It was one of the first things Ruby Gilbert said to Tom after the stout blond-haired woman had set them up at the corner window table, said her hellos, and distributed the menus. She had preferred to take the kitten to a spare back room to let her roam, and the children had agreed. Tom almost groaned out loud at Ruby’s question, but stopped himself when he noticed Amanda watching him. A heat flared between them. Did she feel the tug, too? Did she know what it was? A passing interest? A mutual attraction? Where could it lead them? “Clarissa’s gone back to her family in Calgary.” He unfolded his cardboard menu and read the entrées, knowing them well by heart, considering how many times he’d eaten here with his former… What exactly had Clarissa been to him? His former fiancée who hadn’t known it? A familiar twinge of failure twisted in his gut. Ruby leaned first on one foot, then the other, a habit she had, likely because her feet were sore from standing most of the day. “She’ll be back for the ball, won’t she?”
