It was the sort of romantic wedding dress that any bride would be thrilled to wear. So why wasn’t Nate’s daughter planning on wearing it? Had the poor child been seriously injured? No, she couldn’t think about that. But there had to be some sad story behind it, because Nate’s reaction was so melancholy. Had he really liked his daughter’s fiancé, and been sorry when the relationship ended? Or had some sad family events torn the two lovers apart?
Oh, my, I feel another novel plot coming on, Noelia whispered to the dress.
Sasha arrived, out of breath, just as Noelia finished putting the dress in a protective cover on a hanger and was about to start rearranging furniture.
“Sorry I’m so late, Noelia . . . ” she panted. “I was . . . ”
Noelia held up her hand. “Don’t get into explanations! How many times since you promised Brett and Kelly you would work here have you been late? Were you out last night and couldn’t get up this morning? No, don’t tell me. Just get a coverall from the storeroom and come help me make the changes Kelly wants. We’ve some heavy lifting to do.”
Sasha looked crestfallen. “I just wanted to tell you . . . ”
“Really, hon., don’t bother. Seems like you’re not cut out for ordinary work like the rest of us mere mortals. Please get ready and help me put these shelves back on their wall brackets. They’re too heavy for me to lift.”
Noelia wished she’d bitten her tongue when she saw the glimmer of tears in Sasha’s eyes. Why was she so harsh with the flighty young woman? Maybe because she’d had to work so hard since she was younger than Sasha? Surely it wasn’t that she was jealous of the younger woman and her carefree ways? Noelia raised her hand to catch Sasha’s attention and offer an apology, but the young woman sniffed loudly and rushed into the back storeroom, leaving Noelia feeling guilty that she hadn’t given her a chance to explain her tardiness. What if Sasha was in trouble and needed some help with a problem?
Chapter Five
Noelia woke the next morning to an unexpected day off. Kelly had been so pleased with the work they’d gotten done yesterday in revamping the store—and feeling guilty that she hadn’t arrived until mid-afternoon to help—that she’d given Noelia the following day off.
“Seriously, hon, you did more than your share yesterday, as well as manning the fort for the past month. Go home, have a nice long bubble bath, and sleep late in the morning. I’m sure Sasha and I can manage the sale we’ve advertised.”
Noelia felt a bit rejected not to be included in the store’s “new look” opening sale, but she was honest enough to admit that all the extra hours she’d put in at the store, volunteering at the hospital, and trying to keep up with her writing had left her exhausted.
The idea of a long, luxurious late morning in bed followed by a leisurely shower was sheer bliss! But then, with time unexpectedly on her hands, she was restless. Walking around her garden with her morning coffee didn’t soothe her as it usually did, although she stopped to admire the early spring flowers and the fat pregnant buds on the ornamental trees and shrubs.
Back in her tidy and sunlit kitchen, she made toast and helped herself to another cup of coffee. “Umm, there’s so much to do. I could finish that last chapter, the one that’s been so troublesome. And the garden could use a little TLC. I did get paint for the gazebo, but maybe it’s just a bit too cold outside today . . . ”
She sat at her kitchen island and flipped through a magazine that had arrived in the previous day’s mail. “Wouldn’t you know it—a special spring wedding issue! All that romance! Bah, humbug!” And she tossed the magazine down in disgust.
Despite having longed for some time to herself, she was suddenly at loose ends. “Maybe I’m just lonely. I should get a cat like that cutesy critter Kelly has, Sullivan.”
No, darn it—I am lonely, but not for a furry friend!
It was all the fault of her human friends—Kelly just wed, Mary acting like a teenager in love even though she was, well, a good few years older than Noelia . . . and to cap it all off, working in a wedding store. All this romance was just too much.
For a wild moment, she considered finding Dr. Nate Westbury’s phone number in the Marina Grove directory and inviting him for a drink, or dinner . . . An idea she quickly squashed. She’d thought herself daring to write her number on the card she gave him, but the idea of calling him first, well, that was too much. That might be something Sasha could do, but a staid middle-aged lady like herself simply didn’t go around inviting men out.
