Free Mr. (Not Quite) Perfect by Jessica Hart Page A

meantime, get in touch with her. Send a text or something, no pressure.’
    ‘And say what?’ asked Max, who was at least listening, if unwillingly.
    ‘Just say you’re thinking of her,’ said Allegra. ‘That’ll be enough for now.’
    * * *
    ‘I can’t believe you’re making me do this.’ Max was in a grouchy mood and Allegra had to practically push him along the street towards the dance studio.
    She had booked a private lesson so that Max could learn how to waltz before the costume ball. Darcy was thrilled by the idea, a fact that Allegra had yet to pass on to Max. ‘I can’t wait,’ she’d confided to Allegra. ‘I’ve never been out with anyone who knew how to dance properly.’
    It would be Max’s hardest test, but Allegra was determined that he would succeed. It wouldn’t be much of an article if she had to report that he could manage some chit-chat over a drink but that when it came to really making an effort he had flunked out.
    Besides, she was longing to learn how to waltz herself. Not that she had anyone to waltz with, but maybe her prince would be waiting at the ball. He’d be tall, dark and handsome, and unaccountably stood up by his date, and he would twirl her around the ballroom in his arms while Max was impressing Darcy with some nifty footwork.
    Allegra’s fantasy ground to a halt as Max balked at the sign on the door, an unfortunate pink decorated with fairies.
    ‘We’re not going in here?’
    She could practically see him digging his heels into the concrete and she took his arm in a firm grip. ‘There are no fairies inside, I promise. You just have to be brave and get past the door!’
    Grumbling, Max let her manoeuvre him inside and up some stairs to the dance studio. Afraid that he would conveniently forget the arrangement, Allegra had gone to waylay him outside his office after work. She’d hung around on the pavement, feeling conspicuous in her pencil skirt, cropped jacket and funky boots, and deeply unimpressed by the style standards in civil engineering. Male or female, everyone who came out seemed to be safely dressed in sensible dark suits.
    Allegra had twisted her ankle out to admire her studded suede boots. She would hate to work anywhere that dull. She hadn’t seen a single outfit with any colour or flair. If this was the environment where Max spent his days, it was no wonder he had such appalling dress sense.
    Hugging her arms together against the cool autumn breeze, she’d shifted from foot to foot as she kept an eye on the door. If Max didn’t come out soon, she would have to go in and get him.
    And suddenly there he was.
    He’d pushed through the doors with two other men. They were identically dressed in suits and ties. Max wasn’t the tallest or the best-looking, but for some reason Allegra’s heart kicked when she caught sight of him. He was laughing at something one of the others said as he turned away, lifting a hand in farewell, and he ran lightly down the steps, scanning the street as he went.
    He was looking for her. The realisation made her heart give another odd little jump and she was smiling foolishly when his gaze crossed hers, only to stop and swing back and meet her gaze. Their eyes locked with what Allegra could have sworn was an audible click and for a moment it was as if a question trembled in the air between them.
    Then Max rolled his eyes and came towards her and the moment was broken. He was just Max—staid, conventional Max. Libby’s brother. Nothing more.
    ‘I see you didn’t trust me to make my own way to the dance studio,’ he said as he came up.
    Allegra felt as if she ought to kiss him on the cheek or something, but all at once she felt ridiculously shy. She wouldn’t have hesitated at work, but she was on Max’s ground now and it seemed too intimate to give him a casual hug.
    So she kept her arms wrapped around herself and turned to walk beside him instead. ‘You’ve got to admit that you didn’t seem very keen when I reminded