Christmas at Mistletoe Lodge: New Holiday Romances to Benefit St. Jude Hospital
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“Friday afternoon, with any luck. The showing is tomorrow, but I need to meet with the gallery and my agent tonight for dinner and drinks. I appreciate you letting me drop him off here.”
“Brianna will watch him. It will do him good to get used to it here anyway. It’s part of the training, being around other dogs and staying calm.”
“Good luck with that,” she said, then took a deep breath, knowing it was time to go. “I’ll call and check on him.”
“You’re not going to call and check on me?” he asked, tweaking her hair. She had it down for the moment, which she didn’t often do, but she had to get ready for tonight, and didn’t want to wash and dry the long locks again in the hotel.
“I’ll check on you too, but I know you’ll be just fine.”
Too bad she wasn’t fine later that night when she was meeting with her agent. He had her nerves on end when they never were in her other career. Not as a kid on her first shoot. Not as an adult on a go-see for potential jobs.
But this meant more to her. This was her first showing. This one was going to be the start of her future. If it went well, she’d be in demand. If it flopped, she could be talked about as the woman who failed.
Failure was something she never wanted. She’d experienced it before and didn’t like the feeling. It hurt too much. More so when the heart was involved. Or when she was played like a fool. Never again.
“This is amazing. I wonder who the talent is behind these pictures.”
Noelle turned and looked at Emma who’d spoken those words minutes before the doors were going to be opened. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
She pulled her in for a hug. The two of them made quite a picture standing there in high-end black gowns and perfectly styled hair and makeup.
“I wanted it to be a surprise. It’s not like we’ve talked much in the past few weeks.”
“You’ve been in France,” Noelle pointed out.
“Very true. The time difference sucks, not to mention the long photo shoots. As much as I love it, I do hate standing in the rain on a cold day and pretending like it’s a dream come true for someone to buy whatever I was selling.”
“But you’re so convincing,” Noelle said, grinning.
“You taught me everything I know.”
Noelle put her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “You’re a natural and taught me plenty.”
“Very true. We know how wonderful I am.”
“You’re just what I need right now, Emma. I’m terrified. Why am I terrified? It was so bad that I saw this historic inn right when I left town and literally pulled down the driveway and grabbed my camera to start snapping pictures. Anything to get out of the car that I’d just gotten into. I never realized it was there before and for some reason I turned my head and caught a glimpse of it in the distance.”
“Did it relax you?” Emma asked
“Yes and now I’m terrified again. Why?”
“I have no clue because you’re brilliant. Really, you are.”
“Thanks. Say it one more time before they open the doors.”
“You’re brilliant, Noelle. Let’s go knock them dead and fill up that bank account of yours. Then we can take a trip somewhere and celebrate.”
“You bought a dog,” Emma said hours later, the two of them in the hotel room with a bottle of champagne in a bucket, their four-inch heels on the floor and their dresses hiked up so they could sit more comfortably. No reason to go to the bar and be hit on. Neither of them was interested.
“Adopted a dog. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever,” Emma said. “Let me see a picture of him.”
Noelle pulled her phone out and brought up multiple pictures of her playful pup. “Okay, seriously adorable. Whoa, talk about seriously something...who’s the hunk rolling around on the ground with your pup? And what’s his name?”
“His name is Calvin.”
“The hottie or the pup?”
She laughed. “The pup is Calvin. First dog, first contract.”
“Cute. I like the thought behind that. Now let’s talk about the other male in the picture. Name, occupation, and current dating status.”
“Chase Martin. Dr. Chase Martin. He’s Calvin’s vet. And he runs the shelter that I adopted Calvin at.”
“The shelter that I told you to go volunteer your services at? You should thank me. Or better yet, introduce me to him.”
“Fine, it was your idea. And no, I’m not introducing you so you can steal him away.”
“I’d never steal your man. I’ve never stolen anyone’s man, even though the tabloids say differently.”
“You need to take a page from my book and say you’re a lesbian,” Noelle said.
Emma downed her champagne and then grabbed the bottle and filled both of their glasses back up. “That only worked for a year.”
“True, and not everyone believed it either.”
She’d gotten sick of being hit on when she was a teen and hinted that she was into women. The problem with that was, the women that were gay knew she wasn’t and made a point of letting everyone know.
“So what’s your deal with Dr. Martin?”
“Chase. I don’t call him doctor. I’m not sure anyone does.” Though she had heard it from Brianna. Brianna who was always flirting with him.
It never bothered her before when she was dating someone and another woman flirted with them, so why now? Probably because she had no idea what was holding Chase back. Especially when Brianna made a comment last week: “You’ve lasted longer than anyone else. You should consider yourself lucky. Most get sick of his commitment here and putting his practice first. This place is his life. I understand that, but very few do.”
“Okay, so what’s the deal with Chase?” Emma asked her.
“I wish I knew.” She picked up her glass and drank half of what Emma had filled. “We’ve been dating for weeks and done nothing but kiss.”