Even though there’s no doubt that this staid middle-aged lady experiences a hormone riot and seems unable to stop herself from flirting with that particular handsome doctor.
Instead she contented herself by opening the file on the next Mimi L’Amour romance novel she was working on and immersing herself in the fictional and forbidden love of a duke for his lady.
The resulting love scene was so hot she blushed deeply and chewed her lip as she wrote it. At least her editor would be pleased.
• • •
Back in his office, Nate was pondering the same question, only about himself. He couldn’t deny the attraction to Noelia Russo, but good Lord, he was way out of practice in the courting game and wasn’t sure he even wanted to get into it again.
She’s gorgeous, sexy, fun. What would she want with a serious academic type like me? And what if she’s married? That last thought made his pulse skip a beat with disappointment.
No matter how he tried to rationalize it, there was no denying that the pull was there, that subtle sense that he’d like to stroke her soft blond hair, then tease her just for the sake of seeing that petal pink rise over her cheeks . . . and then he’d kiss that smooth skin . . .
Last night he’d even dreamed about her and been unable to get back to sleep afterward as feelings and needs roiled within him that he’d thought were long under control.
For heaven’s sake, I’m a psychologist! I’m supposed to understand human nature, human needs.
So what would he do if he were therapist to himself as his own client, expressing these feelings of anxiety and self-doubt?
Himself: I need help, I really do. There’s this woman . . .
Dr. Nate: What’s the problem? You’re a big boy.
Oh, heavens, I’d never speak to a client like that!
Himself: The problem, doctor, is that I’m madly attracted to her. But I’ve been out of circulation for years and years. After my wife Jackie died, I didn’t think I’d ever want another woman. Then, boom! Right out of left field I almost fall over this one in the hospital corridor, and now she’s everywhere I go. Almost like fate has intervened.
Dr. Nate: You know we therapists don’t believe in fate. We use cognitive behavioral therapy with guys like you, to try to teach you ways to handle your past and develop new ways of doing things . . .
Silence . . .
Himself: You’re not actually helping me much, Dr. Nate.
Dr. Nate: Sigh. Well, your fifty-five minutes are up, and I have other clients who need me.
Himself: The blind leading the blind?
Dr. Nate: Oh, go away. I don’t know why I ever bothered trying to be my own therapist.
Nate grabbed a handful of jelly beans from the pot on his desk—ostensibly kept there as an icebreaker with clients, but too often consumed by the doctor himself. Well, that didn’t go well. I’m going to have to do some work on my own inner voices. Seriously though, just what would I tell such a client to do?
He snapped his fingers and smiled. “Why, I’d tell him to go for it, to call the woman up and ask her out, even if it was just for a coffee. To see how things went along . . . ”
It’s hard to be your own therapist, but in this instance, it had worked. Nate smiled. He’d answered his own question, and the only choice now was whether he should call or wait until he saw her in person. Umm, although face-to-face rejection would be harder to take, in person is probably better because that way I’ll be able to read her reaction . . .
• • •
In Sleeping Beauty’s hospital room all was quiet. The woman who sat with her waited but not patiently. Time was running out, and if she had to leave without solving this problem, then the girl might never wake up from the sleep-like coma she was clinging to. And that would be such a waste of the beautiful life that was waiting for her.
“There has to be a way. I know that Noelia is the key, but how do I get her to see what Lydia can’t tell anyone? I need a miracle, that’s a fact.” No one was there to hear the woman’s words.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor, the soft squishing sound of nurses’ shoes. Someone was coming to check on Lydia, so it was time for her to take a break.
Chapter Six
Noelia had had a sleepless night, haunted by dreams of the woman who was shouting at her, a kind of silent screaming. She arrived just before the opening hours of the store and was grateful that, as always, walking into Wedding Bliss cheered her up, with the delicate wedding paraphernalia, brightly colored posters, pretty antique furnishings. She hated to admit it, but Mary Atwell had been right about the need to update Wedding Bliss a little. With the changes Kelly had suggested and the new paint job, the makeover made the place more inviting to customers and stimulating to those who spent the whole day there.
