baxter. Hilary Baxter sounded way more uptight than the gorgeous woman who was standing here…holding my hand in hers…I tried my best to be casual as I let my eye wander from her freckled face with slightly chapped lips. Should I offer her some of my lip balm? No, too forward. We just met. She looks so familiar.
“Um, can I have my hand back?”
Oh, head slap, Margo. Get it together.
“It’s my leg isn’t it?” she said. “I told them the color’s not quite right.”
I gla
