A Match Made in Heaven

by Colleen Coble

  Barbara waved a hand. “I really don’t care as long as everyone gasps when they see it,” she said. “I want to bring a bit of city elegance to Heaven. It could certainly use it. I want it to stand out and be the talk of the valley.”

  That would suit Callie as well. “I have carte blanche?” she asked.

  “Absolutely.” Barbara turned to Nick. “She’s in charge, Nicky. You do whatever she wants.”

  She could sense the tension in Nick, and she was sorry their earlier good relations had given way to this. But this was the chance of a lifetime, and she wasn’t about to let Nick Darling spoil it. Her head buzzed with ideas, and her fingers itched for her pencil and drawing pad. It was all she could do to maintain civilized conversation during the rest of the evening.

  They said good-bye to the Millers in the parking lot and promised to meet them at the front door to the church Sunday morning. As soon as the older couple had hurried away, Nick gripped Callie’s elbow and propelled her toward the truck.

  When they were both in the cab and out of range of others’ hearing, he turned to her. His gaze was angry and uncompromising. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am in charge of this project. I am the architect, and I will decide the final design. You work around the architectural design. I don’t work around the interior design.”

  Callie hadn’t wanted to offend him, but his high-handed manner infuriated her. “You heard Barbara,” she said sweetly. “I’m in charge.”

  Nick gritted his teeth. “I think not,” he said quietly. “When you think about it, you’ll see this is the only way that makes sense.”

  In fact, that was the one thing Callie had never understood. If a person wanted a certain style and design, it needed to be planned into the house’s architectural style right from the start. “I’m determined to make this house the pinnacle of my work,” she said. “I think we can work together, Nick, but you’ve got to bend and listen to me. Don’t make any hard and fast decisions on the architectural style until I have a chance to talk more with Barbara and decide what I want.”

  He jerked the truck into gear. She could hear him muttering under his breath, but she couldn’t make out any words, though his anger was obvious. She was genuinely sorry for that, but at the same time she was filled with excitement over her big break.

  “If you get too out of line, they can find another architect,” Nick said through tight lips. “I told you—I work alone. I’m willing to listen to your ideas, but I make the final decision or I’m out of there.”

  Callie shook her head. “I can’t give up final say,” she said. “My design may stand or fall on some architectural details I need incorporated into the plan.”

  Nick’s knuckles were white where he gripped the steering wheel. “This is my project, Callie. You were merely a guest tonight. Don’t abuse that.”

  Guilt shuddered through Callie. He was right. “Okay, let’s just table who is in charge and call it a joint effort. If we run into a disagreement, we can hash it out then. Let’s not borrow trouble. There may be no areas of disagreement we can’t live with.”

  Nick nodded grudgingly. “Deal.”

  Chapter 3

  Nick bent over his drawing table and rubbed his blurry eyes. He’d been up most of the night going over his plan for the Miller home. Barbara had said she wanted something different, so he’d designed a nearly circular home with wide, curving windows to take advantage of the desert mountain views. The exterior would be concrete instead of the pale stucco usually seen in Arizona, and the roof would be concrete tile as well. It would blend into the mountainside lot as part of the landscape.

  If Callie wanted him to change anything, he didn’t know what he would do. Part of him wanted to chuck the project and move on to something else, but this plan was the culmination of a lifetime of work and experience. He’d worked hard and long on this design. He sighed and pressed his fingers against his throbbing eyes.

  Taking her along last night had been a mistake. But who would have thought she would worm her way into Barbara’s good graces and try to ruin his project? And the worst thing was that he had been so drawn to her. Well, that was over. It was just more proof that most women were greedy and grasping. Michelle had left him for someone with more money. Callie was more of the same type of woman. It was a shame when she’d been so likeable and honest at first.

  The phone rang, and he stared at it in distaste. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair then reached over and grabbed it. “Nick Darling.”

