Dates And Other Nuts by Lori Copeland Page B

what my schedule will be.”
    â€œNo problem. I’ll check with Ginny.”
    She slipped out of the car before he could say anything more, and shut the door. Giving a brief wave, she ran up the stairs and into her apartment.
    Switching on a lamp, she stood a moment to enjoy the soft light bathing the small but cozy room in a warm, welcoming glow. Home sweet home. Her headache began slipping away and she drew a deep, cleansing breath to calm her nerves.
    She dropped her purse onto the couch, kicked off her shoes and continued into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of milk.
    Leaning against the cabinet, Temple stared out the window. Mrs. King’s lights were off. She went to bed with the birds. One by one, the lights on the block went off as people turned off televisions, put the cat out, and pulled the shades.
    She sighed as she thought of the five years she’d spent in the crowded but energetic Dallas/Fort Worth area. There was something here for everyone. The problem was, what was that something for her?
    Lately, her life reminded her of the old story about the planeload of passengers who were waiting for drinks to be served, when they spotted their flight attendant crawling down the aisle, frantically peering under seats and around feet. Amazed, they watched as she leaped up and continued her frenzied search through the upper storage compartments.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” one passenger finally demanded.
    The harried attendant whirled. “I’m looking for the romance that was promised me!”
    The untutored believed the stories about hostesses meeting and marrying first-class megabucks men. The tantalizing tales of lengthy layovers in exotic locales. The crew parties with cases of French champagne.
    Temple had never really expected romance. Hoped for it, maybe. The travel was still a nice part of her job. But she’d dreamed that among the new people she met there would have been someone special.
    Temple sighed again, drinking her milk as she gazed at the night sky.
    Bright stars dotted the velvet-black sky, and the sliver of a moon hung over the backyard fence. A perfect night, if only there was the perfect man to spend it with.
    Drawing a deep breath, she padded into the living room and relaxed on the couch, flexing her toes as she closed her eyes.
    Who was the perfect man?
    Not Bill Moffit.
    Nor the pet store owner who had a passion for boas and thought she should have one of his slithering friends as a roommate.
    Nor the car salesman who had the perfect deal for her; the advertising copywriter who’d been all puffed up with pride because he’d been nominated for a local ADDY award; nor the television cameraman who was impressed by his acquaintance with a minor celebrity who hosted an area talk show; nor the minor league baseball player whose total focus was on getting to “the brigs.” Not a “perfect” man among them. Forget perfection. She’d settle for normal.
    A man who could carry on a normal conversation, not a running narrative.
    A man who was sensitive, concerned, interested in something other than himself and his own small world.
    She carried her milk into the bathroom and stared at her reflection in the mirror over the sink.
    Where was the man who could appreciate who she was and what she wanted to do? A man who made a woman feel strong and confident, yet protected and needed.
    Her mouth turned down as she remembered the evening she’d just survived.
    A man who didn’t total his date’s dinner on a napkin.
    A man like Craig.
    Nuts .

8
    â€œS TEVENS AN airline pilot. Who would’ve thought it?” Jack Ladue leaned forward, a knowing grin in his eyes. “What’s the attraction? The flight attendants? Eh?” Jabbing Craig in the ribs, he grinned. “What I wouldn’t give to be in your shoes.”
    Craig smiled. He and Jack had been passing friends in college, but they hadn’t kept in touch except to