Amanda_A Contemporary Retelling of Emma

by Debra White Smith

  “Well, it could happen to the best of us,” Nate soothed as he retrieved the sodas and began placing them into the bowl.

  A pair of polished black shoes appeared near the ice’s edge. Haley gazed up the length of long, black slacks, a white jacket, and a smiling waiter. “I’ll take over from here,” he offered.

  “Oh, sure,” Haley said and stood.

  “Would you believe it?” Nate whispered. “This bowl of ice jumped out at Haley and tried to bite her.” He looked from one side to the other as if he were a spy. “If you don’t get some control on these things, I’m going to have to report you to headquarters.”

  The waiter laughed outright, and Haley giggled. Nate threw in a relaxed smile and reached for Haley’s arm. He respectfully guided her away from the scene of the crime and said, “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” Haley said and remembered her soda. “Whoops! I forgot my Coke,” she exclaimed and abruptly turned back the direction she came. She stepped on something that nearly knocked her off balance again.

  “Yikes!” the waiter squealed. “You got my finger.”

  “Oh no!” Haley wailed. “I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that.”

  The sandy-haired waiter shook his hand, then looked at his reddened index finger.

  Haley stooped toward him. “Are you okay? Are you going to be okay?” she worried.

  “Yes, I think so,” he mumbled and drew away from her.

  “I was just getting my Coke. I left it here.” She picked up the bottled beverage. “And I didn’t see you down there.” She shook her head from side to side.

  “It’s okay,” the man said and rubbed at his finger.

  “Are you sure? I could go get something for you. Maybe some ice?”

  “No, I think you’ve already taken care of the ice,” he said through a dry smile.

  “Yes, I guess so.” Haley fretted and twisted open the bottle cap. A hiss of air escaped the bottle. “Well, I guess I’ll just move along then.”

  “Please do . . . I mean—” The waiter shook his head. “That’s fine.”

  “Well, okay then.” Haley edged away from him. She stopped near Nate, sipped the sweet liquid, and relished the sting on her tongue.

  While Nate’s face was impassive, his eyes danced with new humor. He retrieved a bottle of club soda from the bowl on the table’s other end and unscrewed the cap.

  Haley sighed. “I’m tempted to go change into the pair of slip-ons I keep in my office. I’m beginning to think spike heels just weren’t meant for me.”

  Nate looked at her feet before downing a fourth of the bottle.

  “I nearly fell off them,” Haley continued. “That’s why I knocked the ice bowl crazy. I’m just surprised stepping on his finger didn’t make me topple.”

  Nate lowered the bottle and winced through his final swallow. “But they look so good with your dress.”

  “Now you’re starting to sound like Amanda,” she countered and couldn’t stop the rush of pleasure over Nate’s compliment.

  Up until she met Roger, Haley had been smitten with Nate. Amanda had never suspected. Neither did Nate. But from the first time she saw him strolling into the travel agency, Haley thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

  That day when she’d asked him if she could help, Nate had said he’d come to see Amanda. Haley immediately assumed Amanda and Nate must be a couple. When Amanda treated him like a brother she took for granted, Haley had been astounded. How any woman could gaze upon the likes of Nate Knighton and not see all his masculine glory was beyond Haley.

  Then she’d met Roger and recognized her interest in Nate for what it was—a young woman’s appreciation for a fine masculine specimen. While Haley believed her attraction could have grown into love, she was also rational enough to understand it had not. She’d never felt for Nate what had grown between her and Roger. Even now, she thought fondly of Roger—when she wasn’t with Mason.

  Haley disciplined herself not to dwell on Roger or worry about what he thought. That chapter in her life was closed. Mason was the one who cared so much he asked for her portrait. A pleasant tremor raced through Haley. Mason was enamored enough to hang her image in his home and share it with his mother and sister. It was as if she finally belonged to someone . . . to a family.

  She smiled up at Nate. “Thanks for your help.”

  “Any time,” Nate responded and returned her grin. “I make it a habit to always assist women who spill things.”

  “Well, there are days you could make a full-time job of helping me.”

