they were. Especially on that day. She would receive cards, candy, flowers, stuffed toys and such. She felt that people should be loving and giving throughout the year, not, just on a certain day. She did have a generous and amorous nature.
She was also curious and a seeker of knowledge. As opposed to Barbara, she was more the nerdy type with a bit too much weight on. Who could
blame her with all the cake business going on around her all day long. There really isn’t any dependable information on St. Valentine other than he died on Feb 14th north of Rome on the Via Flaminia. It’s not even certain if he could be identified with one or two saints of the same name. It was all very vague and ambiguous as to why there should be a day for him. It wasn’t even a legal holiday. People didn’t take school or work of for it. To her it was a non-event. Her other girl friend Olivia said, "As women we’re expected to be starry eyed romantics. Which is unfair. Not everyone gets mushy over Valentine’s Day. Of course, not everyone has the disdain for it as you do either." "It would be okay if people didn’t make such a big deal over people who would rather take a pass on it. We’re not all devoid of poetry in our soul. Just because we’re not thrilled by that day." Callie returned.
Why was she even wasting her thoughts on this? She was to meet with a new client, Grant Kendall. She had had initial contact with him to discuss her catering his parent’s 40th anniversary party. That was something to truly celebrate. From just that brief interaction she found him to be intelligent, witty and goodhearted. He also had short, dark, wavy hair with brown eyes that had flecks of gold. Those were a complement to her shoulder length, straight, honey blonde hair with aquamarine eyes. Why was she daydreaming about that? She shook herself from her reverie. He was a client. She didn’t mix business with pleasure. The latter could seriously affect the former.
Callie took another slice from her prefered St. Valentine's cake and enjoyed her treat before gathering up her laptop, folders and case. She went out to her car and before she drove off, checked her report, to make sure she had the correct information. When she ascertained that she did, she put her seat belt on and started the engine. After she was done with the meeting with Mr. Kendall, she had Valentine’s decorations to pick up. Hearts and cupids and the like. She should have done this sooner, but, she was dragging her feet. Her friends considered her the Valentine’s version of Scrooge or the Grinch.
She turned the radio on and went through the stations she had preset. She wasn’t sure what she was in the mood to listen to. She’d know when she came across it. Maybe she’d put in one of her CD’s. She had pushed the button for the standards/big band station, when, she heard the beginning melody of, La Vie en Rose. She stopped searching. Her heart swelled up. She wasn’t sure why, but, this was one of those songs which always got to her.
For all of her friends, who didn’t think she had any poetry in her soul, well, here was an example of how romantic she could be. She just didn’t care for a phony holiday that was designed to make people feel bad if they weren’t coupled up. Though, to her, it wasn’t much better when you did have someone special. These things should happen naturally and sincerely. She was about to see a client. She didn’t have time for such ideas. Her friends would probably say she was in need of a relationship. She was too occupied with other matters to involve herself in one. She was attempting to get her business established. Something else they had encouraged her to do. Then they would say, having a dalliance, here and there, couldn’t hurt. She never could be that casual, however.
She let the song finish and then she turned the radio off. No music for right now. She needed to have a clear head. She pulled out of her driveway and made her way to Grant’s home. It was a 12 minute drive, as long as, the traffic was good. She contemplated what she would offer him. He had definite concept in mind. More than some of her clients. She would still mention other options. It was important to her that all of her clients be aware of their various choices. Before she knew it, she was pulling into his street and in front of his house. She did a quick check to make sure she was presentable. Why didn’t she wear something besides this simple peach top and cream colored pants? She had to remind herself, he was a client, not, a love interest.
When she reached the front door, she rang the bell. As she waited, she noted what a well kept yard he had. She also appreciated that he had an enclosed porch. It reminded her of her grandparent’s home. She was about to knock when she heard him ask, “Who is it?” “Hi, Grant, it’s Callie. Here for our appointment.” She answered. “Of course. I was in the back garden and had last track of time.” He responded, opening the door. He invited her in. “Let me show you to the living room. You’re welcome to make yourself comfortable, while I clean myself up a little.” He directed her to an overstuffed armchair. “Thank you. What a lovely room. Very inviting.” She told him, taking in the rich and vibrant colors of the furniture and artwork. “I tried to make it welcoming. I’ll be right back.” She glanced around and saw that the room was tidy, but, not fussy. Though in both a faded grey sweatshirt and blue jeans, with his hair a bit mussed, her breath had caught a little. She really must get a hold of herself.
Callie reviewed the file on Grant. She wanted to be engrossed in what she was doing when he returned. When he came back, he asked her if she would like to have anything to eat or drink. She said that ice water would be fine. He went to get it. She hoped she hadn’t stared, but, he was even better looking now. He had put on a pair of black jeans with a maroon and bronze pullover, which brought out the gold in his eyes. She stood to stretch and spied a tall bookcase that was filled to capacity and beyond. She began to peruse the selection. He had mysteries, thrillers, fantasy, paranormal. All the genres she favored. That would give them something other than his order to discuss.
"Find anything interesting?" He queried, as he entered the room. "I was intrigued to find that we have a similar taste in reading material." She responded, turning toward him. "I’m guessing, that we’ll discover we have many things in common." He remarked. How could he know that? She wondered, unless, he was also intuitive and perceptive. She had already learned, from their previous meeting, that he was smart with a good sense of humor. They went over to the coffee table and she sat back down in the chair. He placed the water, on a coaster, in front of her. He sat on the end of the couch closest to her.
"Before we begin, I was curious to know if you have any plans for Valentines’ Day." He inquired, with an engaging smile. "I’m not certain why you should care, but, at this time, I don’t." She replied, a little put off. "Then, I suppose, that means you’re not with anyone. Would you like to spend time with me?" He asked, with hope. "You’re a client. That would be highly irregular." She retorted, miffed. "I’m only one for my parent’s anniversary part. I felt something the first time we met and I wanted to be able to pursue it." He expressed, sincerely. Callie thought she was being tricked. "Rid yourself of the notion. I’m not interested. In dating anyone." She said the last to soften the blow. "Oh, I’m sorry." He sounded dejected. If it was possible, he was even more captivating, when he was pouting. She didn’t have to be so harsh. It might be fun, but for proprieties sake, it would need to be after the gathering.
"I’ll consider it, but, it would have to be after you’re no longer a client." She told him and then attempted to direct him to the task at hand. "All right, you’re fired. Now will you go out with me?" He exclaimed. "Why are you being so insistent? There will be plenty of time after. Why rush it now?" Callie said, firmly. "When I feel something quickly and strongly, as I have with you, I don’t waste any time. Plus, I’ve already made arrangements for Valentines." He admitted, sheepishly. She rose up quickly and began to gather up her things. "Rather presumptuous. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work with you. I do know I need to leave."
He put his hand on her arm and asked her to wait. She stopped her hurried movements. He left the room and came back immediately. He held out his hand and in it was a small purple plush bear. It melted
