Read MM03 - Saturday Mornings for Free Online

knew, he was harmless, but he did have a way of leering that scared the wits out of some women.
    Hooter was standing close to Margaret Leigh, too darned close for Andrew's liking—and he was laughing his head off. He'd probably made some fool joke that he thought was funny. Or perhaps Margaret Leigh had said something witty. Hooter leaned over and cut off Andrew's view of their table.
    For the first time in his life he felt impatient. “Is that root beer about ready?”
    “Coming right up.”
    He slapped the money on the bar, then quickly took the frosty glasses across the room, sloshing some of the amber liquid onto the wooden bar. Margaret Leigh was sitting serenely at their table with her hands folded, and Hooter was in full retreat.
    “You had company while I was gone.” Andrew plopped the glasses on the table.
    “Yes. Mr. Hooter.”
    “Mister!” Andrew laughed. “He must have loved that.”
    “He hated it.” She took a sip of her root beer, made only a small face, then took another sip.
    “Well...” Andrew left the word hanging.
    “Well, what?”
    “Aren't you going to tell me what Hooter wanted?”
    “To dance.”
    “That's all he wanted, to dance? Then why did he leave in such a hurry?”
    “I suppose it's because I told him I'm a one-man woman, and you'd already put your mark on me and there was no telling what you'd do if I strayed.” She gave him a guileless look. “Do you think lying's a sin, Andrew?”
    He took a long while answering. A flip answer might have been suitable for a teasing question, but Margaret Leigh's question had been completely artless. He'd bet on that.
    “I think it depends on the circumstances. It seems to me that at times a well-meaning lie is kinder than the truth.”
    She smiled. “I believe you're a nice man, Andrew McGill.”
    “Promise not to tell.”
    “I was thinking of putting it on little stickers and pasting them in all the library books.”
    They sipped their root beer and laughed and talked of inconsequential things and studied each other on the sly.
    He thought she was the most unusual woman he'd ever met, and she thought he was the most complex man she'd ever known.
    He marveled at her innocence, and she marveled at his boldness.
    He thought she'd really be beautiful if she'd let her hair down and loosen up and smile more often, and she thought he'd be a fine catch if he tried harder to make something of himself.
    In the midst of a discussion about movies, he leaned forward and caught her hand. “Margaret Leigh, which part did you lie about? Your being a one-man woman or me putting my mark on you?”
    “Both,” she said. Neither , she thought.
    “Good.” He wasn't above telling a lie himself. “Playing the field makes life more interesting, don't you think?”
    “Definitely.” She had no idea.
    “I'm glad we think alike.”
    He thought she lied with grace and charm, and she thought how she should have known you could never judge a book by its cover.
    The band struck up another slow tune, and Andrew escorted her to the dance floor once more. They surprised themselves at how much they liked dancing together. And midnight surprised them both.
    When Margaret Leigh looked up at the big clock on the wall, glowing with red and blue neon, she couldn't believe it. “Gracious, it's getting late.”
    He glanced at his watch. “Midnight's the shank of the evening, but it did come fast.”
    “I have to go home.”
    “I can promise you my pickup doesn't turn into a pumpkin.”
    “I don't like to leave Aunt Bertha alone too long. She's old and she does have a few health problems.”
    It was the first time he'd ever left the Pirates' Den before two o'clock. Hooter and James yelled something he didn't hear when he passed their way. It was just as well. What they had said wasn't fit for a lady's ears anyhow.
    He helped Margaret Leigh into his truck, got behind the wheel, and headed back to Allen Street. He'd thought she would be more relaxed going home than