I learned a lesson that day that I’ve carried with me for years. On a day full of unimaginable loss and confusion, you can smile. You can listen to a silly story and you can giggle. That day wasn’t the last tragedy I’ve encountered in my life, but it has shaped how I face them. Looking at how she handled it, holding back whatever pain she was feeling in order to keep us smiling, I realize what a gift that was to my sisters and me. My family has a history of facing hardships with humor, and Ruthie is my first memory of that. We were so lucky she was there, and I found myself saying: I hope to be like her someday.
Ruthie has inspired me throughout my life, even when I was sure she didn’t realize it. Not many people left the small town we grew up in. But she did. And growing up I heard the stories of her adventures and realized I wanted the same for myself. She may not have felt very inspiring as she hit the bumps in her own road, but I was watching and wanting something more for myself. There I was again, saying: I hope to be like her someday.
When I got older I, too, moved away. I took a job far from home and met my husband. Three years ago I became a mother and found myself wondering what my future was going to hold. It’s hard to remember your worth when you spend your days wiping noses and teaching manners. I wanted to have as much time with my son as I could, and once again I looked to Ruthie for inspiration. She, too, had a toddler and was blazing a path for herself, writing books people loved and still finding time to be a wife and mother. Could I do something I love and still put my family first? Yes. And there I was again saying: I hope to be like her someday.
When I started this journey, wanting to write something worth reading, Ruthie was there for me. At three years old, she had set me on my parents’ bed and told me it was all right to laugh. At thirty, she’s sitting me down telling me it’s okay to put yourself out there. You’re good at this, you’re worth it, and you can do it. On the days I wanted to quit, she kicked me in the ass. When I questioned my abilities, she reminded me why I was doing this.
I watch her continually pay forward all the success she’s had. She surrounds herself with people who spread joy like the common cold, just sneezing happiness all over each other. I started this journey of writing wanting to be like her, hoping to be a successful author. I realize now what I want to emulate is her generous, kindhearted, hysterically funny spirit.
I hope to be like her someday.
Chapter One
Nolan tapped his pen repetitively on the text book and stared at the same line he’d been reading for the last twenty minutes. His jet-fuel-like coffee had turned to a cold thick sludge. The café was busy with impatient and distracted patrons hustling to the front of the line and barking out their orders. Clicking the volume up on his headphones, he tried to drown out the chatter.
The halfhearted attempt of the café employees to decorate the dim, overcrowded space fell flat. Old tangled tinsel was taped to the ceiling. Fake sprayed-on frosty snow rimmed each window. If Nolan hadn’t spent the holiday alone in a strange place, maybe he could find the magic in the twinkling lights on the fake tree.
The only positive prospect was his sister Libby’s trip to visit him for New Year’s Day. It had been too long since he’d seen her, and with each passing week the chip on his shoulder got heavier to carry. The mature part of him mustered some happiness for Libby’s hotshot, oil-mogul billionaire who’d married her in a quiet ceremony. If anyone deserved it Libby did, having worked every waking minute of her adult life to get Nolan to college and keep them both afloat.
The rest of him was fueled solely by selfishness. Their childhood home was now empty. Everything he’d once depended on to feel connected to his torn-apart family was now even further shredded. Libby and James West were blissful newlyweds, and Nolan was losing the last little bit of family he had.
The music in his ears cut out as his phone began to vibrate. Libby’s smiling picture flashed across the screen, one of his favorite shots of her, dressed in overalls with a paintbrush in her hand as she stood on their old front porch. She was trying to make what was old new again. Trying to make what was cracked and ruined whole. That was what Libby had always been to Nolan. The fixer when so many things were broken.
“Hey Lib,” Nolan said, trying to sound upbeat. “You guys boarding soon?”
“Nope,” Libby said flatly. “All flights are completely grounded. Ice here and a big storm up your way.”
“What?” Nolan groaned, giving in completely to his frustrations. “We had plans, Lib. We haven’t seen each other in forever.”
“I’ve been inviting you down to tour West Oil for months. You keep telling me you’re too busy. Now you’re mad because I can’t personally de-ice the plane and the runway?”
“You know I don’t want to work at West Oil. Touring it is just your way to get me roped in. I’m going to school to be a marine biologist. The oil companies are basically my nemeses.”
“I’m sorry, Nolan,” Libby said, genuinely. “I miss you so much. I wanted to spend New Year’s Day with you like we used to. Chinese food and movie hopping at the theater.”
“Isn’t there anything your rich husband can do? He has a plane right?” Nolan could hear how whiny he sounded, but he didn’t care.
“It’s a private plane, not a magic one. It’s susceptible to all the same weather related problems as any other plane. There’s just no way we can make it all the way to Massachusetts right now.”
“What about your charity event in Vermont?” Nolan asked, wondering if his sister was taking that disappointment harder than the idea of not seeing him.
“That’s the other reason I’m calling,” Libby said in that coy way she always did when there was some bad news to be broken. “I need you to go in our place.”
“Me?” Nolan laughed. “You want me to go to some billionaire event?”