  “Humph,” Nate said and patted her shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  Haley beamed up at him. Even now she appreciated the kindhearted man beneath the external appeal. Nate didn’t have to help her with the spill. Any other person in the room could have aided. But no one else offered, and he did. The vice president and heir of Knighton’s Department Stores never hesitated at lowering his knee to assist a mere secretary.

  Haley came within a breath of sighing like an adolescent pining over a photo of her favorite movie star. Nate’s being so completely unaware of her thoughts only sweetened the moment. Haley never imagined the likes of Nate Knighton would ever be romantically interested in her—a child-orphan turned secretary. But the old daydreams beckoned Haley to immerse her mind anew in what-ifs.

  “Would you care for an hors d’ouevre?” he politely inquired as he indulged in another long drink.

  “Sure,” Haley replied and disciplined her mind not to go to what-if land. Reminding herself she had Mason to consider, Haley wondered if Amanda would ever wake up.

  As Nate motioned for a waiter, he cleared his throat. “Um,” he hesitated, “I didn’t know if I’d get the chance to tell you or not, but since we’re here . . .”

  Haley leaned toward him and tried to fathom what he could be leading to. “Yes?” she prompted.

  “Well, Roger told me to tell you hello.” Nate scrutinized Haley, and she decided the rug needed to be examined.

  “Uh . . . well . . . um . . . thanks—thanks for telling me,” she stammered and could not deny the heightened interest. “How is he these days?” she asked.

  “Fine. A little lonely,” Nate hinted, “but fine.”

  Haley nodded and peered at Amanda, who was still holding baby Matt while talking to Franklyn West. Haley had only briefly met Franklyn at the beginning of the party. He’d chatted with Amanda off and on ever since then. She wished her friend could rush over and give her something to say about the whole Roger business. Haley could conjure nothing appropriate—or inappropriate, either, for that matter.

  Her attention flicked to the saltwater aquarium spanning the south wall. Neither the colorful fish nor coral provided inspiration.

  The waiter approached, much to Haley’s relief, and saved her the misery of dissolving into a heap of inadequate verbiage.

  “Why don’t you just leave the whole tray with me?” Nate joked as he chose four morsels rolled in bacon, and Haley joined the two men in their laughing.

  Twelve

  “Do you mind my saying you’re every bit as beautiful as Angie said you were?” Franklyn’s cultured voice blended with the harpist’s fluid chords and washed over Amanda.

  “I don’t mind in the least,” Amanda returned and smiled into eyes the color of the Tasman Sea. Her agitation at seeing Nate dimmed in the light of Franklyn’s appeal.

  “All right then,” Franklyn said, “you’re every bit as beautiful as Angie said you were.” Franklyn’s charming grin matched his fluid words and warmed Amanda to the point that she put the Nate issues on hold for later. Nate was acting odder than ever tonight. Who knew why.

  “Thanks,” Amanda said through a chuckle and touched the side of her hair where the unruly cowlick had been only forty-five minutes ago. All was smooth.

  Baby Matt followed her lead and grasped for her hair.

  “No, no,” Amanda crooned and moved the baby to her right hip.
If her hair were baptized in baby spit, she wasn’t sure what it would morph into. She shifted her weight to her right foot and allowed her aching left toes some relief. High heels certainly were not the shoes for hauling a baby around.

  “He’s cute. Is he yours?” Franklyn glanced toward her ring finger.

  “No!” Amanda shook her head and stroked Matt’s velvet soft hair with her left hand to clearly reveal no signs of a wedding band. “He’s my sister’s.” She kissed Matt’s soft forehead and enjoyed the smell of baby shampoo.

  “Ah.” Franklyn nodded. “I thought I recognized a resemblance, but I also thought I remembered Angie saying you were single.”

  Amanda nodded and nearly allowed her smile to enter the flirtatious zone. She stopped just short of coy and said, “You’re right. I’ve never been married. And you?”

  “No.” Franklyn shook his head. “But I’m not necessarily against the idea.” He leaned forward as if they were sharing the sincerest of secrets, and Amanda wasn’t expecting the tiny thrill that zipped through her tummy.

