“Oh?” She looked over, unable to hide her interest.
“I was in a restaurant—it’s closed now—but he was eating with a group of friends. An older lady at a nearby table left and forgot her purse beside her plate after she’d paid. He noticed and grabbed it, running after her. I watched through the large window as he ran full speed down the street after her car, all the way to the stoplight where he finally flagged her down and handed it to her through her window.”
“How thoughtful,” she said, realizing that she’d completely turned around toward Gladys, the paint roller at her side.
Gladys smiled. “You like him.”
Callie rolled her eyes and turned around to resume painting.
Gladys must have sensed Callie’s unwillingness to discuss it because she moved on to another topic. “Olivia mentioned a birthday party.”
“Yes, it’s tonight.”
“At Mr. Sullivan’s?”
Well, she thought Gladys had changed topics.
“Yes.” Callie swiveled around and set the roller down again, her focus completely disrupted. She struggled to keep from smiling. “I just don’t need any interruptions to my life at the moment, Gladys,” she said.
“Mmm.” Gladys nodded. She never had to actually say anything to let Callie know her opinion.
Callie shook her head and started painting again. She didn’t need distractions, but did that mean she didn’t want them?
Callie unpinned her hair, which now resembled a bent hanger, since it had dried in the clip she’d put it in after her shower this afternoon. She set the clip down on top of Alice’s journal and shook her hair out with her fingers, but it didn’t help. Gladys was still there, puttering around the kitchen downstairs with Olivia and Wyatt. Only moments before, Gladys had run home and returned with a jug of lemonade and a key lime pie.
Just as Callie was starting to worry about what to wear to the party, her phone lit up and she recognized that new number. It was Luke.
“People will be in and out all day. What time should I tell Julie you’re coming?” he asked after a quick hello.
She could only assume he meant his sister, Juliette Sullivan, who she’d read had moved to New York to start her own casual wear fashion line. A few of the boutiques in town had her pieces on display. According to local legend, the line was started entirely with her daddy’s money, and she’d yet to make the millions she’d promised him she would. But Callie had also read that a few big designers had taken notice and Juliette’s line had made it into a couple of department stores in New York, so she might still redeem herself.
Callie was about to go to the Sullivan mansion for a birthday party. She’d already worn the most expensive dress in the cottage on their date. What were she and Olivia supposed to wear today? They hadn’t even had time to go shopping for a gift, let alone an outfit, and he wanted a time. She looked at the clock.
“Why are you so quiet?” he asked.
“Umm…” Callie panicked, flopping down onto the air mattress, unsure of how to answer. She peered into the open closet. Most of their clothes were still in storage.
“What?” he asked, and she was surprised by the gentle sound in his voice, as if he really wanted to know, almost like he was worried about her.
She picked at the light blue paint that remained in the ridge of her fingernail and tried to figure out how to explain it to him. What was frustrating her was the fact that he’d probably never worried about something like this in his life. What if he thought she was making excuses and she didn’t want to go? That wasn’t true at all, because she’d love to give Wyatt a fun night out. And, if she was honest, she wanted to see Luke. Dropping her hand into her lap, she decided to just come out with it. “I don’t have any clothes nice enough for a party at your house.”
“That’s what you’re so quiet about? I don’t care what you wear. Wear whatever you want,” he said with a chuckle.
“Luke…” She took in a breath and lay back on her air mattress, running her fingers through her crooked curls. “Olivia and Wyatt don’t have anything either. In fact, I don’t even know the dress code. What do people wear to things like this? My few outfits are covered in paint, and the dress I wore for drinks with you is dirty.”
“Just wear something casual.”
Callie groaned. “There’s casual and then there’s bag lady attire. I’m not joking, Luke. I think I have to go shopping.”
“I like the bag lady look. I think you can pull it off.”
She rolled her eyes and sucked in her smile even though he couldn’t see it. “No. I’ve got to go anyway to get a present for the birthday boy. So be straight with me, are we talking dresses or shorts and T-shirts?”
“I’ll come with you. I promised Julie I’d pick up some balloons anyway.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t? Okay, never mind then,” he teased.
Callie sat silently on the end of the phone. She wanted him to come. She wanted to see him.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
She couldn’t stop herself from grinning.
Sherry’s was the name of a boutique that had only recently opened, the retail market being quite limited in Waves. Most of the shopping was further north in the villages of Nags Head and Duck. As advertised, Sherry’s had Juliette’s line in the window. It was situated in the center of the one small, renovated strip mall in town. Callie wasn’t sure they could afford anything from the shop but she figured she could have a look and maybe get some ideas, then move on to the next. It was quiet today—no reporters. Luke opened the door and allowed them to enter first, Wyatt trailing behind Callie and Olivia. They’d promised him an ice cream cone if he could endure all the clothes shopping. He was giving it his best effort, they could tell.
While Olivia thumbed through a rack of tank tops, Callie turned to Luke. “So what would you pick out?” she asked. He was wearing a perfectly worn, pale blue T-shirt with a stylishly faded boating logo on the front and a pair of shorts, and he looked more like a surfer than a millionaire, his bronze skin and bleached streaks in his hair revealing long days on the beach. She wondered what it would be like to run her fingers down his arm. She pulled her eyes away. When had she last felt like this? Had she ever?
He stared at her, clearly out of his comfort zone but trying to come up with something. Perhaps he’d been expecting to just weigh in on her choices rather than being asked to pick something at random.
“This isn’t hard,” she said. “Look around. Think about any girl you know, and imagine what she might be wearing at your party.” She pulled a top from one of the racks and held it up. “Would she wear this to the party?”
He looked into her eyes and then his gaze moved around her face. “No,” he said with a smile.
She hung it back with the others. “How about this?”
He shook his head.
“Okay, then. Find me something she’d wear.”