“It’s not just for billionaires,” Libby dismissed. “I’m sure there are a few struggling millionaires there too.” Her attempt at humor didn’t soften him at all. “It’s a great cause, and James is donating a huge sum of money. The giant size check is already there. We just need someone to represent our family and hand it over. Say some nice things about nice people and then enjoy the wonderful party. It’ll be good for you. I can hear how down you’ve been. It’s worrying me.”
“I’m not a West,” Nolan said grumpily. “I’m a Saint-Jane, just like you used to be. He’s not my family.”
“He’s my family,” Libby bit back, “and by extension he’s yours. I know you’re pissed at me. I can tell you don’t like how things have been going, but I’m asking you to do me this favor. When have I ever asked you for anything?”
He knew damn well Libby had provided him with all of his basic needs since their mother had moved to a facility for her early-onset Alzheimer’s She took care of them all and never complained. To say he’d have nothing without Libby would be an understatement. And she was right, calling in a favor was not something she’d done often. “Aren’t you supposed to be there by tonight? Logistically, I’m not sure I could pull it off.”
“Yes, and I already did the calculations. You’re about a three-hour drive away. I’ll give you my credit card to buy clothes, pack a quick bag, and hop in the car. You can time it right to get in between the coming storms and still have most of the day to enjoy the resort.”
“You assume I don’t have a suit I can wear?” Nolan asked, insult registering in his words. “I know I’m not like all your billionaire friends, but I have clothes.”
“Why are you being so snarky?” Libby asked with a huff. “You can’t wear that brown suit you wore to Principal Starlin’s funeral. You need a tux. Do you have formalwear in your rickety suitcase with the wobbling wheel? I don’t know why you won’t let me buy you a decent bag.”
“Fine,” he gave in, not wanting to push his sister any further. He was only able to participate in this internship because of her help. College was only accessible to him because James West had paid for it.
“The
re’s one more thing,” Libby said, a hint of apology in her voice. “You need more than a tux for this event.”
“Do I have to rent a Lamborghini and pretend to be some stuck-up rich guy? You know as well as I do, I won’t pull that off. People will know how poor we were.”
“You need a date,” Libby replied flatly, unimpressed by the consistency in his bad attitude.
“What?” he chuckled. “I’m up at this internship. I’ve only been here three weeks. I don’t know anyone. You expect me to find some stranger, tell her I’m going to a charity ski event with billionaires, and ask her to go with me in the next hour?”
A kind, soft-featured face appeared in front of him from the café door. Her blue cotton hat was pulled down low, and she was breaking free of her buttoned-up jacket. She stood there expectantly as though waiting for him to address her. As she slipped out of her coat, how could he not notice her with a body like that?
“Sold,” the stranger smiled, sliding into the seat across from him. “I love skiing.”
“Who’s that?” Libby asked and Nolan could hear her smile growing larger by the second. “You do have someone you can take, don’t you?”
“No,” Nolan argued, refocusing on the phone call, yanking one earbud out so he could hear the woman better. “It’s some stranger who just sat down across from me like a lunatic.” He wasn’t worried about insulting her, considering she’d intruded on his conversation.
“A lunatic who loves to ski,” the woman sang, leaning in toward the phone.
“So it’s settled,” Libby replied, the overhead speaker at the airport calling out more canceled flights and drowning out Nolan’s protest. “I love you, Nolan. I’ll text you the details. Drive safely.”
The line clicked off, leaving Nolan bemused at this exotic thin-framed woman sitting across from him. She pulled off her hat and placed it neatly in her lap. Her wrists were more bangle bracelets than skin. They jingled as they tapped against each other. Long black hair pulled away from her face and spun into braids woven together like a crown above her ears. Nolan saw a small flower henna tattoo peeking out above the low collar of her tight-fitting red blouse. It was nearly impossible to keep his eyes off that dainty spot where the flower tantalized, begging to be seen.
“When do we leave?” she asked, her eyes open wide with anticipation and excitement.
“We don’t,” Nolan said, narrowing his eyes appraisingly, trying to measure what level of crazy she registered on the nut-job scale. “I don’t even know you.”
“Oh gosh,” she said as though she’d forgotten the formalities. “You’re right. I’m sorry. How rude of me. My name is Holly.” She extended her hand for a shake, and he reluctantly obliged, convinced she wouldn’t drop her hand until he did. When her cool soft skin touched his, he could almost feel her energy buzzing. “So when do we leave?”
Nolan scanned her face again, waiting for her to break out in laughter, as though the hidden cameras associated with this prank would come out from behind the fake plants any second.
“You’re serious?” he asked, lost in that mischievous sparkle in her coal black eyes.
“Dead serious,” she said, her shimmering glossed lips rising up in a captivating smile. “It sounds like you don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t see women lining up to take my spot.”
“It’s a formal event,” he said, his phone chirping with more details from Libby. He flipped the screen for Holly to see the snapshot of the invitation. “Black tie, snooty people, probably nothing recognizably edible for food. Lots of kale and watercress things, whatever that is. Not to mention I’m a complete stranger. Aren’t you worried I could be a serial killer?”
Holly laughed heartily, covering her mouth with her hand, the bangle bracelets clanking together. “Sorry,” she apologized, her face glowing red. “You are harmless.”