In fact, that change was so dramatic and yet soothing, Noelia was beginning to visualize decorating updates she could make in her small house. “I can’t believe it’s been years since I painted the living room,” she said to the antique cash register. An odd hollow feeling lodged in her stomach as the next thought took form. Heavens, I haven’t painted the living room—or updated the kitchen—since Andre died. Have I been keeping the place like it was when we decorated it together, just to try to hold onto him a little longer?
Thank goodness it was Sasha’s day off and there were no customers in the store to see the tears that welled up in her eyes as she thought of her husband and the dreams they’d had, which had all come to nothing in the heavy sea that long-ago spring night.
It’s time I let go of you, my dearest, isn’t it? Sometimes a soft, warm feeling, little more than a movement of the air, seemed to brush her arm when she thought of her husband, and she fancied she could feel Andre standing by her side, his presence always so comforting.
But now she was lonely, had been lonely for a long time without actually realizing it. Maybe it is time to let me go, a voice that sounded like Andre’s whispered in her head. She shivered violently, wrapping her arms around her breasts as if she could protect her grieving heart. And she knew that little voice was right, whether it was her own mind telling her the truth, or whether it really was her long-lost love telling her what she needed to know. Oh, she’d never forget her husband, the father of her children, but she needed to get back into life before it was too late.
She was so shaken by this epiphany that when the telephone on the counter jangled loudly, she was reluctant to answer it until her sense of responsibility kicked in and made her pick up the receiver.
“Noelia, I am so, so sorry—can you hold the fort a while longer? I’ve got an appointment I need to keep.” Kelly sounded harassed.
Noelia took a deep breath and tried to push the tears out of her voice. “Of course, Kelly. No problem. Things seem to be quiet here, anyway.”
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
“You sure will—lunch is on you.” She could hear Kelly’s soft laughter as she put the phone down.
She’d only just replaced the receiver when the phone rang again. “Noelia!” Mary Atwell sounded as though talking to Noelia was the most exciting thing that had happened to her all week. Noelia winced. What was Kelly’s aunt-in-law up to now? Last time she’d wanted to just chat, they’d ended up redecorating the whole store.
“I’m so glad I caught you. Troy and I are having a little last-minute casual soiree this evening, and we’d love you to be there. Kelly and Sasha are coming, too.” She added this last bit as if afraid Noelia wouldn’t show up without knowing there would be friendly faces there. How right she was!
“That would be lovely, Mary . . . but I have to do a stint as a volunteer at the hospital tonight.” Yes! A legitimate way out!
“Oh, I know it’s short notice, so I planned that we would eat about eight. Your volunteer shift will be over by then, won’t it? And might I say how lovely it is of you to give up your time for such a good cause?”
Noelia sighed. She’d forgotten Mary was on the hospital board and knew about these things. Darn it!
“And a nice get-together with friends is a lovely way to spend an evening, even better than a long bath and an early night with a book.” Had Mary Atwell read her thoughts? She had a sudden image of the older woman sitting in her little Victorian writing room, gazing into the antique crystal ball she kept on the table beside her favorite chair, to divine what her various victims, er, friends were doing . . .
What else could Noelia do? It would be terribly rude to turn Mary down, especially as then she risked the third-degree as to what her other plans might be. And, apart from a nice, long relaxing bath and a good book, she didn’t have any. She knew Mary wouldn’t take that as a good excuse to miss her “casual little soiree.” With as good a grace as she could muster, she told Mary she’d be at the Atwell mansion in Bar Harbor for dinner.
Just then Kelly walked in, bearing a white cardboard box from the local bakery.
“Just a little bribe because I’ve been so neglectful of you lately,” she said, hugging her friend. “Unfortunately, I need to go out again for a couple of hours, so I’m hoping a Boston Cream—or two—will stop you from hating me too much?”
