Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge: New Holiday Romances to Benefit St. Jude Hospital
Page 36
Noelle fought the eye roll. She’d been modeling since she was five. Ten years now and nothing ever changed. No, that was wrong. Things had changed...for the worse at times.
Now she wasn’t the little girl on the set whose mother watched every move. Now she was a teen that looked like she was twenty and was often treated as such.
Her mother was still on set all the time, just not as laser-focused on every little move. Or if her mother was, she was brushing them off as “part of the business.” Either that or she was giving Noelle space to figure things out on her own. Didn’t matter because people like Lyle were nothing more than a means to an end.
“How much longer, Lyle? I feel like I’m going to sneeze,” she said, her voice firm, direct, but not nasty, not condescending. She’d mastered the tone of confidence without coming across as bitchy. Bees and honey, her mother often reminded her.
“Don’t talk!” Lyle shouted at her as the camera continued to flicker.
She brushed off the words and did what she was told, just like always. She had thick skin, so it didn’t matter much. Most didn’t last as many years as she had already, and she was in her prime right now. Others put up with anything to get their name in flashing lights.
All she had to do was be born with the palest blues eyes imaginable, a dose of freckles across her nose and long black hair. It didn’t hurt she was five foot ten and willowy either. Sadly, most of the other models hated her because she’d often be found eating between takes while they felt they couldn’t.
Genetically, she was blessed. But this wasn’t what she wanted to do forever. It was a short-term thing and she was smart enough to realize that.
Five more years tops, that was all she planned, if she even made it that long. Someone younger, prettier, skinnier would come along and bump her and she’d be fine with it while she was laughing her way to the bank. At just fifteen she’d already had three major modeling contracts for big-name fashion designers.
“Lift your shirt a little and expose your belly for me. Wrap that mink around you tight.” She sighed and did as she was instructed, then promptly sneezed. “Again. Sneeze again. Magic, I’m telling you, magic!”
Like she could force herself to sneeze and almost told him that, but it so happened she did sneeze again, and then three more times. By the time she was done she was laughing so hard and figured Lyle was going to rip her a new one.
“Done. It’s a masterpiece, Noelle, my darling,” he said walking over to her. He offered her a hand to pull her up from the bench she was sitting on while she twisted and turned just like Lyle told her to all while an industrial fan was blowing on her. “You’re the best. So easy to work with.”
This time she did roll her eyes. A few minutes ago he was telling her to shut up. “You say that to everyone. I heard you telling Monique that two hours ago.”
“No one is as great as you, even if I do tell the other girls.”
He trailed his fingers down her arms and then up her back again, causing shivers she hated feeling so much. What she really wanted to do was put her fist in his stomach, but didn’t need to bother when her mother appeared and said, “Lyle, is there a reason your hands are on Noelle? A fifteen-year-old when you’re what? Fifty, fifty-one?”
“Forty-one. And I’m just brushing her hair off her shoulders,” Lyle lied.
Her mother huffed and said, “Let’s go, Noelle. This might be the last time we come back here.”
“You’re nothing but a bitch,” Lyle said to her mother. “It amazes me that Noelle is such a sweetheart when birthed by you.”
Noelle didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. The Lyles of the world believed what they wanted and preyed on the young while trying to make a name for themselves.
Her mother laughed, because if anyone had a steel rod stuck up her butt when the time called for it, it was Elizabeth Bennett, Esq. One that facilitated many modeling contracts for big time advertisers and runway shows in New York City.
“What a jerk,” Noelle said to her mother when they were in the elevator. “Why didn’t you defend yourself back there?”
“Because sometimes in life it’s not the words, but the actions. Just remember that.”
“What are you going to do?” Noelle asked.
“I’m not going to do anything. It’s what you’re going to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“You keep doing what you are, behaving the way you are, and being yourself and you’ll see that you won’t have to deal with the Lyles of the world much longer.”
“If you say so,” Noelle said.
“I know so.” Her mother stopped and turned to her. “Do you hate it? Do you want to stop? We’ve asked you before and you always say you enjoy modeling.”
“I do. I appreciate that you always want to know, even if you ask me nonstop. But the truth is, I want to build up as much money as I can now. Then in a few years when everyone else is working their butt off, I can just do what I want in life and have no worries.”
Her mother laughed again, this time a funny sound. “I hope you have that someday, Noelle. Just remember, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you and modeling is temporary.”
“Which is why it doesn’t bother me. Really, it doesn’t, Mom. I can deal with creeps like Lyle. Dad taught me well.”
Her mother smirked. “You haven’t had to use any of it though.”
Her father was a black belt karate and mixed martial arts instructor and worked with a lot of stuntmen in New York and Hollywood. “Nope. But like you said, actions are better than words.”
“What have you been doing, Noelle?” her mother asked, crossing her arms and smiling, even narrowing her eyes a touch. She’d like to think she’d gotten her personality and confidence from her mother. Her looks and body came from her father.