“Really?” Nolan challenged, his brow rising at her. With a woman like Holly he could think of a million ways to get in trouble. A mischievous look was now in his eye, but she never flinched.
She went on with her argument. “If you were a serial killer I’d imagine this would be a pretty elaborate scam to get me in your car. You’d have to stage a phone call with someone. Assume I’d volunteer to be your date. Then have a fake invitation drafted up and sent over in a timely fashion. Selecting a victim should be based far more on opportunity, rather than orchestrating something this intricate. Plus, you’d be more personable. Serial killers are notoriously charming when luring people into their trap.”
“Hmm,” Nolan said thoughtfully, rubbing a hand against the stubble on his chin. “So technically in this scenario you’re the serial killer? You found an opportunity, and maybe I’m walking into your trap.”
Holly opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn’t seem to form a proper argument. Nodding her head, she gave him a look as though he’d won.
“I should be worried about you,” he teased, the blush in her cheeks exciting him.
“You’re right,” she agreed, leaning back in her chair and exposing more of the tiny flower tattoo. “By my own logic I am charming the hell out of you. But I’m still coming. If I turn out to be an axe murderer, you can say I told you so.”
“I’d be dead,” he challenged, tossing his hands up animatedly.
She huffed as though he were being completely exasperating. “Fine,” she conceded, rolling her eyes. “I promise to let you say ‘I told you so,’ BEFORE I kill you.”
“Fair enough,” he shrugged, convinced she would back out when it came time to actually go through with this. “You’re saying you are going to come with me, buy a formal dress, ride in the car for the next three hours, and then hang out at some stuffy event where I have to awkwardly present a giant check to a roomful of strangers? All this on New Year’s Eve.”
“I’m hearing a new dress, a ski vacation, and the opportunity to meet some billionaires. Is there a better way to spend New Year’s Eve?”
“With your boyfriend?” he baited, a wry smile lighting his face.
She nodded and pretended to think on it for a minute. “You could spend it with your boyfriend if you want,” Holly shrugged. “Can he find a tux in time?”
He fought the laugh but lost, giving in to her witty humor. Nolan closed his text books and slid them into his bag. Standing, he glared at Holly, still unconvinced.
“I’m leaving,” he threatened, completely prepared for her to stay behind, like a sane person would.
“I know a great boutique not far from here where we can get what we need. Judging by that invitation, it looks rustic chic. We’ll have to keep that in mind when shopping.” Holly hopped to her feet and waited for him to head toward the door.
Was she actually going to come with him?
“Last chance to back out,” Nolan offered. She sidled up next to him, a bounce in her step.
“Last chance to uninvite me,” she smiled, looking up at him from under her dark lashes.
“I never technically invited you,” he corrected. “So how could I uninvite you?”
“You’re right,” she agreed, pulling her hat back down on her head as they stepped into the cold air. “I guess you can’t.”
Chapter Two
When Holly woke up that morning she had a feeling her life was about to change. No. She knew better than that. Feelings and hope didn’t get you anywhere. When Holly woke up, she decided her life would change.
Now here she was, a brand new designer dress packaged perfectly in the box behind her, as the car drove toward a luxurious ski resort in Vermont. She’d managed to become the passenger in a stranger’s car, and that was perfectly fine with her. Maybe it was because he was gorgeous. Or maybe because his eyes were kind and his smile coy in that damaged kind of way. Holly was a sucker for an underdog and Nolan had that look about him.
“I feel like I should have seen your dress before we left,” Nolan said, sounding nervous. “You’re a bit of a wild card, and I need to not screw this up for my sister
.”
“The dress is perfect. It matches what I picked out for you, and it’s all exactly suited for the event the way it’s described on the invitation. I promise.” Every girl wanted a bit of a fairy tale. Even Holly wasn’t immune to that fantasy. Nolan was the kind of prince you wanted to spin you around the dance floor. Tall. Handsome. A smile punctuated with dimples.
“I’m not sure why your promises are supposed to mean anything since we’re strangers.” Nolan’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, either because of unease about her presence or the black ice the radio kept warning about.
“You just bought me a five-thousand-dollar designer dress. I don’t think we can still be considered strangers.” The line of trees on the highway was bare, their leaves all blown away by the last blizzard. It had been a winter of record snowfall, and no one knew that better than Holly, since she constantly felt like she was outrunning the cold.
“I feel like I need to tell you something,” Nolan said, clearing his throat. “For the sake of full disclosure.”
“Okaaay,” Holly replied tentatively, drawing the word out. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, unsure of what he might have to say. This whole idea of changing her life by force was suddenly feeling too spontaneous. But in order to make a change, you have to change what you do.
“I’m not sure if you came because you’re under the impression I’m rich, but it feels unfair to lead you on. I’m not.” His shoulders slumped as he tried to let her down easy.
Holly laughed the same way she had when he warned he could be a serial killer. “I know you aren’t rich.”
“Well, I . . . uh,” he stuttered. “What do you mean by that? I could be wealthy. I’m just letting you know I’m not.”
A Billionaire For Lexi: Holiday Novella (The Barrington Billionaires, Book 3.5) Page 17