The First Man You Meet. Debbie Macomber

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СКАЧАТЬ it. ‘‘Don’t take offense at this—I’m sure you’re a really great guy…. I just want you to know I’m not interested in marriage right now.’’

      Chapter Three

      JILL WAS SEATED at the table, doodling on the paper place mat, when Shelly arrived. ‘‘What kept you?’’ she asked. ‘‘I’ve been here for almost half an hour.’’

      ‘‘I—I fell off the escalator.’’

      Jill’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘‘My goodness, are you all right?’’

      Shelly nodded a bit sheepishly. ‘‘I’m fine…I think.’’

      ‘‘Shouldn’t you see a doctor?’’

      ‘‘I already have,’’ she explained, avoiding eye contact with her friend. ‘‘Well, sort of. The security guard called in the paramedics. A whole bunch of them.’’

      ‘‘No wonder you’re late.’’

      ‘‘I would have been, anyway,’’ Shelly admitted as she reached for a menu, though she’d decided an hour earlier what she intended to order.

      ‘‘This has really got you flustered, hasn’t it?’’

      ‘‘It’s more than the fall that’s unsettled me,’’ Shelly explained, lowering the menu. ‘‘It’s the man who caught me.’’

      Jill arched her eyebrows jokingly. ‘‘Aha! I should have guessed there was a man involved.’’

      ‘‘You might try to understand how I felt,’’ Shelly said reproachfully. ‘‘Especially since I haven’t recovered from receiving Aunt Milly’s wedding dress yet.’’

      ‘‘Don’t tell me you’re still worried about that first-man-you-meet nonsense.’’

      ‘‘Of course not. That would be ridiculous. It’s just…it’s just I can’t help feeling there might be something to that silly wedding dress.’’

      ‘‘Then mail it back.’’

      ‘‘I can’t,’’ Shelly said, slapping the menu down on the table. ‘‘Aunt Milly warned me not to—though not exactly in those words, mind you. She said I shouldn’t ignore the dress. I mean, how can I? It’s like an albatross hanging around my neck.’’

      ‘‘I still think you’re overreacting to this whole thing.’’

      ‘‘That’s the crazy part. I know I am, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I grew up hearing the legend of that wedding dress, and now it’s in my possession. I’ve got a piece of family history hanging in the back of my closet. Heaven forbid if my mother should hear about this.’’ She shuddered at that thought.

      ‘‘So you hung the dress in your closet.’’

      ‘‘I couldn’t very well keep it under my bed. I tried that, but I couldn’t sleep, so I finally got up and stuck it in the back of the closet.’’ She closed the menu and set it aside. ‘‘That bothered me, too. I tossed and turned half the night, then I remembered Aunt Milly had done the same thing when the seamstress gave her the dress.’’

      ‘‘She stuck it under her bed?’’

      Shelly nodded slowly. ‘‘I seem to remember hearing something like that. She’d tried to refuse it, but the old woman insisted Aunt Milly take the gown home with her. By the time she arrived at her apartment she’d already met my uncle John although she still didn’t know she was going to marry him.’’

      Jill raised a skeptical eyebrow. ‘‘Then what? After she put it under her bed and couldn’t sleep, I mean?’’

      ‘‘Well, she did the same thing I did,’’ Shelly admitted. ‘‘She shoved it into her closet.’’ Shelly felt as if she were confessing to a crime. ‘‘I didn’t want the thing staring me in the face so I hung it in the back.’’

      ‘‘Naturally.’’ Jill was trying, unsuccessfully, to disguise a smile. Shelly could see how someone else might find her situation humorous, but she personally didn’t think any of this was too amusing. Not when it was her life, her future, being tossed around like some cosmic football. At this rate, she’d be married and with child by nightfall!

      ‘‘That’s not the worst of it,’’ Shelly added. She exhaled slowly, wondering why her heart was still beating so fiercely.

      ‘‘You mean there’s more?’’

      She nodded. The waitress arrived just then and took their orders, returning quickly with tall glasses of iced tea. Shelly breathed in deeply before she continued. ‘‘I literally fell into that man’s—Mark Brady’s—arms.’’

      ‘‘How convenient.’’

      ‘‘It’s all very nice of him to have broken my fall,’’ she said sternly, ‘‘but I wish he hadn’t.’’

      ‘‘Shelly!’’

      ‘‘I mean it,’’ she insisted. She glanced around, as if to make sure no one was listening, then added, ‘‘The man’s an accountant.’’

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