“But you do,” Calliope observed. Paige wasn’t usually an alarmist, but concern for her friend was rolling off her in waves.
“She’s worried something’s wrong and frustrated because he just nods and tells her she’s being overly sensitive.” Paige glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Not that there were a lot of patrons at the moment. Aside from the kids and Calliope, only a few other tables were occupied, the one in the far corner by Dr. Selena Collins, the local vet. “Holly would be ticked at me if she knew I was telling you this, but maybe you could speak to her? Suggest she change doctors so she’s not stressed out over appointments?”
“What do you mean she thinks something’s wrong?” The midwife in her went on full alert. “Is she in pain?”
“No, not that I know of.” Paige leaned her arms on the table. “She says things are just different this time around than when she was pregnant with Simon. She’s sick all the time when she’s not here at the diner. Which is one reason she won’t leave, but I’m beginning to wonder if she’s right and something’s...off with the baby.”
Calliope didn’t like the sound of this. “Are you speaking as a nurse or her friend?”
“Both. Prenatal care is vital. Being scared isn’t an excuse not to go, but not trusting your physician is. She needs to change physicians.”
“Yes, she should.” And Calliope had just the right doctor in mind, but she’d known Holly for most of her life. Holly Saxon needed to be nudged in the right direction, not pushed at high speed.
“I don’t suppose you can tell if something’s wrong.” Paige bit her lip and looked almost embarrassed for asking. “I mean, you know what I mean. I heard you can tell things, especially with expectant mothers.”
“Are you referring to my unbroken streak of gender determination?” Eager to ease Paige’s uncertainty, she smiled.
“You’ve, what...? Guessed right seventeen times?”
“Eighteen, not that I’m counting.” Public perception really needed updating. “And not that I’m advertising. I’ll tell you what. You stay here and keep an eye on those three.” She looked pointedly at Simon, Charlie and Stella, surrounded by Simon’s infamous notebooks, frosty half-filled milk shake glasses and empty plates that once held grilled cheese sandwiches. “And I’ll go talk to her. No promises.” Calliope stood up and smoothed her skirt. She was happy to guide, but she never, ever, ordered. Free will was as important to life as oxygen.
“I’ll take what I can get.” Paige jumped up and squeezed her arm in thanks. “Speaking of getting. New customer.”
Calliope didn’t have to glance over at the door to know who had walked in. The charge in the room was enough of a warning. He carried a laptop bag in one hand and a long mailing tube tucked under his arm. He’d changed his shirt to one of sapphire blue that only made his piercing eyes all the more nerve-racking to her. The unbuttoned collar, slightly loosened tie and too-long black hair spoke more of sipping exotic coffee on the seashore than hovering over a laptop screen drawing pictures. Her gaze dropped to his hands—strong hands, long fingers, the slightly olive skin kissed by the sun.
“Calliope?” Paige’s brow pinched as she inclined her head. “Something wrong?”
“No, nothing.” Calliope curled her toes in her sandals. Did she walk ahead of Paige, in which case she’d clearly have to say hello to him, or did she wait until Paige led him to a booth on the other side...? What was wrong with her? When had she ever been indecisive?
Her hands flexed into fists. The last thing she or this town needed was a charming interloper. She knew the damage men like him could do; the pain they left in their wake. They’d offer a wink and a smile while snatching your heart. She’d been warned against men like this since she could walk, witnessed it firsthand as a teen. And she’d been dealing with the aftereffects ever since. “Hello, Mr. Costas.”
One way to ensure Xander Costas didn’t wreak havoc on her life was to keep him in sight: front and center.
The other way was to stay away from him altogether. Given this was the second time in only a few hours they’d encountered each other, she knew what choice had to be made.
“It’s Xander, please. And hello, again, Calliope.” Xander’s smile reminded her of sliding into a warm lavender-infused fizzy bath—equally relaxing and invigorating. “We seem to keep bumping into each other.”
“Yes, we do.” She took an almost stumbling step toward him, suddenly grateful for the nearly empty diner. She had enough of a reputation in town as an eccentric. She didn’t need to go making a fool of herself because of a stranger. “Ah, Xander Costas, Paige Bradley. Xander’s the architect who’s designing the butterfly sanctuary and education center. Xander, you met Paige’s daughter, Charlie, on the beach earlier, I believe.”
“Yes, I did.” He leaned over and glanced at the kids, then outside, where the dogs were waiting patiently. “Cute kid. And dog.”
“Thanks. I like them. Welcome to Butterfly Harbor.” Paige offered her hand and then grabbed a menu out of the holder. “How about I give you the seat with the best view?” She led the way to the center booth by the large windows. “You can never get too much of the ocean.”
“If you say so,” Xander said in a way that rankled Calliope’s nerves. The niggling suspicion that he was not the right man for the job kicked up a notch.
“I’m meeting the mayor here in a bit.” He set down his things before he took a seat. “But as I’m staving off jet lag I’d love to start with some coffee.”
“You got it,” Paige said.
“Meeting with the mayor already?” Calliope couldn’t stop herself from asking the question as Paige headed behind the counter. “That’s pretty quick work.”
“I don’t like to waste time.” He shifted in his seat to face her. “So far everyone’s been accommodating to my early arrival. Besides, the sooner I get done with this part of things, the sooner I can get home.”
“This part of things?”
“The face-to-face meetings. Getting a feel for the town, for the area where the education center and sanctuary is going to be. Get our plans approved.”
“Is that something that’s normally done so...quickly?” She heard the disbelief-tinged irritation in her own voice and pulled back. Stella was right. She didn’t sound particularly nice. “Forgive me as I know next to nothing about architecture. Or architects.”
“Every project is different. We’ve been known to take months coming up with design ideas.” He smiled as Paige set down his coffee. “Something like this is leaps-and-bounds easier.”
“Oh?” Something about the way he spoke ignited her impatience. “Why is that?”
“Well, it’s not as big as most projects I’ve worked on. Not much to it, really. A couple of buildings, a classroom or two. Throw it all together, one, two, three.” He reached behind him and patted the cardboard tube. “I’ve already got a sketch I think the mayor will be more than happy with.”
“Throw it all together.” Calliope’s insides burned.