  She lowered her gaze to his tuxedo’s bow tie and swallowed hard. Even though she was as dedicated to her father as ever, Amanda decided a lighthearted attachment couldn’t hurt a thing, especially not with someone as attractive as Franklyn West. Like Nate, he was tall, broad-shouldered, and witty. She was already adept at dealing with the likes and enjoyed looking Franklyn eye to eye nearly as much as she did Nate.

  Maybe more, she thought.

  “My dad and Angie say you might paint a portrait of Dad and me,” Franklyn said.

  “If we can find time,” Amanda said, “I’ll be glad to.”

  “I think we’d both like that. We’re trying to get to know each other better, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Amanda said. “Would you say it’s going well?”

  “Very.” Franklyn nodded. “And I’m wild about Angie.”

  “Who isn’t?”

  “Amanda, thank you so much for all of this.” Betty Cates’s shrill voice broke into their conversation.

  Amanda turned to the housekeeper who became part of the Wood-Priebe family many years ago. She’d been cleaning the villa and office as long as Amanda could remember. Amanda thought of her more as an aunt than an employee. She’d do anything for Betty—even throw a party for the niece who made Amanda feel oversized and dowdy.

  “You’re welcome, Betty,” Amanda said. “If it weren’t for you, my whole life would look like the top of my desk, and there’d be an inch of dust on everything I own. The least I can do is welcome your niece to town.”

  In a glance, Amanda noted Betty’s earrings matched this time. They were both pearl buttons. And she’d somehow managed to don a silky dress in blue with a pair of shoes that matched the dress . . . and each other.

  Betty toyed with her long strand of faux pearls, then pushed her “binocular” glasses up her nose. “And who are you?” she asked while peering up at Franklyn.

  “This is Franklyn West,” Amanda explained. “He’s Wayne’s son. Angie’s stepson.”

  “How do you do?” Franklyn said, and Amanda couldn’t help but admire the suave British lilt to his voice. “I believe we met briefly at church when I was in town six months ago.”

  “Yes!” Betty nodded. “I remember you now. Just had to get my eyes lined up.”

  Baby Matt gurgled and reached for Betty’s pearls.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Amanda crooned and wondered when Nate would be back—despite the fact that these days he was as hard to read as Chinese. His tie had really captured Matt. Or better yet, Matt had captured his tie.

  While Betty interrogated Franklyn, Amanda scanned the crowd. She spotted Nate still near the beverage table with Haley. But now Janet had joined them. Shortly after Nate left to help Haley, Janet had excused herself on the grounds of needing a drink. Nate chuckled at something Janet said and gazed at her with blatant male appreciation that had nothing to do with Janet’s personality.

  Amanda told herself not to react. Her face tightened anyway. If Nate’s going to throw himself at some woman, she fumed, the least he can do is find one who isn’t so petite and bronze and charming.

  Then Amanda considered Nate’s mystery woman—that ever-elusive feminine entity who forced him to shove all her Christmas presents in his closet. I wonder what she’d think about Nate ogling Janet French? Then another idea barged through her mind. Maybe Janet is the mystery woman! Amanda’s growing frown only deepened.

  And at that moment Nate looked past Janet and straight at Amanda. With a one-dimpled smile, he raised his bottle of club soda toward her like a wordless toast. Amanda snapped her attention back to Betty. Sensing Nate’s observation, she tried to dissolve the frown and look as casual as possible.

  Betty lowered her voice and leaned closer to Franklyn. “Janet doesn’t know it, but I’m looking for a husband for her,” she explained. “That’s part of the reason I asked Amanda to have this party. I just knew there’d be some single men here who might do the trick.” She snapped her fingers and nodded. “I’ve just added you to my list.” She toyed with the fringe of hair at her neck.

  “Me?” Franklyn blanched.

  “Yes, you. What do you do for a living, anyway?”

  “I’m finishing medical school,” he wheezed.

  “Good. That’s a good profession.” She nodded.

  Amanda wondered if Betty would act like someone buying a horse and ask to examine Franklyn’s teeth next.

