that good at it?”
Behind us the party went on, and no one screamed about falling meatballs.
Nate was grinning. “Is life always this much fun around you?”
I thought about Houston’s bid for the house, Beth’s divorce, and my mother’s failing memory. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ll bet you’re wrong about that. At least you’re speaking to me.”
“And why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you haven’t returned my calls. After the third nonresponse I started to think you were sending a not-so-subtle message that I was too persistent to see.”
“You called me?” I said. “Here?”
“Are you surprised?”
“Well, I haven’t heard about any calls, and if I had, I promise you, I’d have phoned you back. I may be of another generation, but I don’t buy that girls can’t call boys.” I looked at him. “Wait, who did you talk to?”
“Your mother. At least she said she was your mother.”
We have one phone line that can be picked up at the Manse or the gatehouse. We arranged that when my mom moved down there so she wouldn’t miss her calls. I hadn’t bothered to change it, since there hadn’t been a need, but now it appeared there was one. “I’m sorry about that. My mother forgets things. And she obviously didn’t give you my cell number.”
“She gave me three different ones, and none of them were answered by you. Unless you sometimes go by Chenille.”
“Nope, that’s a bedspread, not an alias.” I went on with my explanation. “We have everything programmed into speed dial on my mother’s phone, which is why she doesn’t know the numbers.” It’s pretty bad when the man of your dreams has been trying to get a hold of you and you didn’t get the message. “How about if I buy you a drink in the other room?” I asked. “I’ll even offer you some pretty terrific hors d’eouvres—but I can’t recommend the meatballs.”
“I can understand that. I mean, who could top your expertise with them?”
“Pun intended?”
He grinned again. “Of course. James Boswell called a good pun ‘among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation. ’ And when I’m around you, everything is lively.”
I raised one eyebrow and so did he. Was there a double entendre in that statement? I wasn’t about to ask, but I swear, even his eyes were grinning. I could feel everything including my stomach starting to blush, which is totally unacceptable at my age.
I cleared my throat. “Shall we go get that drink?”
His face changed from teasing to disappointed. That’s one of the things I like about Nate: he’s not afraid to be alive. I also like that every cell in my body goes on red alert when he’s around.
“Kitzi, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Cordy has a sinus infection, and I just ran into town to drop off the necklace and pick up her prescription. I can’t stay.” I’d have argued, but I want him to be the kind of man who takes care of his sister. Who knows, I might need him to take care of me sometime. “But, I could stay long enough to get your cell number. And you could walk me to my car.”
“Absolutely. I’ll add it to my new exercise program.”
We went out through the kitchen door, and I was surprised to see that there was a security guard sitting at the opening to the tent. “Good evening,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand and introduce myself. “I didn’t know we’d have protection on the premises.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Charles Jones. I’ll be here until 2 a.m., and then someone’ll take over for me. It’s just to make sure that everything in the booths is safe.”
I hadn’t thought much about that either way, but at least I didn’t have to be responsible for all the jewelry inside the tent. “It’s nice to know you’re here,” I said. “If you need anything to eat or drink, just ring the bell on the back door and I’ll let you in. Or better still, I’ll put a key under the mat for you.”
“Thank you.”
I waved good-bye as we
Behind us the party went on, and no one screamed about falling meatballs.
Nate was grinning. “Is life always this much fun around you?”
I thought about Houston’s bid for the house, Beth’s divorce, and my mother’s failing memory. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ll bet you’re wrong about that. At least you’re speaking to me.”
“And why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well, you haven’t returned my calls. After the third nonresponse I started to think you were sending a not-so-subtle message that I was too persistent to see.”
“You called me?” I said. “Here?”
“Are you surprised?”
“Well, I haven’t heard about any calls, and if I had, I promise you, I’d have phoned you back. I may be of another generation, but I don’t buy that girls can’t call boys.” I looked at him. “Wait, who did you talk to?”
“Your mother. At least she said she was your mother.”
We have one phone line that can be picked up at the Manse or the gatehouse. We arranged that when my mom moved down there so she wouldn’t miss her calls. I hadn’t bothered to change it, since there hadn’t been a need, but now it appeared there was one. “I’m sorry about that. My mother forgets things. And she obviously didn’t give you my cell number.”
“She gave me three different ones, and none of them were answered by you. Unless you sometimes go by Chenille.”
“Nope, that’s a bedspread, not an alias.” I went on with my explanation. “We have everything programmed into speed dial on my mother’s phone, which is why she doesn’t know the numbers.” It’s pretty bad when the man of your dreams has been trying to get a hold of you and you didn’t get the message. “How about if I buy you a drink in the other room?” I asked. “I’ll even offer you some pretty terrific hors d’eouvres—but I can’t recommend the meatballs.”
“I can understand that. I mean, who could top your expertise with them?”
“Pun intended?”
He grinned again. “Of course. James Boswell called a good pun ‘among the smaller excellencies of lively conversation. ’ And when I’m around you, everything is lively.”
I raised one eyebrow and so did he. Was there a double entendre in that statement? I wasn’t about to ask, but I swear, even his eyes were grinning. I could feel everything including my stomach starting to blush, which is totally unacceptable at my age.
I cleared my throat. “Shall we go get that drink?”
His face changed from teasing to disappointed. That’s one of the things I like about Nate: he’s not afraid to be alive. I also like that every cell in my body goes on red alert when he’s around.
“Kitzi, I’m sorry, but I can’t. Cordy has a sinus infection, and I just ran into town to drop off the necklace and pick up her prescription. I can’t stay.” I’d have argued, but I want him to be the kind of man who takes care of his sister. Who knows, I might need him to take care of me sometime. “But, I could stay long enough to get your cell number. And you could walk me to my car.”
“Absolutely. I’ll add it to my new exercise program.”
We went out through the kitchen door, and I was surprised to see that there was a security guard sitting at the opening to the tent. “Good evening,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand and introduce myself. “I didn’t know we’d have protection on the premises.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m Charles Jones. I’ll be here until 2 a.m., and then someone’ll take over for me. It’s just to make sure that everything in the booths is safe.”
I hadn’t thought much about that either way, but at least I didn’t have to be responsible for all the jewelry inside the tent. “It’s nice to know you’re here,” I said. “If you need anything to eat or drink, just ring the bell on the back door and I’ll let you in. Or better still, I’ll put a key under the mat for you.”
“Thank you.”
I waved good-bye as we
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