The Protea Boys by Tea Cooper

rang and asked if I’d like to address the meeting. Remind everyone about the farm and explain our business venture, remember? The Protea Boys and how the business works.” She glanced down at her waterlogged watch. “I said I would.” She plastered a sanctimonious grin on her face and raised an eyebrow.
    Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing Hillary and Matt had arrived. Georgie only had about an hour to get herself cleaned up and presentable before she had to stand up in front of the meeting and convince everyone in the village they should have a bunch of proteas adorning their business premises. And that she was an upstanding member of the local community and not a floozy who couldn’t get enough of the first man who’d taken any notice of her in a long time. “In fact if I don’t get a move on, I’ll be late.”
    She shivered slightly as Tom returned to her side. “I’ve got to go too,” he interrupted with a discreet wink. “I’ve volunteered myself for waiter duty tonight.”

Chapter Fourteen
    “Terrible.” Georgie threw the dress down on the bed, where the pile of discarded clothes grew ominously higher. “I really don’t want to go,” she muttered as she disappeared once more into the back of her walk-in wardrobe. After rummaging through the remnants of her past life, she finally pulled out a navy blue linen shift and twisted it around on the hanger.
    Better .
    Holding it up against her body, she stared into the full-length mirror and squared her shoulders. What she really wanted was a burkha, something to cover her from head to foot, hide her traitorous body. But no. It wasn’t an option; blue linen would have to do.
    Georgie wasn’t worried about addressing the Chamber of Commerce meeting. She could do it standing on her head. More the fact that the meeting was being held at Nick’s restaurant, and the last thing she needed was Tom Morgan looking at her as though she were something from a wet T-shirt competition. She peered closely in the mirror just to make sure she had scrubbed all the remaining traces of diesel oil, and passion, from her face and blew out a long, slow breath. The entire afternoon had been ridiculous. What was the matter with her? Rolling around in the dirt and then chucking the bucket of water all over him. And—she huffed at her reflection in the mirror—she’d behaved like a sex-crazed teenager by practically crawling down his throat. Her stomach did a quick twist, and she looked more closely into the mirror, running her fingers over her reddened lips. She might have behaved like a sex-crazed teenager, but he certainly hadn’t acted like a geriatric and hadn’t complained or run away, at least not until Hillary and Matt had arrived.
    Once she had slipped the dress over her head, Georgie pulled her hair up into a neat chignon that totally belied the confusion in her head and stared down at her feet.
    Shoes.
    Another trip to the back of the wardrobe produced a pair of navy suede sandals. She slipped them on and walked across the room as her calf muscles stretched. It had been a long time since she’d worn heels.
    Makeup.
    Earrings.
    She checked her watch, horrified at the ridiculous amount of time it had taken her to get changed. Had she always spent this long getting ready? She used to dress this way for work every day. But then, in those days she was out to impress and show Dale he’d made the right decision leaving his wife for her.
    Madness.
    With one last check in the mirror, she grabbed her clutch and headed for the car.
    ***
    By the time Georgie reached the village, the lights from Nick’s restaurant illuminated the cobbled street. Through the window, groups of people stood around, chatting with glasses of wine in their hands, and muted conversation flowed out into the night air. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped carefully across the polished timber floors, praying she wouldn’t plant herself in such an ignominious way as she had the