“So, Randy, how long have you been installing floors?” I asked as I walked into the next dance room.
He chuckled. “Since as long as I can remember. My father started the business and I guess he figured his sons would follow in his footsteps.”
I lifted a brow. “And did they? I mean, clearly you have.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “I worked as an engineer at NASA, my younger brother took over the family business.”
“You’re just filling in?” My curiosity was piqued.
“No, I’m ready to settle my life down, start a family, work less. NASA was amazing, but I worked seventy hours a week and got tired of the grind.”
“Wow, I can see how that would get old. Are you married?”
His smile grew wider, if possible. “Not even close. Finding a woman my age who isn’t already married or who isn’t career driven has proven to be a problem.”
I chuckled. “I totally understand. I’m at the same place you are. Ready to have a family and settle into a routine.”
A man appeared at the door and cleared his throat to get our attention. “Randy? Are we ready to start bringing in the materials?”
“Yeah, let’s get moving so we stay on schedule.”
The next hour or so was filled with guys bringing in wood and tools. I stood in the very last room, one of the ballrooms, and watched as they built the frame.
Randy was right in there with his crew, working alongside them. I admired men like him and Jonathon who worked with their employees. My father had always been like that. Never standing back to order people around, always in the thick of things.
My cell phone started ringing. I pulled it out of my back pocket.
“Hey, Momma, what’s up?”
“Hello, sweetie. I wanted to make sure you were coming for dinner tonight.”
“Yep, I’ll be there.”
“And will you be bringing Jonathon?”
My stomach fluttered at the mention of his name. “Do you promise not to scare him away?”
She laughed. “Of course!”
“Then, he’ll be there with me this evening for dinner. And, Momma, please don’t start pryin’ into his business.”
“What are you talking about, Waylynn Parker? I’ve known Jonathon Turner since the boy was in diapers. I already know all of his business. Heck, I’ve seen all of his business.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh Lord, please don’t remind him of that tonight. I forgot what town I was living in and how much of a busybody my mother can be.”
“Mind your tongue, young lady. Bring me some of Lilly’s homemade bread, will you? I’ve made a lasagna that will go perfectly with it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Better make it two loaves. Your brothers like it as well.”
Chuckling, I replied, “I’ll buy three…just in case.”
“Perfect. Seven sharp! Not a minute later.”
“Wait! Is Aunt Vi gonna be there?”
“Yes, of course, it’s family dinner night.”
Perfect. I needed to talk to my aunt in private. I was positive she would know what it was like to date a younger man and would be able to give me advice. I’d already had one person make a comment to me at Lilly’s when I ran by earlier for breakfast.
“Great. I’ll see ya tonight,” I said.
“Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you back.”
Hitting End, I glanced up to see Randy watching me.
“You heading out?” he asked.
“I’ve got a few things to take care of. I’m sure Jonathon will be stopping by in a bit to check up on things.”
He looked down at the tool in his hand and then back up at me. “This may be forward, but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner sometime.”
“Dinner?” I asked, completely taken aback.
“I know I shouldn’t be asking, but it sounds like we have a lot in common.”
Giving him a friendly grin, I replied, “Thank you for the invitation, but I’m actually seeing someone. Jonathon, to be exact.”
His eyes widened. “Really?” Then he laughed. “Isn’t he a little young for you?”
I swallowed hard. “Last time I checked he was out of college and a grown man who owned his own company. Do you have a problem with a woman dating a man a few years younger?”
“A few years? Don’t get me wrong, Waylynn, you would pass for twenty-five, but I’m pretty sure you’re around my age.”
Folding my arms across my chest, I asked, “And how old are you, Mr. Leman?”
“Thirty-four.”
“If you want to continue putting in the wood floors of this dance studio, I highly suggest you take a few steps back and think about your choice of words the next time you speak to me, or any other woman, for that matter. This isn’t 1950, Mr. Leman, and a six-year difference isn’t mind-blowing.”
He held up his hands. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”
“Overstepped? You took a fucking leap off the building.”
“What’s going on?”
Jonathon’s voice caused my rapid breath to settle a bit.
“Mr. Leman here thinks I’m too old to be dating you…darling.”