Until She Met Daniel. Callie Endicott

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      “I don’t understand,” he said. “Why you?”

      “Why not me?”

      “You’re the Senior Center director.”

      “So?” Mandy had never believed a job well-done was beneath her, and having the title of “director” hadn’t changed her opinion. “I told you, I help out with stuff. I’ve gotten to know folks and I volunteer for community projects.”

      “But they said you were here most of the night.”

      “If it was going to get cleaned, that’s when it had to happen.”

      Daniel muttered something to himself.

      “Excuse me?” she prompted.

      “Nothing. I...thank you, again. You must be tired.”

      “There’s nothing I can’t accomplish as long as I have a big cup of coffee first thing in the morning.”

      He grimaced. “From the Handy Spandy?”

      “Heavens, no. That stuff must be filtered through potting soil.”

      “You have a gift for understatement.”

      She could sympathize since he’d obviously started his day with the worst coffee in creation.

      “Do you still need coffee?” she asked, deciding to be generous.

      “I meant to get a cup at lunch, but got distracted.”

      She swiveled in her chair, grabbed a clean mug and filled it from her coffeepot. “Here you go. There’s cream in that little refrigerator, if you want it, and sugar sitting on top.”

      He stared at the cup before accepting it. “Thanks. I usually take it black.”

      “You should get a coffeemaker in your office if you’re interested in a steady supply. You’re welcome to have what’s served in the parlor all day, but if you have a favorite type, you’ll want to make it yourself. I prefer my own.”

      No way was she going to offer him access to her pot. Having him run in and out of her office for coffee wasn’t a pleasing prospect, no matter how much she believed in hospitality. She didn’t dislike Daniel, exactly, but no woman enjoyed being around a guy who seemed to radiate a subtle air of disapproval at the same time he was revving up her pulse.

      “That’s probably what I’ll do, as well. I’ll return the mug later.”

      “No need. It’s from the Senior Center and we’ve got plenty.”

      Mandy breathed a sigh of relief when Daniel nodded and walked out...until he shut her door again. But before she could rise from her seat, it opened.

      “Sorry,” he said. “I forgot.”

      For the rest of the day, reminders of Daniel Whittier dogged her footsteps. A new person moving to Willow’s Eve was an event, and since nobody knew much about Daniel, speculation was rife. Even when she stopped in at the Handy Spandy to get romaine lettuce for dinner, the customers were discussing him.

      “Hey, Mandy, what’s the new guy like?” asked Janine Grey when they met in the produce area. She was Dorothy Tanner’s nineteen-year-old granddaughter and was home for a weekend visit from college.

      Mandy hesitated. It seemed best to say nothing much. “Mr. Whittier is very professional and appears determined to make a strong start in his job,” she replied. “I don’t know much more than that.”

      “Mom was wondering if he’s married with a family. She still has her casserole to bring over, but she doesn’t know how big to make it.”

      “Didn’t think to ask him. There wasn’t any family with him when he arrived. That’s all I know.” Mandy couldn’t think of anything more to say that wouldn’t get her into trouble. She put her lettuce back in the cooler, deciding to do without a salad with dinner.

      “Well, I’d better get going,” she said brightly, already heading for the door.

      A short while later, she settled into one of the Adirondack chairs on her patio, but Mandy couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel. The guy probably sent female hearts fluttering wherever he went, and she tried to recall what the mayor had said about him.

      Mid-thirties.

      Experienced in city management, with both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree from UCLA.

      The details had basically stopped at that point, since asking questions about a prospective employee’s personal life wasn’t allowed in interviews. But the mayor had said he thought Daniel wasn’t married. Being single could mean anything, but judging from the way Daniel had subtly checked out her bustline, he was heterosexual. A straight guy in his middle thirties could be single for any number of reasons, from having Peter Pan syndrome to being too cussed and obnoxious for any woman to want, no matter how attractive.

      Daniel could be divorced.

      Or he could have commitment phobias.

      Mandy’s ex had been just the opposite. Vince was so commitment eager, he couldn’t wait to get married. Though she didn’t question that his affection for her had been genuine, he’d probably also figured it would look good to the university if he were a solid, married man, and therefore perfect material to become a tenured professor.

      But why had she gone through with it?

      Never mind. That was long past. She had the here and now to deal with, and being attracted to Daniel might be a problem...the kind that sometimes meant it was time for her to move on again.

      On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she was a hormone-crazed kid. Vince had been nearly as good-looking, and she’d walked away from him with nothing more than relief. Her ex hadn’t cheated on or abused her. He was just stodgy as hell and couldn’t manage a conversation without quoting her father. But if good looks were the only thing that counted, she would have stayed.

      Which surely meant she could handle Daniel.

      With that reassurance, she put her feet on the footrest and listened to the crickets. It was a warm late-summer evening, the kind that seemed to have an especially golden feel before colder weather arrived. Of course, autumn wouldn’t be nearly as spectacular in California as it was in Connecticut, which was probably the thing she missed most about her home territory—the glorious, spectacular brilliance of fall trees and bushes. Sometimes she’d almost felt drunk on the color. But there was always something she missed about every place she’d lived since leaving her childhood home behind.

      Mandy leaned her head back and closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the evening. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps on the other side of the bushes separating her house from the city manager’s home. She breathed quietly and hoped Daniel wouldn’t realize she was sitting nearby.

      “Mandy?” his voice called.

      She sighed and sat up. “Yes.”

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