Marguerite was completely flummoxed, staring wide-eyed at the little girl, Margot, who was winking at her like there was no tomorrow.
This little rascal—was she trying to claim Marguerite as her mom to get her to step in and play house?
Across the table, Charlie was fuming, his face red as a beet. He slammed his fist down on the table, pointing at Marguerite, and yelled, “Marguerite! You’ve got a daughter and you’re out here speed dating? Are you nuts?”
“Nuts? You’re the one who’s nuts! Your whole family’s nuts! You better be careful, my dad might just show up and have you escorted out of here in cuffs! Just so you know, my mom’s only here because she had a fight with my dad. Otherwise, someone like you would never get a dinner with her in a million years! You should be grateful for the steak you just ate—it must’ve cost enough to cover half your paycheck!”
Margot’s voice was a near-shout, causing heads to turn at several nearby tables. Even the restaurant security at the door rushed over, baton in hand, making Charlie jump like he’d seen a ghost.
Margot stuck her tongue out at Charlie from behind Marguerite, clearly enjoying her little performance.
Charlie was livid, but the looming security guards made him think twice. He grabbed his ill-fitting suit jacket and stormed out, grumbling under his breath.
Once he was gone, Margot bounced out from behind Marguerite and dramatically placed a hand over her heart, letting out a big sigh of relief.
Marguerite couldn’t help but laugh at the little one’s theatrics. She crouched down to Margot’s level and asked, “Why did you say I’m your mommy?”
Margot’s eyes were bright and unblinking, full of mischief and innocence. Marguerite knew the kid was trying to help her, but the moment she heard “mommy,” a wave of nostalgia hit her, making her think of her own daughter, Teresa.
Back in the day, Teresa was always the first to jump to her defense whenever Marguerite was in trouble or feeling down.
Margot remained silent, so Marguerite pulled her closer and asked again, “Can you tell me why you helped me?”
Margot giggled, “Daddy taught me.”
“Daddy?”
“Yeah, he told me exactly what to say!”
Margot nodded emphatically, then waved over Marguerite’s shoulder.
Marguerite turned around instinctively and saw Silas approaching, casually dressed in a white shirt and jeans, looking as laid-back as ever. She felt a sudden urge to bolt.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Bride Behind the Mask
Thanks for the updates. Keep them rolling. 💯💯...
New updates please....
Intriguing novel. Thank you in advance for more chapters....