Three Wishes_A Second Chance at Love Contemporary Romance

by Mary J. Williams

  Noah groaned as he took his seat.

  "Speaking of backs."

  The human body wasn't designed to sit on its ass all day. When he perfected his program and revolutionized the world of cyber-security, he'd hire other people to click a keyboard hour after hour, day after day.

  Unfortunately, until his ship barreled in, he was a workforce of one.

  Andi appreciated ambition. For a moment, Noah let himself think of her without recriminations. How many times did he have to remind himself how wrong they were for each other? He wouldn't fit in her world, and she certainly wouldn't fit in his. Didn't matter that his sights were firmly set on moving up. No matter how high he rose, she would always be out of reach.

  Class and classless. The two didn't mix.

  "Get out of my head, Anderson Benedict."

  With a growl, Noah tapped the keyboard. One letter followed by another and another. As long as he could remember, all he had needed to keep him going were his dreams. His fingers picked up speed. In spite of one beautiful, unattainable blonde, nothing had changed.

  ~~~~

  THE LACE WAS painstakingly crafted by hand by one of the most skilled artisans in the word. Beyond delicate, the ivory threads seemed to glimmer in the defused sunlight. Food had little effect on Andi's taste buds. Hand her an exquisite piece of material, and her drool reflex shifted into high gear.

  Bryce peered over Andi's shoulder. Hands bare or the requisite white linen gloves Andi sported, her sister dutifully followed the instructions, look but don't touch.

  "Did you ask the price?"

  "Doesn't matter."

  Andi cooed as if she held a baby. In a way, she did. Months of effort and skill had been dedicated to the production of each precious yard. For Madam Linford, the lace was like her child.

  "I know we're stinking rich, but since when do you buy something blindly? The heiress in you might not care, but the businesswoman believes in the bottom-line first and foremost."

  "Nothing's changed."

  Smiling her thanks, Andi handed the material back to Madam Linford's eagle-eyed assistant. The little house in the heart of Paris might look like someplace a sweet French grandmother might reside. The sitting room was filled to bursting with brocade-covered furniture and smelled like lavender. But cameras watched their every move. A security guard—armed—remained unobtrusively in the shadows.

  Rumors swirled about a hermetically sealed vault below street level where a veritable treasure trove of lace in every color, texture, and design was stored. True or false, just the thought made Andi's fashion-loving heart pound with excitement.

  "Then ask the price," Bryce hissed out the side of her mouth.

  Andi gave her sister an indulgent smile. They were in Paris for pleasure. An impulse trip over a long weekend. Bryce wanted to celebrate the completion of her latest book. And Andi simply wanted to get away and hopefully out of her own head.

  The side trip to visit Madam Linford was unplanned. Like any temperamental artist, the woman refused to live by something as bourgeois as a schedule. She received visitors when in the mood, lived the life of a recluse the rest of the time. As for her precious lace, few people were allowed to get a look, let alone purchase it.

  Certain she would never gain access, especially on such short notice, Andi reached out through a friend of a friend on a whim. When she received word Madam Linford would see her that afternoon, she almost fainted.

  Bryce wasn't as obsessive about fashion as Andi—few people were. However, she loved to dress well, and she loved a good story. The chance to indulge both was a no-brainer.

  "The lace isn't for my personal inventory. Mila Shore won't settle for ordinary. She wants her dress to be the envy of every woman in the world. Price is no object."

  The marriage of the movie goddess to Tommy Roe, her rock star fiancé, was touted to be America's equivalent of a royal wedding. Designers crawled over each other for the chance to not only craft Mila Stone's dress, but a large, elaborate trousseau as well.

  Andi was so busy she didn't try to compete for a job she didn't have time to tackle. But when the actress asked for her personally, she did what anyone with half a brain would do. She said yes.

  "You'll need more than a few yards of lace to cover Mila Stone's sizable assets."

