by Jenny Hale
“My agent sent in my demo for a TV show in LA,” Phoebe said, excitedly. “Maybe it’ll be The One. Noelle, you in?”
Noelle gave her an excited nod.
Growing up, Phoebe didn’t have much support from her family. Her parents were always at odds, and her mother would often spend many days isolated from her due to depression over her marital problems, leaving little Phoebe alone. Because of that, Phoebe spent a lot of time with Noelle, and she’d confided in her once that she needed Noelle because she was the only real family Phoebe had known.
The two of them had made a pact in high school: Phoebe had said if she ever got a big acting part out in LA, she could never make a move like that alone. So Noelle had promised to go with her. They’d decided that if something big came Phoebe’s way, it was meant to be and they’d throw all their plans to the wind just to see what happened. Noelle had even mentioned it to Lucas, although she did tell him there was a chance it would never happen.
Pop-pop turned to Noelle. “Hey, pretty lady. How are ya?”
“Great!” Noelle said, wondering, despite the upbeat atmosphere, how soon would be too soon to find out what Pop-pop really thought about closing the bakery. The idea of losing that beautiful property and all her gram’s hard work was eating at her. It wasn’t like him at all to just get rid of it without a fight, and, now that she’d calmed down, she was dying to know what was going on.
“I’ve got the table set in the dining room so we can accommodate everyone,” her mother said, as she handed Pop-pop his glass of wine. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. Phoebe, I do hope you wear that dress,” she said with a laugh.
“So what is your news?” her mother said to Noelle, as they all sat around the table after their meal. She was leaning back in her chair, her eyes glassy from the wine, her face calm and relaxed. “I’ve been waiting the whole dinner for you to tell us.” Gus, who was passing out plates of cinnamon-crumble apple pie, stopped to listen, a plate poised in each hand. He hadn’t been very talkative all evening, but even so, Noelle could tell that having everyone home had lifted his mood just a bit, and she was glad for that.
Noelle felt that zinging elation again that things were going to be just fine. Her news had come like some kind of Christmas miracle just waiting to be unwrapped for everyone to see. “I got a job!” she said, smiling over at her sister. “Heidi found it for me—but that’s not all the news.” Lucas sat up on his knees as he listened. Even Muffy stopped chewing her bone in the corner of the room. “You know Alexander Harrington up on the hill?”
Pop-pop looked up from his plate, suddenly interested.
Phoebe was leaning on her elbow, her glass of wine swinging from her fingertips, her eyes round with curiosity and obvious surprise at hearing that name. She’d changed into a cable-knit sweater and a pair of jeans, her Snow Queen dress lumped in a corner of the kitchen. “Oh, yes!” Phoebe said. “We used to walk by his house on the way home from school just hoping we’d get to see him.” She tipped her head toward Jo. “Don’t you wonder what that mansion looks like inside? I’ll bet he eats on gold plates.”
Jo chuckled.
“I’ll be taking care of Alexander Harrington’s grandfather full-time,” Noelle said, the idea of walking the hallways of that mansion still surreal even as the words came off her lips.
There was a collective gasp.
Pop-pop dropped his fork, making a clatter against the plate. He picked it up.
“That’s who posted the job—the Harringtons?” Heidi said. She shook her head. “I should have applied…”
“You’re working in the mansion?” her mother asked. “Are you going to live there?”
“Yep.” She could hardly stand the excitement. She’d make a great living, work in a fantastic location, and still live close to her family and friends. “They’ve got a suite in one of the wings set up for me and Lucas!”
Lucas’s eyes danced from person to person, clearly excited at the mention of living in a mansion. Noelle followed his lead, taking stock of every one of their expressions. She wanted to remember giving this news forever. It might be the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her and Lucas. Heidi’s eyes were wide, her lips sucked in as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Noelle felt the same way, the thrill of it rising up every time she let it. She tossed an enthusiastic grin toward Phoebe and Jo, who both laughed with happiness for her, their heads shaking. But as her gaze shifted to her mother, whose face wasn’t joyous like the others’—it was more apprehensive—she looked away, settling on her father and Pop-pop, and they caused her to stop in her tracks.
