Imogen could feel her cheeks reddening.
‘He is definitely checking you out!’ babbled her best friend Laura over the noise of the busy coffee shop.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Imogen replied. ‘He must be half my age.’
‘Well, that’s as may be,’ Laura said. ‘But from where I’m sitting, age doesn’t seem to matter.’
The pair were having an afternoon catch-up after Imogen’s hair appointment in town. From the moment they had ordered their coffees, it became clear – to Laura at least – that the new barista had taken a shine to Imogen.
Now, Imogen was sitting with her back to him as he worked behind the counter, and Laura was giving a running commentary on the situation.
‘He’s gorgeous! Could be French, maybe Spanish… Oh, he’s looking over here again… He can’t take his eyes off you… and what stunning eyes… I’d kill for lashes like that…’
Imogen just wished her friend would change the subject. They were both in their 50s. Why on earth would a good-looking guy his age be interested in either of them?
Only, as Laura kept peering over at the counter, Imogen had to admit to herself that she did feel a spark of electricity when the barista had beamed at her.
Was it crazy to think there had been more to it than friendliness? After all, she was a mum to two grown-up girls, with a husband and a pile of ironing waiting at home.
Laura was always telling her how beautiful she was. Which was nice of her friend, but Imogen would shake her head.
‘It’s true!’ Laura would protest. ‘Look at you! Naturally gorgeous. Perfect skin and hair, fit as a fiddle. All those yoga and Zumba classes have clearly paid off.’
Now, pushing back her sleek blonde bob, Imogen smiled and allowed herself just a brief moment of self-indulgence. Perhaps a handsome young man really had found her attractive.
‘Hang on!’ Laura’s voice suddenly dropped to a whisper. ‘He’s
