slapped you, Em.” Camille set her hot pan of lasagna down on the stovetop.
Emily shook her head and put a broad smile on her face. “Uh, no. I was saying good-bye to Colin on the phone.”
“How’s he doing? I’ll bet he misses you as much as you miss him.” Camille smiled as she rifled through the utensil drawer.
“I think you’re right.” Emily gave her friend a hug.
“I brought homemade meatballs,” Isabel proudly announced as she set her crockpot on the counter, lifting the lid to show Emily. She had been taking cooking lessons from Camille and was becoming quite accomplished. Camille was proud of her, but Maggie, the fitness queen, often gave her grief for the extra pounds she carried with her new love of cooking.
“They smell divine,” Emily complimented. “I can’t wait to taste them.”
“Grazie,” Isabel replied.
“Where’s Maggie?” Camille took the foil off her lasagna.
“Late, as usual.” Isabel stirred her meatballs and fresh marinara sauce around with a large spoon. That was Maggie’s one downfall, being notoriously late for just about everything. “She’ll probably be late for her own funeral.”
“Hey, I heard that!” Maggie shouted as she came through the door. All heads turned in her direction and the girls giggled. Emily hugged her and took her dinner contributions—a container of strawberry Gelato in a plastic grocery bag hanging from her arm and a bottle of red wine in each hand. “So, what did I miss?”
“Emily was on the phone with Colin when we walked in,” Camille reported. “She hasn’t said if there was anything new.”
“Was there? Anythin’ new, I mean?” Maggie asked.
Emily felt herself blush, and it did not go unnoticed. She hadn’t planned on saying anything, but being put on the spot as she was, she decided to just come out with it. “Well, nothing big.”
“Go on, Em, spit it out.” Camille’s bright blue eyes were wide with anticipation.
Emily could feel the heat of all their eyes on her. “Well, just as Colin was saying good-bye—”
“Out with it, Em!” Camille insisted.
“He said, ‘Love you,’ and then hung up.” Emily eyed her friends, waiting for a response. “It took me by surprise.”
“Did he actually say, I love you, or just a quick, love you?” Isabel questioned.
“What difference does it make, Isabel? He said the L word.” Maggie gave Emily a big hug.
“It makes a big difference—at least it would to me,” Isabel replied.
“I’ve decided I’m going to let it slide. I’m going to wait for the real, I love you, Emily, before I say it back.”
“That’s wise, Em,” Camille agreed. “Just make sure you let us know the second he says it. I’m going to be waiting on pins and needles, my friend.”
“Maybe not the second he says it,” Isabel added, grinning at Camille.
“Well, y’all, speakin’ of bein’ in love,” Maggie interjected, all eyes turning on her, “I have some news of my own.”
“What news, Maggs?” Emily asked.
“I met a wonderful man online through one of those datin’ services that match you up, and we’ve been talkin’ on the phone and emailin’ for a couple of months now. We’ve even had a few video chats on the computer with that Face Time thang.”
“How come you never said anything before?” Isabel asked pointedly.
“I guess I wanted to see if it was goin’ anywhere before I did. I didn’t want to jinx it, y’know? I haven’t had the best luck with men.”
Maggie had had her share of relationships with men, but none of them seemed to stick, although she was a force to be reckoned with, and as a single mother she held the bar high.
“Ooh, give us some details, Maggie,” Camille encouraged.
“His name is Lucas Wakefield, and he’s an investor and land developer. He lives in Colorado and he’s been lookin’ into doin’ a project in this area.”
“What kind of project?” Isabel questioned.
“Somethin’ up in the mountains, like a resort,” Maggie replied.
“That sounds exciting. Does that mean he’s coming here?” Emily asked.
“As a matter of fact, he is, in the next week or so.”
“Let us know and we’ll throw a big party to welcome him,” Camille offered.
“Oh, Cam, that would be fabulous!” Maggie beamed.
“This is all very exciting, ladies, but the food is getting cold,” Isabel noted. “Why don’t we serve ourselves and we can sit down and talk more while we eat?”
They happily agreed to Isabel’s suggestion and spent the next hour eating, talking, and laughing. Wine flowed, dessert was relished, and conversation of Lucas Wakefield was thoroughly exhausted.
“You’ve been very quiet about your work, Em,” Camille noted,