Gus set the last piece of pie in front of his place and took a seat slowly, his wary eyes on Pop-pop. The two of them exchanged loaded glances, and their expressions showed just enough trepidation to cause Noelle concern, the initial excitement she’d had now floating out of her like runaway helium balloons.
“What’s the matter?” she asked down the table toward them.
Pop-pop signaled for her father to explain.
“I’m not too happy with Mr. Harrington at the moment,” he said, the gentle smile he’d had earlier now gone. Though it seemed like he didn’t want to elaborate, Noelle urged him to with her gaze. Her immediate future was on the line here, and she needed to know what was going on. If he was worried about divulging his thoughts around Phoebe and Jo, he didn’t need to. They knew everything about her family, so what was the use in hovering around in mere pleasantries? She didn’t need to say anything, though, because Gus continued, “Alexander Harrington is the reason I’m having to close the bakery.”
With that statement any remaining thrill drained right out of her with the speed of water through an open floodgate. “What?”
“Hope and Sugar Bakery is closing?” Phoebe said, concern sliding across her face. She set her wine down, the shock causing her to straighten up and shift all her focus toward Pop-pop.
Pop-pop nodded, his features falling in defeat. Noelle could still remember that day in the hospital when Gram’s health had slipped so far that they worried about leaving her for even five minutes. With IVs in her hand, her skin translucent from both age and her body’s fight to keep going, she’d reached out for Pop-pop’s arm, fear on her sweet face. “Don’t let the bakery go,” she’d said. “I know it won’t matter to me in a short time, but I want you to keep it for the girls.” Noelle’s father had been helping Pop-pop run it ever since.
“Alexander Harrington put us out of business,” Gus said, shooting a protective glance over to Pop-pop and ripping Noelle from her memory. “He owns the building and he’s the one who hiked the rent up so high that we can’t afford to stay.” Gus took in a breath before adding, “Mr. Harrington’s even got an interested renter poking around, taking measurements of the space already for some women’s clothing shop.”
There wasn’t a sound in the room as they all looked at each other for help, no one having answers, and Noelle’s stomach turning like a stormy sea.
So many memories with Gram were made at Hope and Sugar Bakery. She’d meticulously learned every single recipe, promising her grandmother that she’d pass them along to the next generation. Pop-pop’s bookshelves would be torn down, surely, the furniture discarded, the fireplace boarded up with some sort of faux-fire scene or covered over entirely. There’d be no more stockings on the mantle to be filled for the needy, no more cases of cookies, with a basket of broken ones for free, no more visits by the patrons Noelle had grown to love, like the Palmer twins or Richard and Beverly Anderson—those people were just names to everyone else, but they were like family to Noelle.
As all of this settled in her mind, what crept in with certainty was the fact that there was no way, now, that she would feel comfortable working for the Harrington family. At the very least, it was a conflict of interest.
Everyone at the table had fallen into a quiet chatter, nervously asking if Pop-pop would be okay, as Noelle digested everything. She heard her father reas
sure them that he would, but she didn’t know how that was possible. Pop-pop needed the earnings from the bakery—what would he live on?
“I’ll email Melinda Burnett and let her know that I won’t be able to take the job.” Noelle’s chest felt like it would explode. What was wrong with the world these days? Laying off people at the holidays, closing family businesses without even a thought about how to save them? As she looked around the table, at all the worry and unease that surrounded her, she remembered Gram’s words: No matter what happens, we’ll always have Christmas. But even Christmas wouldn’t make this situation any better. Gram would be so sad to see this.