“Do you think he has a problem? You know.” Emma lifted her finger straight up, then pointed it down.
Noelle laughed. “I don’t think so.” She’d felt it next to her hip a few times.
“Maybe he’s a virgin? Could you imagine that? Nah, he seems too hot for that.”
“I doubt it. We haven’t really had too many conversations about exes or our past. We just spend our time talking about the present more than anything.”
“So he doesn’t know who you are?” Emma asked, her eyes going wide like she was posing for a shot where a gangster just opened the door unannounced with a massive machine gun pointed at the damsel in distress.
“He knows. I think that’s the problem. He’s probably read all sorts of lies about me.”
“Then you need to talk to him about it.”
“I know. But how do I bring that up? I just want him to see me, not who I used to be.”
Emma snorted. “It’s still you and you know it. You can’t wipe away what took up so much of your life just because you don’t want to be that person anymore. Noelle, you’ve never had a problem being direct with anyone ever before. Why now?”
“Because it means something now.”
“Just like your showing tonight, and look at how successful that was.”
“This is different. This isn’t something that’s for sale.”
“No,” Emma said. “It’s something that could be lost. That makes it worth so much more.”
“I know. I’m so stressed over it.”
“Stop at the inn again on your way home,” Emma said. “Calm yourself and remember why you photograph like you do. Why you find something and see the beauty in it and make the rest of us see that too.”
“You always know the right words to say. Did I tell you the name of the place? Mistletoe Inn. Talk about romantic.”
“Maybe it will give you inspiration to jump Chase’s bones,” Emma said, winking at her.
“Maybe it will!”
12
The Flawed One<
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Chase was trying to work, but trying and succeeding were two completely different things, he was realizing.
It all went back to his conversation with Tricia weeks ago, how what he wanted, and what he got didn’t always mesh.
He wanted a relationship and had ideas in his head how it should be, but it never worked out that way, making him wonder if he was the flawed one. If he was the one that no one could put up with.
That he was better off being with his animals more than a human because no matter how hard he tried, he always messed up.
“Settled down, Molly,” he said gently to the ten-year-old cat on his table. If he thought his sister’s poodles were high maintenance, some cats gave the reigning queen’s titles a new name.
“Is she going to be okay?” Molly’s owner asked.
“I’m sure. Cats tend to develop digestive problems because they’re always licking themselves and swallowing fur. Hence, the furballs she’s coughing up.”
“What can I do to make it stop?”
“You can groom your cat more, trying to get rid of her shedding hair. Change over her food to one that is easier on her digestive track. Brianna can give you a sample of a few we have here to try before you make the change. Maybe put a little bit of tuna oil over her food to help grease her digestive tract, so if she does get furballs, they come out the other end.”
Molly’s owner cringed, and he held back the laugh. He really wished people understood more about their pets and didn’t always expect the good and not the bad. That it wasn’t all about cuddles and companionship, but responsibility.
Once Molly was out of his exam room, he went back to his office to grab a quick snack before his next appointment in ten minutes. He also took that time to pull up an article on Noelle’s showing last night to see how she did.
He shouldn’t have. Not when his eyes bugged out of his head and he started to cough over his granola bar when he saw how much some of her pieces sold for. Holy shit again! Just two pieces were more than he made in a year, and she had twelve listed last night.
Not that he thought she needed any income based on the modeling career he’d read about.
Maybe that was part of the problem with them right now. Maybe she was just so far out of his league, not only in a social aspect, but an income one.
It’s not like he didn’t read a ton of things about her in the past few weeks. Though she told him not to believe everything he read, some of it had to be true since it was all over the place contradicting each other.
Let’s see, he’d read she was fragile—which he hadn’t seen a sign of once. She was a raging bitch, again, nothing to indicate that. A sweetheart, a pleasure to work with, a fighter, a heartbreaker, a do-gooder. Those things jived with what he knew.
Well, the heartbreaker didn’t. Not until he saw pictures of her with some of the men she supposedly had relationships with. He hoped they were supposed relationships, because...hey, nothing like making him feel any more inferior.
The last news on her with a man was two years ago. A model equally as attractive as her, but not as successful. The breakup was said to be horrific. He was wondering if it was the success part. If the man couldn’t handle her success, or she couldn’t handle him not being an equal?
He’d never been one of those men that had to be the sole supporter of a woman. He never cared to have a sugar mama either, nor did he think he’d be in a situation where that would even be a possibility.
The thing is, even though her wealth boggled his mind—and he was sure he didn’t have a clue to the real amount—he really wasn’t so much insecure as proud of her. Deep down, he was glad she was as successful as she was since she obviously earned it.
But was their lack of income equality an issue for her? He had no clue. And if it was, was she just using him as someone to pass the time with?
Then there was one other thing he read. That she was a lesbian. Since she was pretty much all over him when they were kissing, he was thinking that wasn’t the case.
Until last night when she called well after midnight sounding slightly drunk. The worst part was, she wasn’t alone. Nope, there was another woman in the room with her and they were both giggling up a storm.
