They met at a trendy little Italian café. Emmet had been initially horrified at the proposal until Elizabeth reminded him that marrying his type of woman resulted in a nasty divorce. The least he could do was step out of his box and go on a date with someone new. Someone he would not have had the initiative to consider.

'I have initiative' Emmet mumbled truculently. He had put up a fight but Liz had outwitted him until he felt like there was nothing he could do but decide on a tie and go.

'And then you can stare at her legs all you want, I'm sure she won't mind' added Liz wickedly. Emmet protested but his sister wasn't wrong. He had vowed that he was off relationships. Even dates that could lead to relationships. And all dates. But Liz wouldn't hear of him turning down an opportunity. She had chosen the café. He wondered why, as he drove out to it. Rose was there, in a short black and pink dress, moulded to her figure. Damn, there went his concentration again.

They nursed cups of coffee and a plate of mini pastries while she questioned him on his choice of piano music and what he did for a living and that she too, was musically minded. He was impressed to find out that she possessed a glowing contralto and had an appreciation for music that he didn't often find in his life. Maybe they could try out some songs together? He was enjoying her company immensely.

'How are your memoirs going?'

Rose looked surprised to be asked.

'To be honest, not terribly well. I'm stuck on chapter eight.'

'What's on chapter eight?'

'The one time I got married.'

'Oh? I was married until three years ago. What are the other chapters about?'

She shrugged.

'About the times I wasn't married, I suppose. My childhood and family, the men I've been disappointed by, my wedding dress and other memorable outfits. But never mind me, what about you?'

She leaned forward tantalisingly and Emmet caught a hint of her perfume, warm and smoky. This was a woman built for hedonism and he felt an unexpected thrill course through him.

'Have you ever thought of writing it as a fiction novel? That way you can write it honestly and then nobody could accuse you of anything because technically it wouldn't be an autobiographical account.'

'You're a genius' she exclaimed. 'I could kiss you!'

Horror shot through Emmet as he contemplated such spontaneity…he didn't have a chance to think before Rose took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly. Oh it was glorious. He melted into her (what a feeling he'd never felt before) and responded with tender enthusiasm. When they broke it off, he was aware of a presence standing on the other side of the window. Tearing his eyes away from the woman in front of him, he met the eyes of another one glaring in shock. Oh now he knew why Liz had suggested this café. He hadn't credited her with such a devious side. Melanie was walking past. His ex-wife Melanie. Once a woman that was quite his type, now someone he didn't trust anymore.

'Who is that?' Asked Rose as she twisted around her seat.

'My ex-wife.'

Emmet was grinning like a fool, he had pink lipstick all over his face and he didn't care.

'She looks…stern' said Rose tactfully.

'Yes. Anyway, shall we discuss the possibility of you accompanying me on the piano sometime?'

Melanie looked furious but as she had no right to be. Seeing him with a woman he'd never have taken notice of before, it made the moment even sweeter. He was warming to Rose very much.

Rose reached over to wipe the lipstick off his face.

'I'd love to. I have lots of suggestions.'

Her coy tone made him realise that he was in for a good evening. Bother Melanie, she had no hold over him anymore. How did Liz know that this was a café she might frequent? He might have to buy her some more jewellery.

Thank the lord for sisters.