Her mother spoke up. “Noelle, honey, you should take it. It’ll get you back on your feet again. We’re all grown-ups here; we can understand your need to work, over the issues we have with Mr. Harrington.” Her mother seemed to show solidarity with her father by the look she gave him, but Noelle wasn’t so sure he agreed.
Noelle took stock of everyone: her friends seemed genuinely worried for her, her mother, encouraging, Pop-pop was misty-eyed, giving her a lump in her throat, but it was her father who gave her pause. He had a look of warning in his eyes, and she knew that it was because he just wouldn’t work for someone who went against the family. That was the kind of guy he was.
But Noelle had Lucas to think about, and herself. If she was going to be a good mother, she couldn’t be troubled by where the next meal came from. Lucas needed a Christmas. He needed to feel just as special as all his friends at school. He was already starting in a new class since their move back home, and he didn’t know a soul. Given how extremely quiet he was, and how he was working above the rest of the class’s academic level, fitting in would certainly be hard for him. The very last thing she wanted him to feel was inferior in any way.
Noelle tore her eyes away from her father’s disapproving glare and nodded at her mother. “I’ll figure it out,” she said. Then she looked back at her father. “Maybe I can convince him to bring the rent down or something.” She knew it was probably a long shot and by the look on his face, her father thought so too.
Chapter Five
Noelle pulled the car around the perfectly manicured hedges that flanked the water feature in front of the mansion, the little hauling trailer full of her things coming to an abrupt stop behind the car as she braked. Lucas puffed his cheeks out, his eyes the size of saucers, at the sight. Noelle was glad Melinda had allowed them to move in on the weekend so Lucas could come with her and get settled in before starting at his new school.
With a nervous breath, Noelle beheld the brick home, all seventy thousand square feet of it, the windows adorned with green wreaths and silver bows, the fresh garland made of berries and magnolia leaves cascading down the railings, a spruce tree covered in white lights stretching into the heavens.
They got out, shut the doors, and headed toward the four-column portico, its crown an ornamental half-circle the size of her bedroom back home. Glad to be meeting Melinda Burnett, Noelle was hoping to just be able to avoid Alexander Harrington for the moment. Perhaps she’d be so busy with Mr. Harrington Senior that she’d get lucky, and she and Alexander would never meet in this enormous house. Maybe he wasn’t even there. They climbed the mass of stairs and rang the bell.
The black double door towered in front of them. Lucas tipped his head back, his chest filling with air as he gasped at the size of it, and Noelle wondered if the reality of living here was setting in. She looked down at him, amused. There were very few times in his young life she’d seen him this interested, and she knew that, for years to come, they would talk about living in this mansion. She heard a click and then the door creaked open, its heaviness apparent with the slow way in which it swung on its hinges. Noelle let out a sigh of relief, her breath puffing in front of her in the cold air, when she saw a woman on the other side.
The woman, dressed meticulously in a navy skirt suit and heels, her hair combed into an up-do that wouldn’t allow a single strand to misbehave, held out a manicured hand. “Hi, Noelle, Melinda Burnett,” she said. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
Noelle shook her hand and Melinda greeted Lucas with a friendly nod.
“Come in. I’ll show you two where you’ll be staying, and I’m sure you’re excited to get the ball rolling with Mr. Harrington. Once I’ve given you the tour of your suite, I’ll take you through to meet him.”
They entered the foyer. The floor was covered in glossy white square tiles, each one so big that, even if he’d wanted to, Lucas couldn’t play the game he liked where he jumped from tile to tile. Her view moved from the floor to the curving staircases on either side of the room, the railings, wrought iron and ornately delicate, peeking out from under the mounds of greenery and ribbon. They walked past the circular entry table, positioned under a spectacular glass chandelier, and Noelle wondered, by the way it shone, if the beads in it were actually crystals. She could imagine Phoebe, always enamored with this place, saying that given all the Harringtons’ money, they were probably diamonds, and Noelle had to stifle a grin.
