Free One True Love by Barbara Freethy Page B

though.”
    Of course she didn’t look like someone who went to a spa. The closest she got to exercise was the twenty-year-old stationary bicycle in her garage. “I—uh—I’ve been busy lately. Gotten a little out of shape.”
    “This is L.A. Can’t afford to be out of shape in this town.”
    “I’m not staying long.”
    “That’s what I thought, too,” he said with a smile so sexy it almost took her breath away. “I came out from Omaha ten years ago for a one-week vacation. I’ve been here ever since.”
    “Really?” Goodness, she could watch this man talk forever. He had an incredible mouth.
    “L.A. gets into your blood,” he added. “It’s hot and smoggy but if you want to work in film, this is the place to be. It’s where all the beautiful people are.”
    Maggie uttered a short laugh. “I don’t work in film, and I’m hardly beautiful, so I don’t think I have to worry.”
    He didn’t say anything for a moment, just studied her with light brown eyes that gleamed with hints of gold. There was intelligence in his eyes. Good Lord, the man was gorgeous and intelligent. He was right. L.A. was where all the beautiful people were, and it was time she went home.
    “You’re real,” he said finally. “You’re barely wearing makeup, and I’d bet your hair is actually blond. Unbelievable.”
    Maggie swallowed uncomfortably under his close perusal.”I better go.”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. I’m Serena’s neighbor. My name is Jeremy. Jeremy Hunt.” He extended his hand, and Maggie reluctantly took it. “I’m a writer, and I guess I tend to analyze people a little more than I should.”
    “It’s all right,” she said, as she extricated her hand from his. “My hair is blond.” Why on earth had she told him that?
    He smiled again. “If you stay in L.A.” maybe we’ll see each other around.”
    My God, the man was actually looking at her like a woman, a real, live woman, not someone’s mother, not someone’s wife, but a sexual woman. Maggie was tempted to turn around and see if there was someone standing behind her. She hadn’t had a man flirt with her in years. She didn’t have a clue how to respond.
    “I’m–I’m not staying,” she said.
    “Too bad. It’s tough to find real in this town. Figures you’d be leaving. Just my bad luck.”
    “I’m sure there are lots of real people in Los Angeles. Maybe you’re not looking in the right place.”
    “Maybe not. Are you sure you’re a friend of Serena’s?”
    “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” She couldn’t look him in the eye.
    He’d see right through her.
    “You seem different.”
    “Don’t you have any friends that are different from yourself?”
    “Touché.”
    “Well, thanks for telling me where Serena is. I better go find her.”
    He tipped his head. “Have a nice day.”
    “You too.” She took a few steps down the path, then heard him call after her.
    “Hey, you never told me your name.”
    She paused and glanced over her shoulder. “I know.”
    “I’m a writer,” he warned with another one of his dazzling smiles.
    “I’ll just make one up for you.”“I’ve always been partial to Crystal. It sounds expensive, delicate, strong, and pretty.”
    “Then I’ll call you Crystal, because it fits. Maggie smiled herself.
    It didn’t fit. She wasn’t a Crystal. she was a Margaret. But as she walked away with the most seductive swagger she’d ever managed, she couldn’t help wondering if he liked what he saw. Then the traitorous thought scared her and she hurried down the path to her car. What was she doing? She was a married woman. She couldn’t be thinking about another man.
    It wasn’t until she slipped her key into her car door that she realized she wasn’t married anymore. She wasn’t a wife. She was a widow. And she had two choices. She could go back to San Diego and forget all about Serena Hollingsworth or she could go to the spa and find some answers. There was really only one