the kids, not a businesswoman. Someone as different from Michelle as desert from ocean.
She breezed past his caution again. “I’ll call Callie and arrange it. What time?”
“We have reservations at seven at Pedro’s. It’s that Mexican restaurant on Thunderbird.”
“I know it well, Nicky. Callie lives at 122 Cholla Lane. You need to pick her up around six-thirty to get there in time. Do you know where that is?”
He assured her he could find the house and hung up with a sense of relief. He just hoped she didn’t raise her granddaughter’s hopes that something would come of the date. He was much too busy to pursue anyone, even if he was so inclined, which he wasn’t. He wondered idly what this Callie was like. Of course the fact that she was available at a moment’s notice to go out with a man she’d never met said it all.
§
Callie Stevens turned the lamp over in her hands and considered it. The base was made from a worn cowboy boot and the lampshade from an authentic cowboy hat. The Driscolls would love it. Now if she could find a table to set it on. Maybe one of those made out of peeled logs. Though the Driscolls were from Boston, they were wild about the cowboy stuff. It was her job to incorporate it seamlessly into their five-thousand-square-foot home, but she thrived on the challenge.
The cell phone in her purse trilled, and she balanced the lamp against her hip while she dug in her purse for the phone. She managed to answer it on the fifth ring. “Design Solutions, this is Callie.”
“Callie, you’re free tonight, aren’t you?” Her grandmother’s voice was excited.
“Hi, Gram. Um, I guess.” Her heart sank at the thought of giving up her quiet evening. After the flurry of New York for the past two weeks, she’d been looking forward to plopping down in front of the TV and vegging out. But it was hard to deny her grandmother. Guilt rippled through her. She should have made plans to see Gram tonight without being prodded. It had been two weeks since she’d stopped by.
“Got something tasty cooking for supper?” she asked, forcing a jovial tone into her voice.
“Nick Darling is a new architect in town. He’s been sitting with me in church the past two weeks and joined the church while you were in New York. He just called, and he needs a date to help him entertain some important new clients. I told him you’d be happy to help him out.” She gave a soft chuckle. “I knew you wouldn’t have any other plans for tonight. You never do.” Her voice held more than a trace of reproach.
Callie gritted her teeth. “Gram, I’ve told you I don’t want you to do any more matchmaking for me, and I know Melissa and Mattie feel the same way.”
Her grandmother barreled over her objections like a four-wheeler over a mud track. “I gave him your address. He’s picking you up at six-thirty. Why don’t you wear that soft green dress that swirls so becomingly around your legs? It looks lovely with your auburn hair.”
“Gram, I am not going! I just got back from New York. An evening with strangers is not at all what I want to do with my first evening at home.”
“Well, now, Callie, I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t have the foggiest idea what his business is called. If you don’t go, I’ll have to, and my eyes aren’t what they used to be for night driving.”
Callie let out an exasperated sigh at the plaintive tone in her grandmother’s voice. She’d been boxed into a corner, and they both knew it. “All right, Gram, but I’m giving you fair warning. Do not arrange any more blind dates for me. Your success with Chelsea was a fluke, and I don’t want you thinking you can meddle like this all the time. I can find my own dates.”
Gram snorted. “When was the last time you went out on a date, Callie? In my day we called a girl your age who was still single an old maid.”
“Is that so bad?” Callie shot back. “I’m perfectly happy by myself. I have Ty, my job, my
She breezed past his caution again. “I’ll call Callie and arrange it. What time?”
“We have reservations at seven at Pedro’s. It’s that Mexican restaurant on Thunderbird.”
“I know it well, Nicky. Callie lives at 122 Cholla Lane. You need to pick her up around six-thirty to get there in time. Do you know where that is?”
He assured her he could find the house and hung up with a sense of relief. He just hoped she didn’t raise her granddaughter’s hopes that something would come of the date. He was much too busy to pursue anyone, even if he was so inclined, which he wasn’t. He wondered idly what this Callie was like. Of course the fact that she was available at a moment’s notice to go out with a man she’d never met said it all.
§
Callie Stevens turned the lamp over in her hands and considered it. The base was made from a worn cowboy boot and the lampshade from an authentic cowboy hat. The Driscolls would love it. Now if she could find a table to set it on. Maybe one of those made out of peeled logs. Though the Driscolls were from Boston, they were wild about the cowboy stuff. It was her job to incorporate it seamlessly into their five-thousand-square-foot home, but she thrived on the challenge.
The cell phone in her purse trilled, and she balanced the lamp against her hip while she dug in her purse for the phone. She managed to answer it on the fifth ring. “Design Solutions, this is Callie.”
“Callie, you’re free tonight, aren’t you?” Her grandmother’s voice was excited.
“Hi, Gram. Um, I guess.” Her heart sank at the thought of giving up her quiet evening. After the flurry of New York for the past two weeks, she’d been looking forward to plopping down in front of the TV and vegging out. But it was hard to deny her grandmother. Guilt rippled through her. She should have made plans to see Gram tonight without being prodded. It had been two weeks since she’d stopped by.
“Got something tasty cooking for supper?” she asked, forcing a jovial tone into her voice.
“Nick Darling is a new architect in town. He’s been sitting with me in church the past two weeks and joined the church while you were in New York. He just called, and he needs a date to help him entertain some important new clients. I told him you’d be happy to help him out.” She gave a soft chuckle. “I knew you wouldn’t have any other plans for tonight. You never do.” Her voice held more than a trace of reproach.
Callie gritted her teeth. “Gram, I’ve told you I don’t want you to do any more matchmaking for me, and I know Melissa and Mattie feel the same way.”
Her grandmother barreled over her objections like a four-wheeler over a mud track. “I gave him your address. He’s picking you up at six-thirty. Why don’t you wear that soft green dress that swirls so becomingly around your legs? It looks lovely with your auburn hair.”
“Gram, I am not going! I just got back from New York. An evening with strangers is not at all what I want to do with my first evening at home.”
“Well, now, Callie, I don’t know how to reach him. I don’t have the foggiest idea what his business is called. If you don’t go, I’ll have to, and my eyes aren’t what they used to be for night driving.”
Callie let out an exasperated sigh at the plaintive tone in her grandmother’s voice. She’d been boxed into a corner, and they both knew it. “All right, Gram, but I’m giving you fair warning. Do not arrange any more blind dates for me. Your success with Chelsea was a fluke, and I don’t want you thinking you can meddle like this all the time. I can find my own dates.”
Gram snorted. “When was the last time you went out on a date, Callie? In my day we called a girl your age who was still single an old maid.”
“Is that so bad?” Callie shot back. “I’m perfectly happy by myself. I have Ty, my job, my
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