The Things We Do for Love by Margot Early Read Free Book Online

happened?” Jonathan Hale joined them, gazing in concern at her.
    Graham saw that earlier expression of horror wisp over her face again.
    Mary Anne pushed herself out of the chair. “Nothing happened. I’m fine. Just a bit light-headed.”
    “You’re a skinny thing,” Jonathan told her. “If you haven’t eaten, let’s get something in you.”
    Graham felt irrational annoyance. “She’s not fading away.”
    Her part of the glass had rolled away on the floor, and Jonathan picked it up. Graham handed the other part to him and focused on Mary Anne. She was a strong, healthy woman, vibrant as a Thoroughbred horse. This one was no fading lily or shrinking violet or whatever it was that was supposed to be prized in Southern women, and hedidn’t believe she was light-headed, either. Probably just upset about Hale and Miss Workman. He looked at Jonathan, who was handing her a bottle of water.
    “Thanks,” she said, taking it gratefully, uncapping it and then simply gazing at the bottle, looking shattered.
    Jonathan put a hand on her back, and she gave him a look that seemed to say, What in the hell are you doing touching me?
    In fact, Mary Anne was now wondering if she’d actually seen Graham Corbett drink the glass of wine she’d spiked with love potion. And if she had seen that, as she was sure she had, why was Jonathan Hale suddenly noticing her existence? She whispered, “I need to…I need to go home.”
    “You can’t drive,” Jonathan said. “Just sit down, and let’s get you something to eat. You’ve been manhandled.”
    “What?” Graham said in disbelief.
    “You were fighting with her over my glass of wine,” Jonathan replied.
    “Didn’t know it was yours, but I did not manhandle Mary Anne.”
    Jonathan ignored Graham. “I’ll get myself another,” he told Mary Anne gently. “Thanks for trying.”
    “Ah, Cameron.” Graham turned to Mary Anne’s cousin and dropped some keys into her hand. “My car’s just outside in the bank parking lot. Why don’t you take it and meet us at Mary Anne’s house? Can you drive a shift? I’ll drive Mary Anne in her car.”
    “Maybe we should hear what Mary Anne wants,” Jonathan said, staring intently at Graham.
    And they all, Graham and Jonathan and Cameron, looked at Mary Anne, as if to discover what she wanted.
    She had no answer, except that Graham was paying attention to her in front of Cameron, who couldn’t help seeing the direction of the wind. And Jonathan was finally noticing her—but he was engaged! Everything was messed up and she wished she’d never gotten involved with the love potion that Graham Corbett had drunk.
    She stared at the bottle of water and lifted it to her mouth, drinking deeply. Drinking in a clear, bright thought.
    Love potions don’t work anyhow.
     
    M ARY A NNE MADE her excuses—to Jonathan and his fiancée and to Cameron, who had secured the promise of a ride home from Graham—and was back at her grandmother’s house before ten, just as Nanna’s housekeeper and attendant, Lucille, was about to turn out Jacqueline Billingham’s bedroom light. Putting the debacle with the love-potion-that-wouldn’t-work-anyway behind her, Mary Anne hurried upstairs to kiss her grandmother good-night.
    Nanna still sat up against a three-cornered pillow, wearing a nightgown made of some delicate cotton that reminded Mary Anne of the woman’s soft skin, grown thinner with age yet always seeming smooth and young. As usual, her grandmother smelled good, the scent of her night cream reminding her of roses. An Emilie Loring novel, marked with a lace bookmark, sat on the bedside table next to Nanna’s water glass and rosary beads. Mary Anne kissed her, and Nanna, her white hair loose for the night, asked, “Did you have a good time, dear?”
    “Yes,” Mary Anne lied blithely.
    “And did Cameron come back with you?”
    “No,” Mary Anne said. “She has a ride home withsomeone else.” Mary Anne steered the conversation carefully