alone? She’d never tried to reach out to the family, and the requisite Christmas cards had gone unanswered. When his mom had been alive, she’d sent a card to every family member—including Great-Aunt Loretta—every holiday season. Most had responded, but Great-Aunt Loretta had stayed silent and distant. And now here he was, with a will that entitled him to a pile of money, and a hundred puzzling questions.
“It’s okay,” he said quickly. She couldn’t ask too many questions or he might slip up and let on about the strange inheritance situation.
His train of thought was interrupted by the middle-aged waitress who came to take their order, and by the time she left he remembered that he was trying to get a wife. Time to put on the charm.
“So,” he said, “let’s talk about whatever kind of magic you’re going to work on the house.”
Ellie was a little suspicious of the sudden easy humor in his voice, but at the same time she couldn’t help blushing from the comment. “Well, I guess it depends what you want. We should talk about what kind of style you’re looking to bring to the place, types of furnishings, that sort of thing. Then I can give you a sort of preliminary guesstimate of price range and how long it might take, but we’ll need to actually walk through the space before I can give you solid numbers.”
Calvin shrugged helplessly, looking dramatically bewildered. “My apartment came pre-furnished! I’ve never thought about this in my life!”
Ellie found herself laughing, almost against her will. “Sorry, I suppose it must be overwhelming.” He grinned boyishly at her in response, and her heart warmed into curiosity. “Apartment where?”
“New York.”
“Like New York, New York?”
“Oh yes. High-rises. Steel and glass. Modern, sleek, beautiful—none of this old dusty stuff.” He gestured around, pointing either at the décor of Susie’s or the town in general. “Uh, not that this doesn’t have its charm.”
Well, that certainly put an end to his attractiveness. Ellie absolutely hated it when city folk were close-minded about the appeals of a small town—and Carterville was a nice place to be. She didn’t want to work with a man who couldn’t see that. Too bad the store desperately needed the business.
Say something, Calvin, darn it, he told himself firmly. “Quaint little place like this would be a novelty in Manhattan,” he said aloud. Surely this was the way to charm Ellie Parker. She’d looked adorably surprised when he’d said he was from New York. A sweet girl from a small town like this would be dazzled by the big city he was used to.
Across the table, Ellie gritted her teeth to keep her eyes from rolling. “I’m sure,” she said politely. Who did this Calvin Barnard think he was? Sure, Carterville was different from a big city, but some people actually preferred things that way. She’d never had any interest in busy streets, hours of infuriating traffic, and giant, imposing skyscrapers.
Without much of a response, Calvin kept talking anxiously. “When do things close around here? 8 p.m. or so? Strange to see it so dark last night. The city just glows at night out my window.”
Ellie took a slow, steadying breath. This man was pushing all her buttons in the exact wrong way. One more braggy comment about the big city and the novelty of an unfamiliar handsome face was going to wear off.
Maybe he could feel the force of her irritation, because she watched him nervously start twirling a fork again. Ellie tried to be polite and reply to his comment. “Yes, 8 if you’re lucky. A lot of places close around 5. It was definitely an adjustment when I moved home after college. Corvallis—where I went to school—isn’t a big city by any means, but it certainly is bigger and better lit than Carterville.”
Calvin was too startled to be tactful. “ You went to college?” As soon as the words
“It’s okay,” he said quickly. She couldn’t ask too many questions or he might slip up and let on about the strange inheritance situation.
His train of thought was interrupted by the middle-aged waitress who came to take their order, and by the time she left he remembered that he was trying to get a wife. Time to put on the charm.
“So,” he said, “let’s talk about whatever kind of magic you’re going to work on the house.”
Ellie was a little suspicious of the sudden easy humor in his voice, but at the same time she couldn’t help blushing from the comment. “Well, I guess it depends what you want. We should talk about what kind of style you’re looking to bring to the place, types of furnishings, that sort of thing. Then I can give you a sort of preliminary guesstimate of price range and how long it might take, but we’ll need to actually walk through the space before I can give you solid numbers.”
Calvin shrugged helplessly, looking dramatically bewildered. “My apartment came pre-furnished! I’ve never thought about this in my life!”
Ellie found herself laughing, almost against her will. “Sorry, I suppose it must be overwhelming.” He grinned boyishly at her in response, and her heart warmed into curiosity. “Apartment where?”
“New York.”
“Like New York, New York?”
“Oh yes. High-rises. Steel and glass. Modern, sleek, beautiful—none of this old dusty stuff.” He gestured around, pointing either at the décor of Susie’s or the town in general. “Uh, not that this doesn’t have its charm.”
Well, that certainly put an end to his attractiveness. Ellie absolutely hated it when city folk were close-minded about the appeals of a small town—and Carterville was a nice place to be. She didn’t want to work with a man who couldn’t see that. Too bad the store desperately needed the business.
Say something, Calvin, darn it, he told himself firmly. “Quaint little place like this would be a novelty in Manhattan,” he said aloud. Surely this was the way to charm Ellie Parker. She’d looked adorably surprised when he’d said he was from New York. A sweet girl from a small town like this would be dazzled by the big city he was used to.
Across the table, Ellie gritted her teeth to keep her eyes from rolling. “I’m sure,” she said politely. Who did this Calvin Barnard think he was? Sure, Carterville was different from a big city, but some people actually preferred things that way. She’d never had any interest in busy streets, hours of infuriating traffic, and giant, imposing skyscrapers.
Without much of a response, Calvin kept talking anxiously. “When do things close around here? 8 p.m. or so? Strange to see it so dark last night. The city just glows at night out my window.”
Ellie took a slow, steadying breath. This man was pushing all her buttons in the exact wrong way. One more braggy comment about the big city and the novelty of an unfamiliar handsome face was going to wear off.
Maybe he could feel the force of her irritation, because she watched him nervously start twirling a fork again. Ellie tried to be polite and reply to his comment. “Yes, 8 if you’re lucky. A lot of places close around 5. It was definitely an adjustment when I moved home after college. Corvallis—where I went to school—isn’t a big city by any means, but it certainly is bigger and better lit than Carterville.”
Calvin was too startled to be tactful. “ You went to college?” As soon as the words
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