When he noticed a waitress headed for their table, he bit back a groan. He’d forgotten that Lucy Wilson’s parents owned the diner, and apparently she still helped out there. She looked less than pleased to see him, and he felt himself begin to stiffen reflexively, bracing for an unpleasant end to his happy afternoon. Then, out of nowhere, he heard himself say, “Hey, Lucy. How are you doing?”
Apparently, she suspected his friendly greeting was some kind of trick because her eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
“Great.” She didn’t ask about him, but he pushed aside the annoyance and decided he’d done the best he could for now. “Before anyone else says otherwise, I’ll take the check.”
The men in the group protested but not very loudly. Julia smiled her approval, which was all the reward he needed. “That’s very generous, Nick. Thank you.”
“It’s the least he can do,” Ben mumbled through a mouthful of cornbread. “He hasn’t paid since graduation night.”
The entire table fell silent. Everyone there knew he hadn’t been around to pick up tabs for meals, and some even knew what had kept him away for so long. Nick held his breath, waiting for someone to point out how selfish he’d been.
“We’ll just have to punish him then,” Julia announced, opening her menu to the seafood section. “I love their lobster bisque.”
Laughing, everyone joked about ordering the most expensive items on the menu. Which, to be honest, would still make this the cheapest meal he’d bought for a group this size since he was in high school.
Beneath the table, he squeezed Julia’s hand and leaned in to whisper his thanks.
Returning the gesture, she answered with an amazing smile that warmed him right down to his toes. If they weren’t in public, he’d have been far too tempted to kiss her on the spot. When Lucy left after taking everyone’s orders, he said to Julia, “I have a confession to make.”
Stacking her elegant hands together, she rested her cheek on them and angled to face him. “Really? What’s that?”
“I’m not done with the childhood section of your biography. The intro was no big deal, but this one’s more complex, and I’d like your okay before I post it. I meant to have it to you by now, but my pest of a little sister hijacked me to go sledding.”
Julia laughed, bringing to mind the jingle bells on the bracelet she had been wearing the first day he met her. “I’m so glad she did.”
“Me, too.” He smiled before going on. “But I still have to finish up. I was thinking, if I worked at your place, you could review the earlier part while I do the end. It’d save me some time if you don’t mind doing it in pieces.”
“That’s fine with me, but don’t you need your computer?”
Nick broke a breadstick and offered her half. “I store everything online, so I can access it from anywhere.”
“Very clever. Okay, we can head over together after we eat. Besides, I still owe you some hot cocoa. Mom just sent me a Swiss chocolate mix, and I haven’t had a chance to try it yet. You can be my guinea pig.”
“Gladly.”
Before long, their food arrived, and everyone demolished their meal in record time. As the others said goodbye and got ready to leave, Nick went to the counter to settle up. He charged the food, but he wanted to do something nice for Lucy, to prove he wasn’t the jerk she remembered from high school.
Reaching into his wallet, he took out two twenties and handed them to her. For lack of anything better, he said, “Merry Christmas.”
“Right. You want change from this, I’m sure.”
“No, it’s yours. There were a bunch of us, and we were kinda rowdy. I appreciate you taking such good care of us.”
“I… You… You’re welcome,” she stammered. And for the first time he could recall, she smiled at him. “Merry Christmas.”
If that wasn’t reward enough, when he glanced around for Julia, he found her standing near the door and wearing one of her gorgeous smiles. As he approached, he made a show of looking around. “Is that smile for me?”
“Yes.” He opened the door, and she glided through. “I think you made Lucy’s day.”
Ordinarily he’d have brushed it off, but this time he accepted the compliment. “In case you missed it, I don’t have the best rep around town. I figured it’s time to do something about that.”
“Why now?” she asked as they strolled up the sidewalk.
He actually wasn’t certain, but he came up with something reasonable. “It’ll be better for the kids that way.”