“Noelle,” he’d said when he answered his phone, his voice a little husky from sleep. She didn’t need to know it was more likely that way because he was dreaming of her mouth all over him while they were in his bed.
“Hi, Chase,” she’d said, her voice a little higher than normal.
“Ask him,” he’d heard from the other woman in the room.
“Shhh, Emma.”
“Ask me what?” he’d said around a yawn.
There was some hesitation and finally, she asked, “How is Calvin doing?”
“Not that,” Emma had said in the background.
Chase ignored it and answered, “He’s doing good. Sleeping on the floor with Bruno.”
“Seriously? He’s not on your bed?”
“Snacks wouldn’t allow that, so Calvin is cuddling with Bruno in Bruno’s bed. Was there something else you wanted to ask me?”
“No. Just checking on Calvin.”
“Coward,” he’d heard in the background this time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chase. Tell Calvin I miss him.”
Then she hung up and he was seriously wondering what she wanted to ask him, keeping him up the rest of the night.
When he’d crawled out of bed the next morning and taken care of the dogs, he started to look online for anything in regards to Noelle and someone named Emma.
What he saw made his jaw drop like one of those cartoon characters...worse than when he saw what Noelle’s work sold for.
Emma Charleston, the next up-and-coming superstar, close friends with Noelle. Pictures of the two of them posing years ago when Noelle was in her prime. Emma had taken that top spot in Europe it seemed, then just signed on to be the newest Victoria Secret model.
The two were night and day, one dark haired, one light. Both had amazing blue eyes, just different shades and both were tall and leggy.
These were the people she associated with. These were her friends. Not some small town vet running a shelter for adopted dogs in his free time.
After lunch, when he walked up front to deliver a fussy Doberman, he noticed that Calvin was gone. “Did Noelle come in?”
“About twenty minutes ago. Where did she go this weekend?”
He didn’t want to let Brianna know too much. She could have looked up Noelle if she wanted to, but he was thinking she hadn’t, which was totally fine with him. He didn’t need that headache right now.
“She just had something to do with work in New York.”
“Okay. She said to tell you she’d talk to you later tonight.”
That was promising at least. Now he wondered if he could figure out what it was that she wanted to talk to him about. Or ask him. Yeah, that was what her friend said, “Ask him.”
Noelle had never been so embarrassed in her life and there were plenty of times in her life when embarrassment was pushed to the back of her brain or it would have been crippling.
Like when she was modeling covered only in paints that were melting off. Airbrushing helped, but not during the process when others could see body parts she was hoping they didn’t.
Or when she was hanging upside down and had invisible cables cutting into parts of her body that had no business being there, while she tried to pretend it was natural for someone to have blood rushing to their head while being tethered off a building and trying to look elegant at the same time.
She couldn’t forget the first time she walked a runway in six-inch heels and bit it hard but popped back up like it was all planned, brushing it off and even taking a bow.
But last night pretty much took the cake.
There she was, drunker than she’d been in her life, since she’d always been careful of her alcohol intake, knowing that it was easy to be taken advantage of or not remember thing
s in that state. Or fearful of hidden cameras showing her behavior and risking a contract.
It was too hard to resist the champagne last night when Emma was pouring and it was just the two of them alone in the hotel room. No witnesses. Just two friends living it up.
And when Emma urged her to check on her man—her puppy—she gave in way too easily, then wished she didn’t when she heard Chase’s sleep infused voice lighting her body up and reminding her how long it’d been since she’d felt any man’s hands on her.
But that wasn’t even the worst of it.
Nope, her parents ended up knocking on her door at nine in the morning and pulling her out of bed with a headache—no, hangover—she’d never experienced before.
She’d overslept and completely forgotten she was going to meet them for breakfast. They came to her gallery showing like she knew they would, like they always supported her in life, and then wanted to celebrate with her for breakfast before she drove the few hours back home.
“Noelle, since when do you oversleep?” Her mother paused and lifted an eyebrow. “Or get drunk?”
“I was celebrating with Emma last night,” she said, opening the door wider.
“So we see,” her father said, looking around at the two empty bottles of champagne. “You have every reason to celebrate, not that we didn’t expect such a success to happen last night.”
“I wasn’t so sure,” Noelle said, “but I’m glad you guys had all the faith in the world.”
Her mother reached in and hugged her. “Why don’t you go take a shower, get cleaned up and meet us in the hotel restaurant for a quick breakfast, then I’ll let you get on the road to get to that new puppy of yours.”
She wanted to tell her parents she was anxious to see more than her puppy, but since she had no clue where her and Chase’s relationship was going or could end up, she didn’t bother to mention a word of it, too fearful she’d jinx a good thing that she’d never thought she’d get.
Instead she’d done what Emma suggested and stopped at Mistletoe Inn before she drove home. She pulled her camera out, she looked around at the woods surrounding the beauty of the old structure and she started to bring it to life through her photography.