“I haven’t laid a hand on anyone,” she said. In between takes she always meditated and practiced her moves. Many saw her and thought she was weird, but it was keeping the sleazeballs at bay too.
“For your sake, I hope you never have to use any of those moves.”
“I’ve got it covered, Mom. No need to worry about me.”
2
Individual Attention
Thirteen Years Later
“Noelle, how’s life in the woods?”
“Boring,” Noelle said into the phone. She was sitting around listening to the birds in her backyard. A year ago she couldn’t wait to start her new life. To stop rushing all over the world. To stop being in front of the camera and doing what she was told.
Being someone she never really was.
It was her time now. Time to do what she wanted, be the person she was without having to follow directions from others.
Sure, the money was great. Yep, she did it longer than she’d ever thought she would, but who would have known her name would get out there like it had?
Her mother did, that’s who.
By the time Noelle was twenty, she was the hot commodity in Europe where she’d spent the past several years. Prior to that, she traveled between the US and Europe, but she was in high demand for fashion shows and it kept her away from the individual attention of the cameras that she’d dealt with so much as a teen.
Did she still get a lot of photo shoots? She did, but most were for European companies later in her career, which made it easier for her to retire and move back to the US with no one really being the wiser unless they were connected to the fashion world.
Bennington, Vermont, was pretty far detached from that.
“You couldn’t wait to stop modeling and start snapping pictures and now you say it’s boring,” Emma said back, laughing in the way Noelle hated so much. One of those “I know you’re lying, but I’m going to let you save face anyway.” The sound Emma made when they were on the circuit together for years and the other models would shoot daggers at the two of them. It drew them together, creating a unique bond that made them fast friends.
Emma was still working the runway
, but then again, Emma was only twenty-three, while at twenty-eight, Noelle was ready to be done with the fresh faces not only pushing her out of the way but ready to claw her eyes out beforehand. She was over the catfights and vindictiveness.
“Who would have known what I wanted so desperately would make me want to climb the walls?”
“You’re only a few hours from New York so take a drive and get some work,” Emma said.
“I don’t want the work. I don’t need it either.”
Nothing would make her go back to modeling. She’d had her fill and was ready to be done a year ago. If one more man grabbed her ass, she’d break every one of his fingers. She’d done it once and wasn’t afraid to again.
Either way, she knew it was time.
“I didn’t mean modeling. I meant photography. There are plenty of agencies that are looking for photographers. With your background and knowledge, my guess is anyone would hire you on the spot.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know if I want to do that either,” Noelle argued.
“You’ve never been so wishy washy before. Why now?”
“Damned if I know. I enjoyed helping those aspiring models with their portfolios, but there isn’t that much reward in it either.”
She wanted to feel like she was accomplishing something, but watching young girls go into the world of fashion so naive was only accomplishing one thing. Heartburn.
“Go back to traveling then,” Emma said. “Your gallery showing is in a few weeks, then you’ll have a better idea of your next direction.”
“I know. Maybe that’s the problem.”
She’d wanted to say she’d changed career directions too fast, but the truth was, she’d been taking pictures since she was a teen. A few of the right people saw her work back then, told her she had a great eye, and should focus on that in her future.
She listened to those people.
This time she was taking photos of scenery, structures, and people. Not models, but of life. Letting destinations be felt through the eye of the beholder. Or helping others feel what she did when she was standing in those places.
“You’re not worried about it, are you? Get real, Noelle. You had that gallery breathing down your neck after they saw a few of your photos. It’s going to be huge.”
“We’ll see. I should just take the next few weeks and chill out, then recharge like I said I was going to. Like I always wanted to do. Who knew that I’d be bored already.”
She looked out into the woods of her backyard at the blue jays flying around. They sure were pretty.
“You’ve spent too much of your life never sitting still. You thought you wanted it and now you don’t. You know what you need right now?”
“No, what?” Noelle asked.
“A man.”
She snorted. “No, thank you. I’ve had plenty of them to cool me off for years.”
“Please,” Emma said. “You haven’t had a man in over a year. At least a steady one. Not unless you’re finding some booty calls. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you were, but at least share some details with me.”
Noelle laughed. “No man, and no booty calls.”
Emma had always been good for her. Though she was younger, she wasn’t immature at all. Modeling all over the world tended to mature you in a hurry. Emma didn’t have Noelle’s years of experience, but she moved up the circuit fast, having to grow up even quicker.
“There’s got to be a lumberjack around or something for you. I doubt anyone knows who you really are there. Has anyone figured it out? You’ve been there about six months, right?”
“Almost six months. No, no one knows who I am. In the six months I’ve owned this house, I’ve traveled a bit too. The only people I see are when I’m in town shopping.”
“Is there anywhere to shop there?” Emma asked, some wonder in her voice.
“Nothing like we’re used to.”
“Which is what you wanted,” Emma said.
“True. I don’t know what my problem is.”