“So it doesn’t matter to you what the people in town think of you, one way or the other?”
“Not really.”
She didn’t react to that, and he wondered if his attitude had upset her. That’s what he got for being honest, he complained silently. To his surprise, she finally said, “Good for you. Bree’s like that, too, and I wish I had a little of that confidence.”
“Nah,” he replied, pulling open the gilded door of Toyland. “Nice is more your style.”
That made her laugh, and several heads turned when they walked in. She checked in with her two clerks, then told them, “Nick and I have some work to do upstairs. If you need anything, just come get me.”
As they headed up, he admired her for announcing that so openly. Then again, if she blithely trotted up to her apartment with him in tow with no explanation at all, tongues would wag for hours. This way, anyone with nothing better to do would spread the news and move on to something more interesting.
Shakespeare was asleep on his perch, so there was no poetic greeting. More than a little disappointed, Nick took his coat off and hung it on the railing, then gestured downstairs with a tilt of his head. “I’m impressed. You’re really getting the hang of living in this fishbowl.”
“People talk about me even when I don’t do anything,” she explained in a resigned tone. “At least now they have a reason.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
They both laughed, and she told him, “My laptop’s in the spare room, so you can unplug it and bring it out here. I’ll get started on the cocoa.”
While she was gone, Nick retrieved the computer and set himself up on the sofa. By the time she brought their drinks in, he’d pulled up her bio and was skimming it for obvious problems. The rich scent of chocolate in his mug was outdone only by the creamy taste. “It’s like melted candy.”
“A good description.” Taking a sip, she closed her eyes with a sigh. “There’s nothing in the world like Swiss chocolate.”
“My chocolate usually comes from the rack at the supermarket, so I’ll have to take your word on that.” Handing over the laptop, he warned, “I never let anyone read a piece at this stage, but I think you’ll get the gist.”
The section wasn’t long, but the time he spent waiting for her to finish and give him an opinion felt like an eternity. Since he was at the top of the Kaleidscope food chain, Nick wasn’t used to seeking approval from anyone on what he published. That humble feeling he’d experienced earlier crept in again, and he made a mental note to be nicer to his freelancers. Except for Bree. She irritated him on purpose, and he couldn’t let her get away with that.
Fortunately, Julia was a quick reader. Looking over the screen, she smiled. “You’re an excellent writer. You have a brisk, efficient style, but you focus on all the right details to give the reader a clear picture of your subject.”
Her praise had a personal slant to it, and he couldn’t help returning the smile. “It helps to have a good topic to start with.”
Cradling her mug in her hands, she curled into a ball and angled to face him. “I know I’ve had an unusual life, and I appreciate you making my family seem as normal as possible. I hope that will continue when things get—”
She frowned, and he suggested, “Complicated?” When she nodded, he turned to look her directly in the eyes. “You’ve been through a lot, and I can’t change that. But I can promise not to make it worse.”
“Thank you.”
&nb
sp; The relief in her voice reminded him that she’d taken a huge risk in allowing someone she barely knew to write the story of her exceptional life. Nick wanted to make sure she never regretted her decision to trust him. “I’m gonna show them how you’ve moved on and made a great life for yourself, right here.”
“You make it sound like your personal mission,” she said gently. “Why do you care?”
“What that snake did to you…” Feeling his temper spike, he took a calming breath. “He took a lot more than your money. He humiliated you, and you pretty much went into hiding because of it. He stole this past year of your life from you, and you can’t ever get that back.”
“You sound angry.”
“I’m furious,” he corrected her with an intensity that almost frightened him. “Trust me, if I ever get a clue about where he is, that dirt bag will be under the nearest jail.”
“I think you watch too many detective shows,” she teased with a grateful smile. “But I appreciate the thought. It’s very sweet, in a dangerous kind of way.”
“Yeah, well, that’s the kinda guy I am.”
“I’m glad.”