  “I hope I’m not calling too early.” Callie’s crisp, businesslike voice carried clearly through the receiver. “I’ve been up all night working on ideas for the Miller home.”

  She didn’t sound as if she’d been up all night. She sounded bright, alert, and way too enthusiastic.

  “I’m up. I was working all night too. I had a catnap from about five to six but got back up and hit it again. The design is done.” Maybe she would take a hint that he didn’t want her messing with a completed project.

  “We’ll see. I have very good ideas that might call for some changes,” she said. “Of course I’ll need to talk with Barbara more and get to know her likes and dislikes before I call it finished. When may I come and see your plans?”

  Nick pressed his lips together. She was going to be a pest, and he couldn’t do much about it. “Obviously I’m at the office. Come on over if you like.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  The phone clicked in his ear, and he hung it up slowly. Maybe her plans would fit with his as seamlessly as a plug into a light socket. He could only hope and pray that was the case.

  He pushed the spread-out papers away and went to the coffeepot. He would need all the caffeine he could get to make it through the day. His eyes burned, and the thought of bed was inviting. The last thing he needed this morning was a run-in with Callie.

  By the time the coffee aroma filled his office, he heard a light tap on the office door. He tucked his shirt back into the waistband of his jeans and went to the door. When the door swung open, he wanted to shut it again.

  Callie looked as fresh and alert as if she’d slept twelve hours last night. Her brown eyes were alight with enthusiasm. She’d changed into crisp cotton slacks with a gold top that matched the golden glints in her eyes. Her freshness made Nick feel like used coffee grounds.

  “Want some java?” he asked sourly, stepping aside to allow her to enter.

  “I brought my own,” she said, holding up an iced mocha. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, or I would have brought you one.”

  “I like the homegrown, pure caffeine variety of regular coffee,” he said. He went to the coffeepot and poured himself a mug of black coffee.

  “These the Miller plans?” she asked, heading toward the drawing board.

  “Yep.” Nick couldn’t help the note of pride in his voice.

  He watched Callie as she studied the drawings. Her facial expression betrayed none of her feelings, though she pursed her lips and nodded several times. His heart hammered against his ribs, though he didn’t know why her opinion should matter so much to him.

  “These are good, really good,” she said finally. “I can see why the Millers hired you. But I was hoping for something warmer. This feels cold with the ultra modern design. I had my heart set on a Sante Fe design with peeled logs as supports inside and at the porches.”

  “Barbara wanted something different,” he reminded her. He could feel his temper teetering on the edge of explosion. “Santa Fe style is not uncommon out here.”

  “What I have in mind will be different,” she said. “The Millers do a lot of entertaining, so I was thinking of a huge great room—and I do mean huge. The kitchen would be state-of-the-art and part of the room. Granite counters, cabinet fronts on the appliances, a brick hood over the stove for warmth and accent. The great room would have built-ins, but instead of being stuccoed they would be in wood tones that match the kitchen cabinets.”

  “Maybe I coul
d merge some rooms in this house and give you a great room,” he said grudgingly. He had to admit her idea sounded appealing. He cast a longing look over his drawings. This would be so dramatic. “And Barbara struck me as the kind who wants this as a showplace and would need formal areas. It’s hard to have formal areas with just a great room.”

  “Barbara has a lost-soul quality about her—can’t you sense it? She needs a real home, a haven, and doesn’t even realize it.” Callie took a sip of her mocha. “And just giving me a great room wouldn’t give me the peeled logs and the feel I’m looking for,” she said.

  He let out a huff. “I told you it was a mistake to get involved now. Why don’t you wait until the house is built and see what ideas you can come up with then? I know you’re a good designer. You could make this house sparkle.”

  “I know Barbara would love my ideas,” Callie said. Her gaze was unflinching. “Can’t you come up with a different plan that would incorporate my ideas?”

  “I’ve spent three months on this plan, and you’re asking me to scrap the whole thing. I’m not going to do it. If I scrap it now, they can find another architect. And you won’t find another architect any more willing to kowtow to the interior designer than I am!”