“Too much change too soon. It’s nothing more than that. Get a dog,” Emma suggested.
“I don’t need a dog. Nor do I want a dog. I’m still going to travel now and again, what would I do with one?”
“Doggie daycare. Kennels. Get one of those little foofoo ones that go in your purse, then you can bring it with you everywhere.”
“If I ever got a dog, it wouldn’t be something I could carry in one hand.” She frowned, then shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. I don’t need a dog when I hear barking all the time lately.”
“Where?” Emma asked. “You said you’re pretty secluded.”
“Not as much as you think. I mean it really is, compared to living in flats in the city, but there are other houses on my street. I’ve got about two acres of land and most of it is wooded, but I pass houses getting here, and there are some further down the road or behind me through the woods. I have no idea where the barking is coming from and it’s not all the time, but often enough.”
“Do you hear it now?” Emma asked.
“No. Normally after six at night or early in the morning. Sometimes around lunchtime. Probably someone coming and going from work. Not a big deal.”
“Then why bring it up?” Emma asked.
Beats the hell out of me. “Just something to talk about.”
“Well, if you don’t want to find a man, and you don’t want a dog, then use your photography for something good in the community. You’ve always found time to give back before. Find a business that could use it and help them out.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Since you brought up a dog, there’s a shelter attached to a veterinarian’s office on the outskirts of town. Maybe they wouldn’t mind some nicer pictures of the animals up for adoption.”
“There you go,” Emma said. “Get a dog fix without getting a dog.”
“And a dog doesn’t talk back or give attitude like people do.”
Emma burst out laughing. “You’ve never owned a dog then.”
No, she hadn’t. Her parents’ lives were too busy, then throw in Noelle’s modeling career, and there was no place for a pet in her life growing up.
“Dogs still can’t talk back to you, so it’s got to be better.”
“Give it a go and let me know what you figure out. I’ve got to run now though. I’ll check back in a few days.”
“Talk to you soon,” Noelle said, disconnecting the call and looking out into the woods some more. It wasn’t quite September yet, but fall was in full bloom. The weather was beautiful and peaceful and she decided maybe it would be a good time to take a walk and try to lose some of herself like she’d said.
3
Trying to Blend In
“Can I help you?” a young woman asked when Noelle pushed open the door to the vet’s office. She tried not to wrinkle her nose over the smell and reminded herself that lemons were better than the alternative.
She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the modern office with the young girl sitting there sporting a huge smile wasn’t it. When she heard clicking, she turned her head to see a dog the size of a small horse come trotting into the waiting room.
“I’ll let you take care of him first,” she said, stepping back and giving him wide berth.
The young receptionist started talking to the dog in a childlike voice, saying, “Duke, did you do good today? Do you deserve a treat?” If her voice was a little too high pitched, the dog didn’t seem to notice as a treat was placed in his mouth. The receptionist didn’t even seem to mind that her hand was covered with slobber when she pulled it away.
What was she doing here? Damn Emma for putting this idea in her head.
“Now, what can I help you with?” the overly cheerful receptionist said to her.
“I just moved to this area. I’m a photographer and was wondering if the shelter was in need of photos to help with the adoption process. Pro bono. I’m just looking for something to do in my spare
time.”
She was guessing the receptionist didn’t know what pro bono meant when she replied, “Dr. Martin is the person you need to speak with and does all the hiring. He runs the shelter too. You’re in luck because we had a cancellation this morning and he’s currently in his office. Can I have your name and I’ll just go back and let him know.”
“Noelle Bennett,” she said, hoping no one recognized it. Then she wondered why she was thinking that when no one recognized her face, so they sure the heck wouldn’t know her full name. Hell, most didn’t know her by anything other than Noelle.
Of course, since she’d moved here she hadn’t worn anything remotely in fashion, trying to blend in like everyone else.
“Why don’t you have a seat then.”
She turned and sat down to wait, but didn’t have long. When the receptionist returned, she wasn’t alone, though Noelle hadn’t heard any other footsteps. Surprising too, since the man that was following behind had a good half a foot on her own five foot ten inches. She guessed he probably had eighty pounds on her too.
“Noelle,” he said, reaching his hand out for hers. “I’m Chase Martin.”
She stood up and took it, marveling at how soft it was...the complete opposite of his voice. She wondered if that ever scared the animals. Probably not, but she found it pretty darn sexy. Most men she’d been around in her life didn’t have deep voices. No one other than her father.
“Hi,” she said, liking that he didn’t add doctor in front of his name. Of course, did vets do that? They were considered doctors, right? Not real doctors, but still had that title.
“I’m not sure if”—she turned, realizing she didn’t know the name of the receptionist— “told you the reason I’m here.”
“Brianna did. She said you’re looking to take pictures of the animals in the shelter to help with the adoption process.”
“Yes. I’d like to volunteer my services. I’m new to the area and thought it might be a good way to give back.”