She added a warm hug that felt so incredible, he wished he could figure out a way to make it go on longer. That meant it was time to leave, so he drew back and rested his forehead on hers with a sigh. “I should go finish this article, but I really don’t want to.”
“Hmm…” Those amazing eyes glanced up at the ceiling, then settled back on him with a playful gleam. “I could invite you to stay a while longer. I need some help with the holiday goodies people keep bringing me. I’ll never be able to eat them all myself before they get stale.”
Forget caution, he decided. He couldn’t turn down an invitation like that. “Yeah? What’ve you got?”
Laughing, she stood and headed for the kitchen. “Why don’t you pick out a movie, and I’ll put together a snack?”
Not that he needed a snack after the huge meal they’d eaten, but he’d have gone along with just about anything to avoid leaving. Whenever he was with her, he felt something that went way beyond happiness.
Contentment.
The two emotions were different, he realized as he surveyed the collection of holiday movies in the cabinet under the TV. More than fun, or joy, time with Julia left him with the firm belief that he was no longer missing something he wasn’t even aware he’d wanted. Confusing but wonderful, he didn’t have the words to accurately describe it.
Maybe, he thought as he pulled out a DVD case, that was what made it so special.
Julia appeared with a plate piled high with candies and cookies. “I pulled out a little of everything. What did you end up with?” Nick showed her, and her mouth fell open in astonishment. “Miracle on 34th Street? What made you pick that one?”
He’d chosen one of the longer ones she had, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her. Instead, he shrugged. “I’ve never seen it. Is it okay with you?”
“More than okay,” she assured him, setting the plate on the table before sitting back down. “It’s my favorite.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nick asked while he got the movie started. “Why’s that?”
“The idea of having faith in something you can’t prove, just because you know in your heart that it’s real.” Nibbling on a reindeer cookie, she added, “Plus, I like how the girl and her mom go from being cynical about love to believing in it.”
Flinging himself onto the couch, he spread his arms across the back and let out a groan. “Are you telling me this is a holiday chick flick? Perfect.”
He’d thought he sounded pretty convincing, but she laughed. “You’ve got the grumbly bear act down pat. You must terrify the people who work for you.”
“Everyone except Bree,” he replied while he fast-forwarded through the previews. “I had no idea you two were such good friends. You’re so different from each other.”
“I know, but it works somehow. I like having a girlfriend to do things with.”
I’d like that, too.
The thought came and went so quickly, he almost missed it. Before long, she was cuddled up beside him, and he found himself enjoying the sweet, sappy movie. As far from his usual Saturday night as he could possibly get, Nick caught himself wishing there was a way to make this evening go on forever.
*
Nick finally tore himself away from Julia’s around eleven. She sent him back to Lainie’s with a warm smile and a plate full of treats for the Martins. If they’d been in Richmond, he’d have invented a reason to dawdle, but this was Holiday Harbor. That kind of lingering would only cause trouble for Julia, and in spite of what she’d said earlier, he wasn’t about to do anything to grease the wheels of the local gossip mill.
When he got back to Lainie’s, the house was dark except for the light over the kitchen stove. A note on the table told him there was leftover meatloaf in the fridge if he wanted it, along with a squiggly-mouthed smiley face that told him his sister remembered just how much he hated meatloaf. After recycling the note, he stood in the living room with his hands in his back pockets. He had the strangest feeling he’d forgotten to do something, but he couldn’t figure out what was missing from his very full day.
Deciding it would come to him eventually, he headed upstairs and got ready for bed. Lying there in the dark, every time he closed his eyes he saw Julia’s face. Smiling, laughing, filled with gratitude for his handling of her very personal story. If he tried harder, he could hear her voice, with the soft lilt that he assumed was a blend of French and Midwestern, inherited from her parents.
They’d spent hours in interviews and just talking, and he’d come to love the sound of that voice. Gentle and sweet, with a hint of the steel he noted in her eyes when something was important to her. Somewhere along the line, when he wasn’t paying attention, she’d become very special to him. And suddenly, he wanted to do something out of the ordinary for her. But what?