Phoebe had been infatuated with this house her entire life, and while Noelle wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen him, Phoebe swore that she’d had a glimpse of Alexander Harrington when he’d gotten out of his car once, and she’d said he looked like a model. One time, when Noelle had walked home from school alone, she believed she’d seen him too, and she’d thought he was, in fact, gorgeous, but she’d never admit it to Phoebe because she’d have gone on and on about it. She wasn’t even sure it had been Alexander, but she had always wondered. Noelle decided it was most likely just wishful thinking on her part. He was probably short and fat with terrible fashion sense. It was highly unlikely they’d meet anyway, since her dealings would be with William Harrington.
“Oh!” Noelle said, her voice echoing as she slammed into the broad, starched chest of a man. She looked up: he had a hint of stubble, green eyes that were like emeralds with little gold flecks in them, and light hair with strands of gold. As that square jaw twitched ever so subtly into a smile, every inch of her was tingling with embarrassment.
“I was looking at the chandelier,” she said, realizing just then that she’d been craning her neck backwards to see it as she and Lucas followed Melinda. If she were alone, she’d have slapped herself. Stupid comment, she thought.
Melinda cleared her throat. She was standing almost at attention, her hands behind her back, a cordial expression on her face. “This is Alexander Harrington.”
When she’d said she’d take them to meet Mr. Harrington, Noelle had assumed Melinda had meant the grandfather William, not his grandson Alexander.
“Call me Alex,” he said, looking at Lucas and raising his eyebrows with a smile, before offering Noelle a handshake.
“I’m sorry,” Noelle said, holding out her hand as she noticed her lipgloss on his shirt. She smothered a cringe with a weak smile, trying not to stare and draw his attention to it. “I’m Noelle Parker and this is my son Lucas. I’ll be taking care of your grandfather.” Lucas waved and then peered up at his mother to see what he was supposed to do.
“Yes,” Alex said, as if she’d just stated the obvious, which she probably had.
She bit her lip.
“I’ve come to see if you need any help with your bags. Melinda, I’ll show them where they’re staying. You can go now. I know you’ve got a million things going on before you head off to England for the holidays.”
“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” she said, and then with a quick smile in Noelle’s direction, Melinda shuffled across the large entryway, leaving them alone with Alex. Was that how they were supposed to behave around him? As if they were trained puppies, their every movement dictated by him? Noelle wasn’t used to that. She raised her chin and straightened her spine to hide her feelings of inadequacy.
“How many bags do you have?” he asked, turning toward the hallway ahead of them and pausing to allow Noelle and Lucas to follow. His words were direct, not even a suggestion of emo
tion, but it was as if he were hiding it. She could almost feel a hint of kindness behind them—just enough to make her wonder about it. She looked at him with a skeptical eye.
“A trailer full,” she said.
“No problem. I’ll have the staff bring it all in once I show you around.” He started walking and she noticed the perfectly smooth leather of his shoes, how the bottom of his trousers fell so seamlessly onto his laces that she knew he’d have had a tailor hem them professionally. Everything about him seemed controlled, perfect, unruffled, and she couldn’t imagine how that must feel because even though she liked to have things in order, she wasn’t sure she could ever achieve the aura that he had.
While they walked, a surge of worry shot through Noelle as she thought about a stranger handling some of the boxes in the trailer. She’d already made such a scene with bumping into him that she didn’t want to be difficult on top of it, but she couldn’t help herself. “There are a few boxes I’d like to get myself,” she said.
The skin between Alex’s eyes wrinkled in a shockingly adorable way, causing all the saliva to drain right out of her mouth. Phoebe would die… But there was no way he was going to sway her into thinking he was anything but heartless. She’d heard enough from her dad and Pop-pop to know better.
“Why?” he asked, taking a moment to stop and address her.
“It’s my antique teacup collection. I guard it with my life.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Oh. Are you a big tea drinker?”
“No. I like coffee, actually. And I prefer mugs for that.”