CHAPTER 15
IMOGEN WAS STILL talking about Scott Lowes over breakfast the next morning. His eyes, his hands, his smooth voice.
“Didn’t he have his wife with him?” I reminded her.
“Yes, and the way he looked at her broke the heart of every other woman in the restaurant.” She looked downcast for a second, then perked up. “But I forgot to tell you, we have dates tonight.”
I spluttered on my orange juice, nearly losing it over the kitchen table. “Did you just say ‘we’?”
Imogen grinned and bobbed her head. “You can thank me later.”
Two slices of toast popped out of the toaster, and she abandoned her mug of coffee in favour of slathering them with butter. It took me a few seconds to process everything.
“But I don’t want to go on a date.” Curiosity got the better of me. “With who?”
“Aha, I