  “I’m not sure how long I’ll be here or—or if I’ll have time for a wedding.” His chuckle sounded about as sincere as a drowning man asking for a drink of water. “My aunt is ill, you know. My dad’s sister. She’s like my mother. Or should I say, she is my mother. She raised me. I’ll be going back home soon—back to London.”

  “That’s okay.” Betty shook her finger at him and wrinkled her nose. “You don’t have to marry her this week. Next year might do just fine.”

  “Well, I . . .” Franklyn lowered his head and looked from side to side.

  Amanda stifled a groan and wondered if Betty would ever learn to refrain from saying exactly what she was thinking at every given moment. “Betty—” she began, only to be cut off by the housekeeper’s exclamation.

  “Don’t tell me! Amanda, look here in the back of my hair.” Betty whipped around. “Is there a curler back there, or am I imagining things?”

  Amanda pulled her face away from Matt’s chubby fingers as he groped at her mouth. While grappling with the baby, she struggled to focus on Betty’s hairline. Sure enough, a pink curler peeked from the depths of Betty’s frizzy hair. Amanda’s chortle preceded her nod.

  “Yes, there’s a curler,” she affirmed.

  “I can’t believe this. I just can’t!” Betty fretted and tugged at the curler. “And I can’t get it out, either. No wonder I missed it. I guess it’s stuck!”

  “Here, let me help,” Franklyn offered with a good-natured smile.

  Amanda touched Matt’s nose and said, “Boo!” in an attempt to cover her mortification. Even Matt’s delightful smile couldn’t smother her embarrassment. Betty Cates had reduced the most eligible bachelor in the room to removing a curler. And on top of that, Betty had just added him to her “Janet’s Husband” list.

  Can’t Betty see those two would never fit each other? Amanda wondered.

  She glanced back at Nate. He leaned closer to Janet as if he were pining for her every word. Amanda wondered if Betty had placed Nate on her list, as well.

  If she doesn’t, Amanda huffed, he’ll probably beg to be on it by midnight!

  Amanda recalled what he’d said outside the villa a month ago. “Look at me, Amanda. I’m a man! I’m not one of your girlfriends. I’m a guy!” She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized the person who’d been her friend since her sister married his brother. They’d met when Gordon and Bev started dating. He’d been twenty. She was ten. By the time Amanda was twelve, she was the founding member of the Nate Knighton fan club. Her a
dolescent hero worship had grown into a reasonable friendship.

  Even though Nate had mercilessly teased her, he’d eventually been like a comfortable sweater, warm and cozy and just the right fit. Now nothing about Nate was comfortable or cozy. If anything, he was as uncomfortable as an old sweater, worn out and outgrown.

  To add to her misery, Amanda realized with a jolt that Nate had been right. He was a guy! He wasn’t just her friend or brother, he was a man! At least, that’s what Janet’s expression said. So did Haley’s, for that matter. And so did some feminine instinct deep within Amanda.

  Baby Matt’s insistent whine snared Amanda’s attention, and she focused on pacifying the infant. But all the while she wondered how long Nate had been so much of a man.

  “Do you want me to find his mom?” Franklyn asked while handing Betty the curler he’d pulled from her hair.

  “I see her right there.” Still fussing with her locks, Betty pointed across the room where Bev and Gordon had found a corner of their own.

  Amanda sighed and bounced baby Matt. “That’s okay. Those two need their time together.” Gordon and Bev were so in love it was enough to tempt Amanda ever closer to the prospect herself. Given the fact that tall and blond and available was within reach, the option was nearly too tempting to reject.

  “Maybe he’d like the fish tank,” Franklyn said.

  “Great idea!” Amanda didn’t even wait for anyone to follow. She hustled straight to the saltwater aquarium and prayed this would be the answer to all of Matt’s restlessness.

  As soon as the baby spotted the clown fish, he was hooked. His tears ceased. He placed his chubby hand against the tank and began to babble as if he were speaking some language only the fish would understand.

  “It worked!” Franklyn said.

  “Looks that way,” Amanda said and smiled up at tall and blond and available.

  He didn’t bother to hide his male appreciation. “So what are you doing after the party?” he asked.

  “You mean, after—after this party?” Amanda stammered and sensed she was about to be asked out on a date.