Selecting Christmas gifts wasn’t his strength. Julia and Lainie had helped him buy things for the kids, and his ideas for the grown-ups in the family were practical. For Julia, he wanted something else. Something that would earn him one of those amazing smiles.
While he mulled various options, he searched his memory for a clue about what she might like. Then, clear as a bell, he recalled what she’d said when he’d been admiring the collection in her office.
Now that I’m settled, I’d love to get a dollhouse.
Rolling over, he grabbed his laptop from the bedside table and woke the screen. Typing in a search, he landed at a site in Modesto, California, that sold what he needed. Dollhouses. Not the little-kid kind, but miniature versions of mansions from across the world, large enough to hold Julia’s impressive collection of furniture. The prices were extravagant, too, but the homes were custom-made and probably worth every penny. Clicking through the gallery, he landed on one called The Vanderbilt and grinned. Perfect.
He had no idea if the house was sitting on a shelf or had to be built. He also couldn’t determine whether it would arrive in Maine in time for Christmas. For this kind of money, he wasn’t taking any chances, so he called the contact number, expecting to get an answering machine. Instead, a man’s voice answered. “Howard’s Miniatures. Can I help you?”
“I’m online looking at your Vanderbilt house. I don’t suppose you’ve got one ready to go?”
The man chuckled. “This must be your day. I made one for a customer who called yesterday to tell me she changed her mind. I’ll knock ten percent off the price since it’s not custom.”
Good so far. “That’s cool, but can you get it to northern Maine by Christmas Eve?”
“Sure, but it’ll cost. Also, one this big ships in three crates, so you’ll have to assemble it.”
Nick’s enthusiasm wavered at the thought of assembling anything, but he charged ahead anyway. He’d figure out the details later.
“That’s okay. I’ll take it.” Nick fumbled on the table for his wallet and read off his credit card n
umbers.
“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. McHenry. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too. Thanks so much.”
Thirty seconds after he hung up, Nick had a confirmation email and a link to track the shipment once it was sent. His next problem was where to store it when it arrived, but he knew one of his local friends would be willing to help him with that. As for assembling it, Ben could probably put the thing together with his eyes closed, and Nick jotted a note to talk to him about it in the morning. He wasn’t used to relying on people this way, and he decided it was a definite perk of being back in Holiday Harbor.
The mantel clock downstairs chimed midnight, and Nick suddenly realized what he’d been forgetting. Kaleidoscope.
As close to panic as he ever got, he opened his layout program and hit “publish.” The seconds ticked by at a snail’s pace, and he watched the spinning wheel that showed the issue’s progress onto the main site.
Every Sunday, the new issue was available for subscribers at midnight. It was usually ready hours earlier, and he’d never even come close to missing that deadline. Today he’d been enjoying himself so much, he’d almost dropped the ball. Not that he believed anyone logged in at exactly midnight to read the magazine, but still. Forgetting about it until the last minute was as close to failing as he ever wanted to get.
Once the edition was uploaded, he followed his usual process and spot-checked it online. Everything looked fine, and he finished up by skimming the new section: Person of Interest. He’d used the sugarplum fairy picture of Julia as a link, and clicking on it took the reader into the next installment of her story. Normally, he stopped with a visual check, but this time he went through the content again.
Rereading it took him back through the days since he first met her that cold morning outside the bakery. He’d learned so much about her, and not just from the interviews. In that time, they’d become friends, and he’d come to admire her more than he’d have thought possible. The way she crouched down to speak to children. The generosity she showed in running her toy drive and giving her time to the pageant. The patient understanding she’d shown him since learning about Ian.
Love Inspired December 2013 - Bundle 2 of 2: Cozy ChristmasHer Holiday HeroJingle Bell Romance Page 51