  "I'd settle for a square." Andi lowered her voice. "But I want more."

  "How much more?" Bryce whispered.

  "As much as I can get."

  "Greedy."

  Andi laughed.

  "Where one of a kind lace is concerned, damn right."

  They sipped their rosehip tea and tried not to make a face. The flowery, too-sweet brew wasn't to their taste, but good manners, and the need to please demanded they finish every drop.

  "I saw Noah."

  Andi almost spit her tea across the room.

  "Where?"

  Her eyes darted from knickknack to knickknack as if she expected Noah to pop out from behind one of the dozen or so miniature statues.

  "Not here." Bryce snorted. "At Myron's Deli down in Tribeca."

  With a sigh, Andi wiped a dribble of liquid from her chin.

  "You could have told me sooner."

  "Since the two of you did the deed in the linen closet, his name has been persona non grata." Bryce sighed. "I mention him now because I'm tired of pussyfooting. And, I thought several thousand miles might loosen your tongue."

  "I told you what happened." Andi confided in her sisters because that's what they did. Talking to each other was as necessary as sunlight.

  "The bare facts. So to speak," Bryce snickered. "Sorry. What really happened? Did he say something? Hurt you?"

  "Don't be ridiculous. Noah was…"

  "Yes?"

  "Wonderful." For the life of her, Andi couldn't think of a single thing to say against him. Nor did she want to. "We enjoyed each other."

  "And then nothing?" Bryce shook her head. "Not even a phone call or a text?"

  "One time was great." Phenomenal. "Obviously, neither of us is interested in a second go-round."

  "You tense up every time Noah's name is mentioned. And you look, I don't know, not exactly sad. More like wistful." Gently, lovingly, Bryce put her head on Andi's shoulder. "Happy Andi has gone into hiding."

  "I'm not sad."

  She was too busy. Bryce's choice of words described her feelings best. Andi was wistful over Noah. No matter what her crazy heart said, she didn't have the right to be anything else.

  "Noah said the same thing."

  "You told me you saw Noah, not that you spoke with him." Andi hesitated, not sure she wanted to know. Of course, she wanted to know. "What did he say?"

  "At first, I thought he'd turn and walk away without a word. But, I have to say the man's manners are impeccable."

  "I'm aware." Her sister, on the other hand, was an annoying tease. "Tell me what he said."

  "Hello." Bryce snickered. "Sorry. You look so serious and anxious, I couldn't resist a little poke. He asked how I was. I said fine. I inquired about him. He's fine. Which is B.S. The man looks haggard. Naturally, I kept my opinion to myself."

  "You?" Andi didn't believe Bryce for a second. "Since when have you ever been afraid to say exactly what you think?"

  "I never kick a man when he's down."

  "Noah's fine."

  "So he said. You tell me the same thing. I don't believe either of you."

  "Men can jumble our logical female brains, no?"

  A woman of an indeterminate age floated from the shadows. She could have been fifty or pushing eighty. The combination of her striking bone structure, dim lighting, and artfully applied makeup gave her the timeless look few women could hope to achieve.

  "Madam Linford?"

  As the woman inclined her head, Andi jumped to her feet, pulling Bryce with her. How could they sit in the presence of genius?

  "My name is Andi Benedict. This is my sister Bryce."

>   "The fashion designer and the author." Madam Linford floated across the room. "You have two other sisters, oui? Are they also artistically inclined?"

  "Calder heads a charity she founded right out of college. And Destry…?" Andi was never certain how to describe her youngest sister's occupation.

  "Destry loves adventure," Bryce continued.

  "Exactly." Andi smiled at her sister's perfect description. "Think Wonder Woman meets Nelly Bly."

  "How delightful." Madam Linford clapped her hands, her face wreathed in smiles. "You must bring her to meet me the next time you are in Paris. But, you are much too young to know the name Nelly Bly."

  "As are you," Andi countered. "However, we're intelligent women more than capable of reading about other intelligent women. Oui?"

  "C'est magnifique." Madam Linford motioned to her assistant. "Bring the sunlight, Babette."

  A shorter, less flamboyant copy of her employer, Babette blinked as if unsure she heard correctly.

  "But Madam. Are you certain?"

  Obviously unused to anyone second-guessing her, Madam Linford's cool, imperious gaze turned arctic.

