Chapter 1
“I’ll have my wife with me. She’s wanting to see something of the town before we move.” Warren Miller’s voice was clipped as he obviously brought the call to a close. “She was hoping your wife could give her some pointers on where to shop in Heaven.”
“I’m not married,” Nick Darling said. And not in any hurry to be, he added silently. Not after Michelle. He winced and waited for what he knew was coming.
“Well, bring a date then. Barbara is eager to know more about the town. See you tonight at seven.”
The phone clicked, and Nick sat with the dial tone ringing in his ears. Hanging up the phone, he swivelled in his chair and stared out the window. Bougainvillea bloomed in massive banks of hot pink and red, and saguaro cacti raised thick arms against the brilliant blue sky. Another day in paradise.
As far as Nick was concerned, Heaven, Arizona lived up to its name. In this friendly little town it was hard to believe the hustle and bustle of Phoenix was less than an hour away. Heaven had a lot going for it: friendly people, a strong sense of community, affordable housing. But not many single women. He pursed his lips and thought about his dilemma.
There were women back in Phoenix he could call, business associates mostly. But this was late notice for most of the women he knew, and most women wouldn’t relish the drive. This contract was too important to risk losing. He strummed his fingers on the desk, scattered with papers and candy bar wrappers. A sweet little old lady had sat with him the last two Sundays at church. Maybe she would have an idea of whom he could invite. What was her name? Oh, yes, Lucille Stoddard.
He grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages. Ah, there she was. Quickly dialing the number, he prayed she would have an idea.
“Hello.” Mrs. Stoddard’s voice was strong and confident. She sounded more like someone in her thirties than the seventy-something she looked.
“Hi, Mrs. Stoddard, this is Nick Darling.” Would she remember his name? “From church,” he added hastily.
Mrs. Stoddard seemed to be as alert as her voice, for she didn’t hesitate. “Nick dear, how lovely to hear from you! Are you settling into our little community all right? And call me Lucille, dear boy. We don’t stand on formality here in Heaven.”
It felt strange to call an older lady by her first name, but Nick made an attempt. “Ah, Lucille, I have a favor.”
“I told you to call me if you needed anything. What can I do for you?”
“A client is coming into town with his wife, and I need a female companion to help entertain her.”
“And you thought of me? Surely you can find someone your own age.” Her voice took on a teasing quality. “I’m only joking, Nicky—don’t panic. As luck would have it, I have three unattached granddaughters. Let me think—which one would be right for you?”
“I’m not interested in a relationship,” he hastened to add. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. The last thing he wanted was someone meddling with his love life. He could manage to mess it up without any help.
“I would treat her to a fancy dinner as thanks for entertaining the client’s wife, of course,” he added.
Lucille seemed not to hear his protests, and she swept on with her plans. “You’re an architect, aren’t you, Nicky?”
He hated to be called Nicky, but how did you tell a sweet, grandmotherly type that? He swallowed. “Yes.”
“My granddaughter Callie is just whom you need to meet. She’s an interior designer, very successful. You two will make a darling couple.” She laughed, a soft tinkle that raised Nick’s alarm. “A darling, Darling couple, just as your name says.”
He gritted his teeth. She was only trying to help. “It’s just one date,” he reminded her. And an interior designer was the last type of woman he would be interested in. If he ever married, he wanted the old-fashioned kind of woman who stayed home and raised
“I’ll have my wife with me. She’s wanting to see something of the town before we move.” Warren Miller’s voice was clipped as he obviously brought the call to a close. “She was hoping your wife could give her some pointers on where to shop in Heaven.”
“I’m not married,” Nick Darling said. And not in any hurry to be, he added silently. Not after Michelle. He winced and waited for what he knew was coming.
“Well, bring a date then. Barbara is eager to know more about the town. See you tonight at seven.”
The phone clicked, and Nick sat with the dial tone ringing in his ears. Hanging up the phone, he swivelled in his chair and stared out the window. Bougainvillea bloomed in massive banks of hot pink and red, and saguaro cacti raised thick arms against the brilliant blue sky. Another day in paradise.
As far as Nick was concerned, Heaven, Arizona lived up to its name. In this friendly little town it was hard to believe the hustle and bustle of Phoenix was less than an hour away. Heaven had a lot going for it: friendly people, a strong sense of community, affordable housing. But not many single women. He pursed his lips and thought about his dilemma.
There were women back in Phoenix he could call, business associates mostly. But this was late notice for most of the women he knew, and most women wouldn’t relish the drive. This contract was too important to risk losing. He strummed his fingers on the desk, scattered with papers and candy bar wrappers. A sweet little old lady had sat with him the last two Sundays at church. Maybe she would have an idea of whom he could invite. What was her name? Oh, yes, Lucille Stoddard.
He grabbed the phone book and flipped through the pages. Ah, there she was. Quickly dialing the number, he prayed she would have an idea.
“Hello.” Mrs. Stoddard’s voice was strong and confident. She sounded more like someone in her thirties than the seventy-something she looked.
“Hi, Mrs. Stoddard, this is Nick Darling.” Would she remember his name? “From church,” he added hastily.
Mrs. Stoddard seemed to be as alert as her voice, for she didn’t hesitate. “Nick dear, how lovely to hear from you! Are you settling into our little community all right? And call me Lucille, dear boy. We don’t stand on formality here in Heaven.”
It felt strange to call an older lady by her first name, but Nick made an attempt. “Ah, Lucille, I have a favor.”
“I told you to call me if you needed anything. What can I do for you?”
“A client is coming into town with his wife, and I need a female companion to help entertain her.”
“And you thought of me? Surely you can find someone your own age.” Her voice took on a teasing quality. “I’m only joking, Nicky—don’t panic. As luck would have it, I have three unattached granddaughters. Let me think—which one would be right for you?”
“I’m not interested in a relationship,” he hastened to add. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. The last thing he wanted was someone meddling with his love life. He could manage to mess it up without any help.
“I would treat her to a fancy dinner as thanks for entertaining the client’s wife, of course,” he added.
Lucille seemed not to hear his protests, and she swept on with her plans. “You’re an architect, aren’t you, Nicky?”
He hated to be called Nicky, but how did you tell a sweet, grandmotherly type that? He swallowed. “Yes.”
“My granddaughter Callie is just whom you need to meet. She’s an interior designer, very successful. You two will make a darling couple.” She laughed, a soft tinkle that raised Nick’s alarm. “A darling, Darling couple, just as your name says.”
He gritted his teeth. She was only trying to help. “It’s just one date,” he reminded her. And an interior designer was the last type of woman he would be interested in. If he ever married, he wanted the old-fashioned kind of woman who stayed home and raised
Similar Books