  They glared at one another; then Callie dropped her eyes. “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “Is there a compromise? May I have a copy of your drawings? I’ll leave my ideas here with you, and I’ll look yours over. There has to be a way to work together.”

  If there was, Nick didn’t see it. They were poles apart on the vision for the structure itself. “Why don’t we talk to the Millers?” he suggested.

  Callie bit her lip, and her gaze faltered. “Can’t we work it out between us?”

  “What’s wrong? You afraid to let your design stand or fall on its own merits?” he asked.

  “I’m only concerned about our witness,” she said. “In case you didn’t notice, the Millers may have gone to church in New York, but it’s pretty plain they aren’t Christians. If we bicker and fight like the rest of the business world, what will that say to them?”

  A shaft of guilt skewered Nick. Maybe Callie wasn’t just a hard-nosed businesswoman. At least she had a heart for what was right. And she was right about Barbara’s needy attitude.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. He sat heavily in the leather chair behind his desk. “Let’s get to know one another better and find out what our respective visions are for a home,” he said.

  Callie hesitated then nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right.” She sat in the chair in front of his desk. “What do you want to know?”

  “Not like this.” He waved his hand around the office. “This is too intimidating of a setting. Let’s get out of here and do something fun. Hey, how about touring some model homes?”

  Callie made a face. “I do that all the time. I don’t like other designers’ ideas to clutter my own when I’m working on a new project.”

  “Well, what do you want to do then?”

  She shrugged. “If we’re going to get to know one another, we should do something normal and everyday. What’s your favorite thing to do?”

  “You’ll be sorry you asked,” he said. Wouldn’t she feel out of place at a shoot? He hid a grin. But maybe if she was out of her element, she wouldn’t be so set on her own way. He had a desire to rattle her a bit.

  “I’m game for anything,” she said.

  She thought she was game. He hadn’t planned on going today, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. “You’ll need to change. You own any jeans?”

  “Of course,” she said loftily. “I live in Arizona, don’t I?”

  “Change into a comfortable pair, and I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

  “But where are we going?” She followed him to the door.

  “You’ll find out. Bring a hat if you have one, too.” Amusement bubbled inside him. He couldn’t wait to see how she reacted to the day.

  She paused at the door. “You realize it will be my turn to choose what we do next Saturday?”

  “I can handle anything you throw my way,” he told her.

  “That’s what you think.” And with an impudent grin she shut the door behind her.

  As Nick went to shower and change his clothes, he wondered what he’d let himself in for.

  §

  Nick was going to be surprised. Callie grinned at her reflection in the full-size mirror. Her favorite jeans were almost white with washing. She wore a cowboy-style shirt with fringe Gram had bought her for Christmas last year in an attempt to get her to “lighten up.” She’d pulled her curls into a ponytail and crammed it all into a misshapen cowboy hat she’d had since tenth grade. Her cowboy boots were battered and worn but oh so comfortable.

  She hadn’t dressed like this in ages. It felt good to be out of her polished and put-together persona. Maybe Nick had the right idea. It would be nice to be who she was and not be so concerned with selling her image. But old habits were hard to change.

  She figured they were going horseback riding. That seemed in keeping with Nick’s cowboy image. Callie hadn’t been on a horse in years, but it was like riding a bicycle—you never forget how. At least she hoped that was the case.

  The phone rang when she got to the living room. She grabbed it as she sank onto the sofa. “Hi, Gram.”

  “Hello, yourself, but it’s not Gram.” Her cousin Mattie’s cheery voice came over the receiver.

  “Sorry. I figured Gram was calling to see how the date she set up for me went last night.”

  Mattie groaned. “You didn’t go along with her matchmaking! We had a pact to refuse any more meddling. I suppose I’m in for it next.” Her voice sounded gloomy.

  “I had no choice. It was a done deal by the time she called me.”