  "The sunlight. Tout de suite."

  "Yes, Madam.

  Babette bowed, backing from the room. The underling and the queen, Andi mused.

  "More tea while we wait?"

  "We'd love some." Andi nudged Bryce's knee.

  "Yes," Bryce nodded. "Please."

  The older woman waited while a servant filled her cup and refreshed Andi and Bryce's. She sipped, closed her eyes, and sighed.

  "Perfect. Now, tell me about your young man."

  Surprised, Andi paused with her cup halfway to her mouth. She set the drink back in the saucer as she gathered her thoughts.

  "Noah is a young man, Madam. Though, he's hardly mine."

  "But you wish him to be, oui?"

  If Andi hoped for help from her sister, she was out of luck. Bryce, eyebrows raised, waited for an answer with the same interest as Madam Linford.

  "I don't have time for a man in my life. As a successful businesswoman, I'm sure you understand."

  "What nonsense." Madam Linford sighed. "You, young woman, are a fool."

  "Excuse me?"

  "You tell her, Madam Linford." Bryce looked so thrilled by Madam's verbal smackdown, Andi expected her to pump a fist in the air at any moment.

  "Thanks for the sisterly support."

  "My support is unwavering," Bryce assured her. "Doesn't mean you get a free pass when you make a mistake. And letting Noah go was a mistake."

  "I didn't let him go, exactly. He walked away."

  "And you did not try to stop him?" Madam Linford tsked. "Pride won't keep your bed warm on a cold, winter's night."

  Suddenly, Andi remembered who she was. She didn't question her decisions. And, she sure as heck wouldn't let anyone make her doubt herself.

  "I have an electric blanket. Unlike a man, it never lets me down."

  "Nor makes you laugh, or cry, or explode with joy." Madam's eyes grew dreamy as if remembering the men who traveled in and out of her life. "I've had one great love. And lost him many years ago."

  "I'm sorry." Andi felt her heart squeeze in sympathy.

  "Love, great or otherwise, must be celebrated, mon petit, no matter how long, or short the time given us here on earth. I keep my memories close. However, I still enjoy romance. We are creatures of passion. To deny our nature would be to spit at God."

  "You are my new heroine," Bryce bubbled. "Would you mind if I used you as inspiration for a character in my next book? Different name, of course."

  "To protect the innocent?" Madam's lyrical laughter filled the room. "I would be delighted. If you promise to send me an autographed copy."

  "Deal."

  As Bryce and Madam Linford made their pact, Andi wrestled with the wise woman's words of advice. Embrace love in all forms. Tempting, but easier said than done. She wished she could be as free with her thinking. But look what happened when she let her hormones have reign over logic. While the sex with Noah was earthshaking, so was the regret that followed.

  "Ah, here is Babette."

  Madam Linford's assistant tiptoed into the room as if she carried a sleeping child instead of a swath of fine, cream-colored linen. Carefully, she presented the bundle to her employer.

  "Now and then, I create a piece of lace so special it cannot be sold." Madam reverently unwrapped her treasure. "Behold. My sunlight."

  Andi gasped as beside her, Bryce's hand gripped her arm.

  "Oh, Madam. It's…" Andi swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm speechless."

  "As you should be." Madam beamed with pride. "Feel."

  "Really?" Andi's fingers itched to reach out, but she hesitated, afraid the ethereal fabric might disappear.

  "I insist."

  Andi lowered herself to her knees into a position of reverence in front of Madam Linford. Tentative, she reached out, willing her hand not to shake.

  The lace was light as a wisp, the intricate design a series of interlocking hearts. So delicate and precise, the kind of material angels would weave if they were so inclined. Angels, or one divine woman with magic in her hands.

  "I see the sunlight," Andi sighed.

  "Do you?" Madam's eyes sharpened. "Not everyone can."

  "How could they not? Each curve shimmers with gold. Breathtaking."

  "My gift to you."

  "What?" Andi snatched back her hand. "You can't be serious. All the work, the time you devoted. I'll pay whatever you want."

  "Not everything has a price tag, mon petit." Madam, eyes filled with tears, cupped Andi's cheek. "As I made the lace, I sensed it belonged to someone. Now, I know who."

