Page 21 of Targeted at Christmas

“My sentiments precisely,” Lexi told her thoughtfully. She considered mentioning her involvement with Cooper, but didn’t want to jinx it. Especially since he had yet to accept the dinner invitation that she was planning to offer him. But later, if things went well, she could imagine them getting together with Pamela and whomever she was dating at the time for drinks.

WHEN HE GOT the call from Lexi inviting him over to her place for dinner, Cooper readily accepted. Why wouldn’t he want to share a nice meal with a beautiful woman? Particularly one who had captured his attention from the start.

He arrived at the Spanish residence on East Camelback Road right on time at six o’clock. It wasn’t his style to be fashionably late like some preferred. On the contrary, if he’d had his way, he might have come a bit earlier, in case Lexi needed his assistance with anything in the meal preparation and such.

After parking in the driveway and exiting his car, Cooper’s gaze shifted to the Pueblo Revival home next door. He saw Eleanor Palakiko, his widow support group friend, sitting in a chair by the window. She looked his way and waved, a big smile on her face, as though already privy to his spending time with Lexi. He waved back, grinning, and thought smartly, I owe you, Eleanor, for allowing Lexi to take your place at the meeting—and giving us a chance to get to know each other better—leading to tonight’s dinner date.

Cooper hoped that the three of them might get together sometime—either at the support group gathering or elsewhere—and talk about their shared tragedies and triumphs in learning how to carry on.

He turned his attention to Lexi’s architecturally charming house—adorned with holiday decorations—imagining the interior would be just as remarkable. Stepping onto the porch, the door, which had an artificial Christmas wreath, opened just as Cooper was about to ring the bell. He grinned as Lexi stood there.

“Hi.” She flashed her straight white teeth. “You made it.”

“Hey,” Cooper told her, grinning back, while giving her the once-over in a cream-colored cotton shirtdress and brown slingback clogs. Her long hair was loose. “You look nice,” he had to say in pure sincerity.

“Thank you.” Lexi blushed. “So do you.”

“Thanks.” Cooper downplayed the compliment, even if he had gone out of his way to make a halfway decent impression on her by wearing a tan wool jacket over a gray polo shirt, charcoal wool gabardine pants, and black leather oxford shoes. He lifted up a bottle. “I brought wine—red, if that’s all right?”

“It’s perfect—I love red wine,” she told him, taking the bottle from him.

They went inside, and Cooper needed only one glance to see what a successful architect’s home was made of. “Impressive,” he said in awe.

“Glad you think so.” A modest smile played on Lexi’s face. “I’ll be happy to show you around.”

“I’d like that.” He gazed at her decorated Christmas tree and felt compelled to say, “Nice tree.”

“Thanks,” she said, gazing at it. “I love this time of year.”

I wish I could be as enthusiastic in decorating my house, now that I’m there all alone these days, Cooper told himself sadly. He responded evenly, “Same here.”

They watched as a Yorkshire terrier seemed to come out of nowhere and ran across the engineered hardwood flooring toward Cooper. “This is Pepper,” she said.

“Hey there, Pepper.” Cooper gazed at the small dog who was sizing him up as well. After sniffing his pants leg to familiarize himself with Cooper, Pepper seemed satisfied for now and scurried off.

Lexi giggled. “I think he likes you.”

“Good to know.” Cooper grinned. “I like your dog, too.”

“Well, I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starved, actually,” he responded, his nostrils taking in the food’s scent. “Smells great.”

“Thanks.” She eyed him. “Do you like Puerto Rican food?”

“Absolutely,” Cooper replied in haste, while being up for pretty much anything.

“That’s good,” she said, smiling. “Okay, the meal’s ready to serve. Make yourself at home while I lay everything out.”

Cooper regarded her. “I can help…”

Lexi nodded. “You can pour the wine you brought—follow me.”

Cooper trailed her through the arched opening into the gourmet kitchen and was told which of the glass-door cabinets the wine goblets were in. He took out two and, after opening the wine, half filled the glasses. Wanting to do more, he carried the plates and silverware to the dining room’s rectangular umber trestle dining table.

Soon they were sitting in exposed wood armchairs and eating pollo guisado: chicken stew, tostones: fried plantains, arroz con gandules: rice and pigeon peas, and pan sobao: a soft, chewy bread.

Lexi regarded Cooper and asked tentatively, “So, what do you think?”