4. Callie
CHAPTER 4
CALLIE
“ C allie, so glad I caught you. I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off, making no progress today.”
“Eww. Mom.” I’m glad I finished my sandwich before she called.
“As Sadie’s maid of honor, I need to be able to rely on you?—”
“Mom, I planned the bachelorette party, I’ve been making and ordering props for the photo booth, I drove all the way to the next county to pick up the cake knife you wanted, I’ve been helping Sadie work on her vows, and I’ll be over this weekend to assemble the table favors. Yet you act like I’m not doing anything.”
“I didn’t say that, Callie. It’s just that there’s so much to do, and time is getting tight.”
I’d like to reassure her, but it won’t do any good.
She continues on, her words tumbling one after the other in a rush. “Next on my list today is place cards, and we’re behind on those, since the seating chart took so long.”
Again, I bite my tongue. I was present for some of the seating chart discussions. I got to watch my mom turn a pile of dust into Mt. Everest. This aunt can’t sit next to this cousin; this person’s going to be mad if they’re too far back in the room, etc., etc.
The whole thing made me relieved that I’m never getting married, and if I’m ever somehow dumb enough to change my mind, I’ll be sure to elope.
“Did you decide who you’ll be bringing to the wedding?” she asks. This question, that I knew was coming, is the reason I should have opted for the avoidant approach today.
Did I decide? She makes it sound like I have a row of suitors lined up, all vying to escort me to the ball.
“No, mom. I told you I don’t want to bring a date to the wedding. Besides, I’ll be busy fulfilling my maid of honor duties. I won’t have time to entertain a date.” I can’t contain my snarky tone, but Mom ignores it.
“Callie, you need to bring a date. I’ll check back with you in a few days.” That subject put on hold, she launches into a discussion about the handful of guests who have so rudely not yet RSVP’ed—her words, not mine. I listen patiently, even though none of it has anything to do with me.
After a few more updates and a run-through of her agenda for the rest of the day, she clicks off, and I slump back in my car seat. So much for relaxing during my break.
I’m so happy for my sister and want her wedding to be special, but I also can’t wait for it to be over. Mom is trying so hard to impress Adam’s family, and worrying so much about every detail being perfect, but the wedding should just be about Sadie and Adam’s love.
I frown as the thought crosses my mind. After what Rick did to me, how can I possibly have a romantic bone left in my body?
Later, after the dinner rush is winding down and my shift at Big Daddy’s is almost over, a recently-familiar face comes through the entrance. He’s dressed in cargo shorts, a t-shirt, and an open short-sleeve button down now, but his hair is still stylishly tousled, and his brown eyes catch my attention immediately.
He doesn’t notice me yet, and I’m sure he won’t be pleased when he does. Unless he somehow tracked me down to tell me what a crap yoga teacher I am.
After studying the menu board for a full minute, he finally approaches the counter. I brace myself, prepared for, at the very least, his resting grump face, but instead, he greets me with an easy smile and a friendly, “Hello.”
“Hi…” I’m waiting for some kind of reaction, but I get none.
“It’s my first time in. What do you recommend?”
Dumbfounded by both his lack of recognition and his suddenly pleasant persona, I stare back at him, frowning.
“I could eat just about anything. I’m starving today.”
Part of me is puzzled by his friendly demeanor and how talkative he suddenly is; the other part of me is annoyed and a little hurt that he doesn’t recognize me. Sure, I’m wearing a navy blue Big Daddy polo shirt instead of yoga clothing, but my hair is the same as it was in class this morning, and last I checked, I have the same face that I had twelve hours ago.
I caught this man checking me out several times during class, but maybe his eyes didn’t make it beyond my chest often enough to form a memory.
It’s also possible he does recognize me and is intentionally pretending he doesn’t to save his ego, but I don’t think that’s the case.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?”
He lifts his brows, then tilts his head like an adorable cocker spaniel and rubs the back of his neck. “Umm…”
“Yoga class this morning.”
His lips curve into a warm grin. “That’s right. Sorry, I must have been distracted.”
There’s still no sign of the grunting caveman from earlier. Is it possible that he’s just not a morning person? Maybe, like me before my iced coffee, he was half asleep.
“I’m really sorry for what happened in class,” I say. “I should have realized you were off balance.”
Little lines crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Aww, it’s okay. No problem at all. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Well, thank you, I appreciate you saying so. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll take a yoga class again?”
Now the man ducks his head, his eyes fixed on me from beneath his dark brows. His teeth briefly capture his bottom lip as his gaze dips downward. “I’d say there’s a good chance, as long as you’ll be there.”
Now he’s flirting with me?
The man I met this morning wouldn’t have been able to flirt his way across the street with GPS.
His eyes linger on me for a long moment before he glances up to the menu again. “So what do you recommend?”
I’m almost too shaken to answer as my brain struggles to reconcile this charming man with the sourpuss who was in my class this morning. Finally, I manage to say, “The Classic Big Daddy is the most popular sandwich. It has turkey, ham, and roast beef, with swiss and provolone.”
“Sounds good, but which is your favorite sandwich?”
This flirting is new, but his voice is definitely just as I remember it, and he’s using it to its full effect. In fact, the deep rumble of it sets off a little tingle deep in my belly. His good looks don’t hurt either, and the amount of focus he’s directing my way is positively intoxicating.
“Um… I usually get the West Coast, or the Greek. They’re both really good if you like chicken.”
“Great. I’ll take one of each of those.” He starts to reach around for his wallet, and I can’t help but remember how good his backside looked this morning.
“One of each?” I gesture with both of my hands. “The sandwiches are really big.”
“Perfect.” His neck swivels, looking around the restaurant, finding the soda station. “Two large drinks, too, and two bags of chips.”
My eyes immediately go to his left hand. I didn’t notice a ring earlier, but maybe he wouldn’t wear it to the gym. Nope, still no ring. Probably a girlfriend, though. And he has no business flirting with me.
I don’t know why I care, though. I’m done with men, at least until I’m so old that I lose my memory and forget what assholes they are.
The door chimes, alerting me that another customer is coming in. A whole family, in fact.
I give Mr. Hot & Cold an impersonal smile as I gesture to the card reader, and then I look past him to greet the new arrivals.