“Umm, well, maybe I’ll forgive you if that box contains double chocolate donuts as well . . . ” Noelia popped the lid up to see assorted pastries, including her favorites, nestled there. “I think you may have saved my life—or at least, my sanity.”
Kelly frowned. “What’s up? No problems in the store? You’re feeling okay, aren’t you?”
Chewing on a donut, Noelia spoke through a mouthful of sinfully delicious chocolate pastry. “I was feeling just fine until a few moments ago. Mary called.”
“Oh, please tell me she hasn’t found anything else in our lives that she wants to reorganize? Dealing with her plans for my store was hard enough work.”
“But it did work out well, didn’t it? Anyway, it seems it’s my life she’s wants to sort out now. She’s having a ‘little casual soiree’ tonight.” Noelia mimicked Mary’s aristocratic tone.
“Ha, I see. It’s last-minute to cut off any chance of you coming up with a good excuse not to be there . . . and she’s trying to rope you in for a meeting with some eligible—by Mary’s standards—bachelor, is she?”
“It’s okay for you to grin, but you’re invited. Sasha, too! It’s a command performance. You know as well as I do that that woman won’t rest until she’s got every available woman in town married off. Just because she’s reunited with the love of her life, she thinks we’re all longing to hear wedding bells. I just know she’s got a line-up of eligible fifty-something men to parade me in front of. Oh, lord.” Noelia put her hands over her eyes. “Think of something to get me out of this, quick!”
Kelly bit into a jam donut and grabbed a napkin to catch the filling that oozed out and was heading for the front of her silky beige blouse. “Sorry, hon. There’s no way that anyone can save you from this. Just go, eat lots of nice things, have a glass of wine, and claim a headache to escape.”
The silver bells above the door jangled as Sasha arrived for her afternoon shift at the store. Seeing the looks on Noelia’s and Kelly’s faces, she asked, “Whatever’s the matter? You both look so gloomy.”
“Actually, I was just thinking that Kelly is looking great—don’t tell me having your husband away is actually good for you?” Noelia told her.
“Yes, Noelia is right, Kelly. Not h
aving a romantic fling while Brett’s in far-off Africa, are you?” Sasha teased.
Kelly blushed the deepest red a woman with auburn hair could muster. “No, no, don’t be . . . ” she stammered. “Don’t be silly. I guess I’m just getting more sleep than usual, that’s all.”
“Oooh, ooh—we don’t need details!” Sasha and Noelia chorused.
“And you needn’t look so perky, Sasha—you’re on the hit list, too!”
Sasha dropped the pretty lace and pearl necklace she’d been admiring and shot a guilty glance over at Noelia.
“Don’t tell me I’m in trouble again! I did tell you I had a dentist’s appointment . . . ”
Noelia gave her a wicked grin. “No, dear. I do remember you had an appointment. And you have another. Mary is up to her . . . marriage-arranger tricks again. She’s having a ‘casual little soiree’ tonight, and she’s expecting all three of us to be there. She’s already got Brett and Kelly to the altar. But I bet she has special plans for me—and I’m sure she has a little something in a suit and tie waiting for you, too.”
“I haven’t heard a word from her,” Sasha said. “Maybe I’ve dodged Mary’s version of Cupid’s arrow this time.”
“Not so fast, sister-in-law!” Kelly said. “Is your phone turned on?”
“Oh, no. I turned it off while I was at the dentist’s and forgot to turn it back on.” “
“Umm, clever excuse, but not one that will work with your Aunt Mary.” Noelia and Kelly exchanged wicked smiles.
Sasha turned on her phone and immediately the screen filled with missed call and text message notifications. Sasha grimaced. “Looks like I’m a victim, too, Noelia. Maybe we can defend each other. Have I ever told you I sometimes have this awful dream? I’m at one of Mary’s events and I’m chatting politely to one of the guys, and suddenly Mary is there with a minister and the wedding march is playing . . . and no one can hear me scream.”
The Sleeping Beauty Bride Page 5