  “So how did it go? Did he pick his teeth and belch when he was finished with dinner?”

  Callie smiled. “Actually he was very nice. No, nice is too tame a word. Interesting. He’s an architect. We had dinner with his clients, and I got a terrific offer to decorate the house out of it. I’m pretty excited about the whole thing. The only fly in the ointment is that Nick is being stubborn about changing his house plans to match my decor design. And you know—a home without a woman’s touch is, well, just cold.”

  Mattie burst into laughter. “Callie, only you would ask someone to do that! It’s supposed to be the other way around. You’re supposed to come up with a design that’s in keeping with the architectural style. I can imagine his reaction. Did he throw you out on your ear?”

  “No, we’re going to try to come up with a compromise.”

  “A man who compromises. Will wonders never cease? Better grab him while you can, Girlfriend. Better you than me, though. I’d better make sure my schedule is full. Gram will be calling any time now with some new specimen of manhood she’s dragged out of the bushes for me.”

  “Maybe when she sees she’s failed with me and Nick, she’ll drop her meddling ways,” Callie said. She knew better, though.

  “Don’t count on it. Gram lives to meddle.” Mattie’s voice was indulgent in spite of her words. “When are you seeing this guy again?”

  “Any minute. He suggested we should spend some time together to get an idea for the other’s vision.” Callie rose and walked to the window. No sign of Nick yet. She walked back to the couch.

  “Sounds promising. Maybe Gram is going to score another winner with you and this Nick.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Callie said. She heard a car door and whirled to the window again. “He’s here. I gotta run. Say a prayer for me.”

  “Oh, I will. You need all the help you can get. Talk to you soon.” Mattie hung up, and Callie flung the portable phone onto the couch.

  The doorbell rang, and she took a deep breath. She had to appear calm though her nerves were strung tighter than a piano wire. She forced herself to walk sedately to the door and open it.

  Nick looked even better than she remembered. He was in a stylish cowbo
y outfit. Snakeskin boots matched the hatband on his Stetson and the belt around his waist. He wore a voluminous red shirt that looked old-fashioned, and Callie couldn’t put her finger on why. Then she realized the styling was like in old cowboy movies.

  “You look—nice,” she said lamely.

  His firm lips turned up. “You clean up pretty nice yourself,” he said. “You look comfortable instead of starchy.”

  “Starchy?” Callie didn’t like the word. She wanted to look anything but starchy. “I’m supposed to look competent.” She peered past him. “Aha, I was right,” she said when she spied his horse trailer. “We’re going riding.” Then her satisfied smile faltered. One horse nickered to her from the trailer. Surely he didn’t intend her to ride behind him?

  Nick smiled mysteriously. “Not exactly.”

  She frowned. “There’s only one horse.” She pulled the door shut behind her and walked to the trailer. “Hi, there, Sweetie,” she crooned. “He’s beautiful. You had him long?”

  “He’s about six. I’ve had him since he was a colt. His name is Ranger.”

  Callie turned to face him. “Okay, spill it. What are we doing today? You have the horse and the get-up. I’m in jeans. We’re going riding—admit it.”

  Nick took her arm and guided her to the truck cab. “All in good time, Callie. I bet you’ve never seen anything like you’re going to see today.”

  Callie climbed into the cab. She propped her booted feet on the dash. It felt good to leave behind the designer and let her real personality come out. It had been hidden too long.

  She turned a smile on Nick as he climbed in beside her. “How long do I have to wait? Did I ever mention how much I hate being kept in the dark?”

  “You have the nicest smile,” he said abruptly. “It’s no wonder Barbara threw the whole project in your lap.”

  Callie blinked. She knew her smile had turned idiotic, but the compliment pleased her immensely. “Thank you,” she said.

  The truck pulled slowly away from the curb as Nick watched the trailer to make sure it was tracking properly. Callie felt more content than she had in a long time. There was something special about Nick. They rode in companionable silence a few minutes; then Nick glanced at her.