hy, yes. Alexis Hayes. How did you know?”
She sighed, uncertain herself how she’d put those particular dots together so quickly. “Her mother called me this morning to handle the birthday party arrangements. She said she’d been given my name by a friend. That would be you, wouldn’t it?”
“It would. Her husband, my friend and classmate, Connor, mentioned that Mia was really snowed under with her grad-school work, teaching duties and their daughter’s activities. He can’t help her much right now because he’s on a difficult rotation. When he said they were trying to find time to arrange a birthday party for Alexis, I suggested they contact you. Mia liked the idea of having someone else do all the work and planning for once.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about acquiring the job through James. It was her nature as the often patronizingly-indulged youngest sibling to immediately resist whenever it seemed that someone was offering her a handout, as if she were some charity case who needed assistance handling her own affairs. Her prickly independence, as Philip had referred to it, had been a definite sore spot between them.
But then she told herself she should be happy for any booking, no matter how it had come about, and chided herself for being unreasonable. Hadn’t she been grateful earlier for the word-of-mouth business? Before she’d learned from whose mouth the advice had issued? “Thank you. I appreciate the referral. I’ll do a good job for your friend.”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t have recommended you if I’d thought otherwise.”
There it was again. That faint, somewhat elusive tilt of his lips that made her heart flutter foolishly and her own mouth tingle as if in wistful anticipation.
Turning brusquely toward the shelves of dolls and accessories, she spoke in a deliberately businesslike manner. “These things are probably too young for a nine-year-old. How well do you know Alexis?”
“I’ve known her since she was six, but that doesn’t mean I know what sort of things she likes,” he admitted. “She’s a cute kid. Smart. Polite. Active. That’s about the sum of what I can tell you.”
“Her mother said she likes dance and soccer and the color purple.”
“Sounds like her. You get any ideas for gifts out of that?”
“She also likes handcrafts.” She led him to another aisle filled with handcraft kits. “These are designed for children her age.”
James studied rows of kits for making stuffed toys and jewelry and sun catchers and hair accessories. Nothing seemed to interest him much. “I don’t know.”
“Okay, let’s look at this section,” she said, stepping around him. Their arms brushed as she did so and she was annoyed that her pulse rate stuttered in response to the contact. Focusing fiercely on the job at hand, she pointed out several rows of art supplies. “Does she like to draw or paint?”
“Actually, I have seen several pictures she drew displayed on the fridge when I’ve studied at their house,” he replied thoughtfully. “She’s pretty good, for a kid.”
“Maybe a box of pastels,” she suggested, picking up a small but nice set. He hadn’t said what he wanted to spend, but she figured that was a safe guess.
James examined the pastels she handed him, but his attention was quickly drawn to a larger art-supplies set packaged in a wooden box with brass hinges on each side. The box opened from the center to reveal a rainbow selection of colored pencils, pastels, watercolors and tubes of oil paints, graphite drawing pencils, erasers, sharpeners and other supplies.
Recommended for ages eight and up, the set was rather pricey—more than Shannon would be able to spend on her nieces and nephews for birthday gifts. She noted that James didn’t even check the price.
“This looks nice. Maybe she’d like this.”
“Any kid who likes to draw and paint would love that set. Heck, I’d like it, myself,” she added with a grin.
She was being quite candid. She had loved drawing and painting since her own childhood, though she considered herself only marginally talented. Artistic enough to come in handy for her children’s parties, anyway. Unfortunately, this lovely set was out of her miscellaneous-expense budget.
“Okay, I’ll get this,” James announced in sudden decision. “If she doesn’t care for it, I assume she can exchange it for something else?”
“Of course she can. But I bet she’ll keep it.”
She remembered her impression that James came from a privileged background. He certainly didn’t fit the image of a financially struggling medical student. But she didn’t get the feeling he was flashing his money, either. He seemed to simply want to buy a gift his little friend would enjoy.
She wondered if he could possibly identify with the very tight budget she lived on while she tried to get her struggling business off the ground. Could someone who’d never had to count pennies understand what it was like to worry about paying next month’s rent?
“Where do I pay for this?” he asked, hefting the sizable box.
“At the front register on your way out.”
“Okay, thanks.” He gave her another small smile. “You’ve been very accommodating.”
She swallowed, forcefully holding her own smile in place. “I’m glad I could help. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
He seemed to have been waiting for that very question. He replied without hesitation. “Yes. You can have dinner with me some night soon.”