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She wasn’t hearing me…as usual. “Calamity, is that any way to greet your mother after an entire MONTH without communication?”
I closed my eyes momentarily. “Please don’t call me that mom. How are you, I’m sorry I haven’t called I’ve just been busy…”
Again, she cut me off. “That’s your name, why shouldn’t I call you by it? You’ve been busy…psst! Busy doing what? Arranging books? That quiet little bookstore never sees more than two customers at a time. When are you coming home?”
And there it was, the age old question. I sighed. “Mom, I don’t get vacation here, and I will lose my studio if I take more than a day or two off. I promised to come for the holidays this year, remember?”
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. When are you coming home, to stay, Calamity? You don’t belong in New York, you cannot possibly be happy there…”
I cringed. “Oh, geez, I’m sorry mom, there’s a customer I need to help, so sorry, love you, talk to you soon, bye.” I disconnected the phone with a deep exhale.
“Rough conversation, huh?” The sultry, deep voice made me jump, and I’m pretty sure I released a little squeak of surprise.
When I looked up, I almost died. It was, of course, Mr. Smoking hot cowboy. I gave him a polite smile, still trying to recover my surprise. “I’m so sorry about that, just, you know, moms…”
He chuckled, and I sighed at the warm honey feeling it emitted deep in my bones. “Oh, yeah, I know how moms can be. Trust me, mine’s probably worse.”
I found myself smiling, not a polite smile, but a genuine smile. Why was this guy so easy to look at, and talk to? It was like a double edged sword. “So, what can I do for you sir?”
He tipped his head to the side slightly, a handful of his dark hair falling over his ear and his golden eyes studied me. “Well, Miss Callie, I actually didn’t come in here for a book today. I was…well…” he cleared his throat and then laughed. “Geez I sound like a high school kid. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have dinner?”
I was waiting expectantly, but it sure the hell wasn’t for that. I found myself blinking stupidly, and when I finally began to recover, I was flabbergasted. “Uh, well that’s…I, um…I don’t know if that’s a good idea…I don’t really know you….”
He nodded his head in understanding. “Yeah, I know. I mean, we could meet up somewhere, anywhere you like, completely public so you wouldn’t have to worry. I’m leaving town tomorrow, and to be honest with you, I’d really like to get to know you a little before I go.”
I’m not sure if it was his sexy good looks, his polite mannerisms, the country-boy appearance, or just everything all bundled together, but I heard myself saying, “Well, I could probably be found at Sloan’s Pub around…seven-o-clock?”
His grin lit up the whole space, and I was grateful there was a stool beneath me to keep me from falling. “Sounds great, Callie, I’ll see you there.”
My brain screamed,oh god, I was in deep horse manure. What the heck had I just gotten myself into?
Berating myself for agreeing to meet up with him was the easy part of my afternoon. Figuring out what to wear, well that was just impossible. I had nothing date-worthy in my closet, and I was at a complete loss as to what the heck to wear. I mean, I wasn’t even sure why he asked me out anyway. Looking at myself in the mirror-post shower-I didn’t think he was really interested. This was New York, for crying out loud. You could find some of the most beautiful women here, super models, super model wanna-be’s, women in Armani suits, women who-unlike me-could actually look good on a date.
Pulling out my cell, I dialed the number of my best friend. I was in desperate need for help. She picked up on the second ring. “Callie? Is it really you? I thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth!”
I laughed. Leave it to Samantha to be dramatic. “Hey Sammy. Sorry I haven’t called in a while. Look, I need some clothing advice…”
Across the line, I heard her suck in a deep breath. “OH. MY. GOSH. You have a date, don’t you?”
I chuckled softly. “Well not a date really…but…” over the course of the next twenty minutes, I told her all about the hot cowboy, and about him asking me to dinner. When I had finished, explaining it wasn’t really a date, I waited for the silence to end.
When Samantha finally replied, her voice was firm. “This is totally a date!” there was a shrieking noise, which I knew from experience was her sound of excitement. “Oh my gosh, oh…I’m totally jealous! So, you have to look HOT. And I mean like H.O.T hot! You need to get your ass out there and find that little black dress that shows off all your delicious curves.”
I groaned. “I think that’s what’s bothering me, Sam. I really can’t see this guy being all that interested in me, so I’m not sure why he even asked me to dinner.”
“Dude, Callie, you are totally gorgeous, so do not let yourself think that. He’d be a fool not to appreciate you. Just go get that dress, look smoking hot, and just enjoy the evening. And…if you guys happen to have some mind-blowing sex afterward, I need details…I’m having a dry spell.”
I laughed. “Thanks Sam, you always know how to cheer me up, but f.y.i, there will be no sex. I will talk to ya later.” Hanging up, I wondered where I should shop for this dress.
Two hours and way more money than I had wanted to spend later, I surveyed myself in the mirror in my tiny studio. The dress I’d bought wasn’t black, but rather a deep blue, and it was the most form-fitting thing I had ever worn. It hugged my body, ending just above my knees where it crinkled up on the outside of each thigh. The top was two folds of crinkled material that wrapped from my back, over my shoulders and across opposing breasts. The result was a lot of exposed flesh. My breasts were covered, but there was a good view of cleavage, and my back was more than partially exposed.
The dress fit like a glove, hugging my wide hips, and my relatively large breasts. I was grateful I still had the defined legs and arms of someone who had spent a lot of time riding horses. I was, more or less, pretty fit, but I’d always had curves. I had to admit, the dress made me feel stunning, even if I was slightly modest about such a daring show of skin and my figure. My brown hair wasn’t exactly brown or black, but somewhere in-between. I had decided to wear it down, and it fell around my shoulders in naturally soft waves.
I put a little make-up on, but not too much because I preferred the natural look. My skin was light, especially since living in New York I didn’t spend as much time in the sun as I once had. I put on mascara, a little light concealer, although I had been blessed with a clear complexion, and lips gloss. Nodding to myself, I thought, okay I can do this. It was just dinner and maybe a drink with a good-looking guy, and tomorrow he’d go back to wherever he came from, and that’d be that.
3
Walking into the small pub, I was a few minutes early so I figured Mr. Cowboy-whose name I didn’t even know-wouldn’t be there yet. I scanned the people seated near the bar as well as the tables scattered around, and then my eyes roved appreciatively over the broad, strong back of a man seated at the bar. His white dress shirt stretched tightly over his shoulders and kept no secrets about the muscles lurking beneath. His long legs were covered with new-looking jeans, and his dark hair was slightly long, hanging around his ears but short at the base of his hairline.
