Seth walked into his workshop; the sound of his heavy boots echoed through the room as they contacted the concrete floors. It was six p.m. and it had already gotten dark outside. He flipped on a few lights and immediately felt a sense of comfort at the familiarity of his workspace. All around him were shelves stacked with tools, wood pieces, and projects he had yet to finish. He breathed in the fresh-cut lumber smell.
He had brought a few pieces of wood inside earlier in anticipation of his late-night woodworking session, and now they lay scattered around his workspace like an offering to the inspiration gods—whatever would inspire him while he crafted his furniture.
He unwrapped the foil-covered chocolate reindeer halfway and took a bite, letting the flavor linger on his tongue as it brought back fond memories of his hilarious encounter with that spunky redhead. With a contented smile, he took a sip from his thermos. He was almost done with the table for his mother’s gala. He could then move on to the next custom job.
His phone vibrated on the workbench beside him, making the wood shavings jump from the hand planer. He had been about to fit the last walnut board of the handmade foyer table, a design he had dreamt up and was extremely pleased with. He flipped over his phone to see who was calling and took a deep breath before answering. “Hi Mom.”
“Honey, I’m glad I caught you. Did you get the woodburning set I sent over?” She paused before continuing, “The man at the woodworking store said it’s the best on the market.”
Seth could hear the worry in his mother’s voice and chastised himself for not calling as soon as it was delivered. “I did. Thank you.”
“You’ll sign the table, won’t you?”
“Yes. Of course.”
“Your grandfather would be so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” His mom had always been his biggest supporter. When he had decided to leave his father’s prestigious architectural firm and pursue his love of building furniture, his father had made it clear he didn’t approve of the choice. But Seth’s mother had stood behind his decision, always his cheerleader.
“Listen. That’s not the only reason I called. Jessica is available if you need a date to the fundraiser.”
And there it was. The purpose for her call. “I am not taking Jessica to the fundraiser. And last time I checked, it’s not a requirement to show up with someone on my arm.”
His mother had been relentlessly trying to fix him up with numerous women she thought appropriate, ever since she had gotten a second chance at happiness with her childhood sweetheart. He was glad his mom found happiness after what his father had put her through, but it didn’t mean he wanted to be set up on blind dates.
“So, I can’t put you down for a plus-one?” she asked.
“Since my relationship status hasn’t changed in the last week, no. Mom, I’ve got to go. I’ve got to get this table finished so you’ll have it to auction off at the gala.”
“Seth Theodore Woods,” she said with determination, her voice lowering.
Seth rolled his eyes.
“You need to leave that workshop occasionally and find yourself a nice woman. Let me know the minute you find her, and I’ll add her to the list.”
Like he’d have time to find a woman before the fundraiser. However, his mom was right; he needed to meet up with a few friends and go out for beers occasionally, like he used to when he lived in the city. Since he’d moved to the country, his social life had been nonexistent.
“Yes ma’am.” Seth shook his head and hung up the phone. Actually, he thought, he had met someone, the first woman who had piqued his interest in a while. Her petite frame and bright blue eyes, her wavy hair falling out of her ponytail. She radiated intelligence and feistiness. Her determined expression when she’d stood up to him for snatching the last chocolate reindeer made his heart race. The only problem was, he had no idea what her name was, and he hadn’t made the best impression by taking the candy she was clearly after. Why hadn’t he relinquished the reindeer? It wasn’t like him to be so spiteful. It’s not like she reminded him of Kimberly, his ex-girlfriend. Totally opposite, in fact. A spunky little elf.