  "I don't know what to say." Andi blinked as moisture formed in her eyes.

  "One day, you will sew a dress by hand. A wedding dress for yourself. Perhaps for your Noah. Perhaps for another man. When you feel the softness of the lace against your skin, know I am with you. My immortality."

  Bryce's sniffle brought a smile to Madam's lips. She took three tissues from a nearby box. One for her, one for Andi, one for Bryce.

  "I'm humbled." Andi blew her nose.

  "And I will, how you say, gouge you on the price of the lace you came to purchase." Madam laughed, joined by Andi and Bryce. "I think your movie goddess will not complain, non?"

  "Definitely, non."

  "As for you." Madam looked at Bryce. "You will choose something for your wedding day. And for your Calder and Destry."

  "Will you gouge me, too?" Bryce teased.

  "I think regular price for the Benedict sisters."

  "Madam." Andi took the woman's hands. "Thank you for your generosity."

  "I don't like most people. I'm old, I have earned the right," she shrugged. "I am also rich. So, when I meet the rare people I can not only tolerate but who touch my heart, I embrace them."

  "If you ever come to New York—"

  "I never leave Paris. You, and your sisters, will come to me. Not too often," Madam warned.

  "We will come. I promise."

  "And next time, you will bring Noah, perhaps?"

  "Madam, I…" Andi didn't have an answer.

  "One more piece of advice. Keep your mind open, mon petit. And your heart. The rest will take care of itself."

  Andi wished she could be as sure as Madam Linford. Because, even if she wanted Noah, he might not feel the same.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ~~~~

  ANDI DIDN'T HAVE time to worry about what Noah wanted. The moment she and Bryce returned to New York, work became the center of her universe.

  After a long, exhausting meeting with Mila Shore about designs and ideas about materials, and fit, and style and for some reason, the pros and cons of waxing over laser hair removal, Andi threw herself into the high-profile assignment.

  Added to the stress, she needed to enlarge her staff to deal with the jobs already on the book
s. Finding seamstresses, and pattern cutters, etc. wasn't difficult. Keeping them on track was another matter. Andi quickly discovered not everyone was a self-starter like herself.

  Thank the heavens she found an assistant who didn't need prodding and pushing. Sandra Morton was fresh out of college, but what she lacked in experience, she made up for in the good old-fashioned ability to kick unmotivated butts.

  While Andi was too busy to give Noah more than a passing thought, fate, and perhaps the spirit of Madam Linford, wouldn't let the subject drop so easily. Turned out New York wasn't as big as she thought. Everywhere she turned, she ran into Noah.

  The first time was on the sidewalk next to the little coffee shop Andi frequented when she needed an afternoon pick-me-up. The smart, time-efficient thing to do would be to keep a snack in her office. But smart didn't always equal sensible. If she didn't give herself an excuse to stretch her legs now and then, Andi wouldn't budge from her chair. A little fresh air and sunshine refueled her engines as much as her favorite bear claw and black coffee.

  "Can I get you a pastry?" Andi stuck her head through the door of Sandra's little office.

  "Celery and carrot stick day." Sandra patted her curves. One day a week, she denied herself so the other six days she could indulge in the foods she loved. "I'll take a green tea, though."

  "Be back in fifteen."

  "Splurge," Sandra called out as Andi hustled toward the staircase. "Take twenty."

  "Fifteen tops," Andi yelled back. "I'm stuck on the movie goddess' outfit for the reception after the reception."

  Mila Stone insisted she needed seven complete ensembles for her wedding day. One to lounge around before she left for the hotel where the ceremony would take place. One to wear to the hotel. The dress itself. Something stunning for post-nuptial drinks before the main reception. The reception dress had to complement her bridal gown but not look too similar. A sexy number for the next phase of the evening, an intimate dinner for two hundred of Mila and her groom's closest, most intimate friends. Finally, a barely there, somehow sexy, yet virginal negligee to make all other negligees wilt with envy.

  After so many outfit changes, Andi wondered how the bride would have enough energy left to consummate the marriage.