A Date for Daisy

Daisy Bloom is determined to turn her 100-year-old house into a bed and breakfast. The only problem? She knows nothing about renovations.

Enter Lance Matthews, construction guru and business owner. He is determined to tackle this project with his usual methodical, organized approach. His only problem? The beautiful and infuriating homeowner -- deeply involved with the project and completely averse to lists, schedules, or any form of organization.

When sparks fly between these wildly different personalities, will they find common ground? Or does God have other plans for each of them?

Virginia Jones5.0 out of 5 stars A light hearted and entertaining story.

Reviewed in the United States on January 21, 2023

A perfect fit after reading stories filled with suspense and mystery. I loved the wit and humor and the characters were so lovable. A delightful book.

Daisy ran her hand over the polished wooden
banister as she walked up the stairs. It had been foolish to clean it up before
finishing other projects, but reviving the intricate woodwork had been
irresistible. Her contractor, Greg, even complimented the job she’d done. As
much as Daisy wanted to handle everything herself, her shotgun approach to
renovation projects was admittedly not ideal.

This morning, Daisy moved her attention to the
bedrooms upstairs. Once the baseboards were gone, they could sand the hardwood
floors and refinish them. She tugged gently on the baseboards, trying to
preserve the original woodwork. The board broke free, and Daisy set it aside.

Greg planned to get here later today and Daisy
checked her watch while she grabbed a protein bar, her usual lunch. Since she
hired Greg, they’d knocked down walls and stripped the flooring downstairs. The
progress was still slow, but Daisy kept costs low and tried to learn as much as
she could. The retired contractor was patient and good-natured, happy to dig
into the project with her and fill a few days a week.

The room was dim, despite the window, and Daisy
studied the ceiling.  An unfortunate
reality of the old house was the lack of overhead lights. She’d have to run
wiring for new lights in the attic. Where was Greg? She checked her watched
again, then heard buzzing from across the room. Her phone flashed from its
resting place in the corner and she crawled over to it.

“Hey, Greg.”

“Miss Bloom, good morning.” Greg always called
her Miss Bloom, no matter how many times she invited him to call her Daisy.

Daisy laughed, “It’s not morning anymore. It’s
nearly one-thirty. Are you still coming today? I’ve got some ideas for the
bedrooms upstairs I want to run past you.”

“Well, that’s actually why I’m calling. You know
I’ve been having some trouble with my knees?” His groans and slow movement were
evidence that he’d been struggling with the constant up and down of the
renovation. Daisy’s heart sank when Greg continued, “I went to the doctor this
morning and they told me the cartilage is almost completely gone. They are
recommending a replacement.”

“Like a knee replacement?” Even though she knew
the answer, Daisy needed to hear him say it.

“Yeah.” Greg sighed before continuing. “They
scheduled it for next week but told me not to aggravate it further. Which means
no projects for me—at least not for a while.”

Daisy laid herself on the old wood floor,
staring at the ceiling. Selfishly, disappointment filled her as the implications for her bed-and-breakfast seeped into her thoughts. Greg had
become a friend, and it would kill him to back out of the project. “Oh, man.
I’m sorry, Greg.” Injecting cheer into her voice, she continued, “I really hope
it helps you get relief though!”

Greg replied warmly, “Thank you, Miss Bloom. I
feel just awful that I won’t help you finish.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” she reassured him.
“Besides, you’ve taught me so much, I’m sure I can move forward on my own.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” he joked.

From anyone else, the barb might have stung, but
Greg had never made her feel less than capable, despite her unconventional
methods. Unlike the half-dozen other contractors she’d considered before hiring
him.

“Ha ha,” she said dryly. “I’ll be fine. But I
bet by the time you are all healed up, I’m still not done.”

“They said I would be up and back to normal
after six weeks, but that I probably shouldn’t do ladder work or flooring for
about four months.”

“Four months?” Disappointment rang in her own voice. They had been making such solid progress, Daisy planned to take
reservations for Valentine’s Day. Good thing she hadn’t told Lavender to
promote it. She would already be booked—Lavender was savvy with all the
marketing and promotional side of things.

“I’ll see what I can do. Maybe my son—” 

Daisy cut him off, “You just worry about getting
better. I’ll get Hawthorne to help, and we’ll figure things out. Seriously,”
she said, “don’t worry about me. Tell me where and when so I can come see you.
We’ll watch This Project House,” she offered, referring to the long-running
renovation show on public television. She and Greg had gotten side-tracked more
than once watching clips.

“Thanks, Daisy. I really am sorry about this. I
never thought it would be that bad, but the doctors were shocked I could still
walk, let alone kneel.”

They hung up and Daisy remained on the floor,
the imperfections in the plaster ceiling blurring before her eyes with unshed
tears.

It had taken her four months to find Greg. Four
months of interviewing condescending and arrogant contractors who were
perfectly willing to take on the project, as long as she simply sat back and
looked pretty. It had been infuriating, and her pulse kicked into gear at the
memory of their smug faces.

Hawthorne would help, but he had other jobs
around the farm. Before she’d hired Greg, they had successfully tackled the
exterior of the house. While Hawthorne was occupied elsewhere, she’d demolished
the kitchen, leaving it barely functional for the two of them. That was six
months ago. Unfortunately, she and Greg hadn’t gotten around to the kitchen
yet.

Daisy might not know how to do everything that
needed done, but she could learn. That hadn’t changed just because Greg
wouldn’t be there to teach her. Daisy opened the browser on her phone and
pulled up a tutorial on installing light fixtures. She would tackle the next project herself, and since she was staring up at the ceiling, where better to
start than by adding lights to the bedrooms?