Kelly grinned. “Come on, let’s get that sign made for the door, then I’ll treat you to a thank-you lunch. You come, too, Mary!”
• • •
Rather than walking through the sharp spring wind to one of the seafood eateries on the quay, they chose a small cafe on the town square that served fair-trade goods. Mary had cried off, much to Noelia’s relief, saying she had a hair appointment, so it was just the two of them. It was a little early for the usual lunch crowd, and they had one side of the cafe to themselves. The waitress introduced herself as Kathy Lee, filled their coffee cups, and gave them menus.
“The cream of tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwich on fresh baked farmhouse bread is our special today, and I can vouch for it being good,” she told them with a big smile. “I baked the bread myself.”
“Then how could we possibly not try it?” Kelly joked, peeling off her dark-blue jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair. They both ordered the special and settled down for a catch-up chat.
“I have really missed you,” Noelia said. “And not just because I’ve been run off my feet. We have had two new wedding-party orders, complete with mother of the bride, and other wedding-party items. That new line of wedding-night lingerie you ordered has just flown off the shelves—seems it’s not just brides who want to make their man’s eyes pop!”
Kelly chortled. “I knew that would work! I’d already taken some for a test run myself.”
Noelia rolled her eyes. “Okay, old, staid single woman here. Keep the madly in love and lust comments to yourself.”
“Noelia, you’re a beautiful, caring woman. Have you ever thought of finding someone to share your life with?” Catching her friend’s hard look, Kelly added, “Oh, dear, have I hit a nerve?”
“Just that Mary has been on my case about dating for ages now. She almost threw me at a guy who came in with a wedding dress the other day.”
Kelly frowned. “Well, you already have a date now with that cute painter.”
“That is not a date!”
Fortunately, the waitress arrived with their meals before Noelia could utter the next words that came to her mind. She’d thought better of them before Kathy Lee finished laying out their food and wished them bon appetit.
“Let’s get this straight,” she insisted. “Marco is not a date. He’s a nice guy trying to learn a difficult language so that he can get the most out of the Italian museums and art galleries. With. His. Wife.”
Kelly sipped her soup. “If you say so, dear. My, but this soup is good.”
“I do say so. And by the way, we had four queries about wedding planning—two kind of short notice, because they’ve set the dates for four months from now for outdoor late-summer weddings. Also, a query from a young bride-to-be who wants a basic package for a quickie wedding. Maybe we can plan the christening, as well.” Noelia grinned. “Anyhow, I made appointments for them all with you. Check the book back at the shop. And believe it or not, Sasha was super with the young expecting bride-to-be. She found her the perfect dress at the right price and advised her on how wedding planning works.”
“Oooh, you were busy while I was away. I’m pleased to hear it wasn’t all terrible with Sasha. Now tell me about that man that Mary wanted to ‘throw you at,’ as you put it.”
Noelia knew she was blushing a little as she recalled Nate, the disappearing customer.
“Was it so embarrassing that it makes Noelia the Never Flustered blush? Or did you—oh, yes, you did—you liked him!”
“What is with this idea everyone seems to have that I need a partner? For heaven’s sake, this was just a skittish guy who brought a wedding gown into the store, an acquaintance of Mary’s. He said he wanted to sell the gown and then he scarpered, leaving it behind. I expect he’ll be back.”
“You know, while we were away, I had this weird feeling that something was up with you. . . . ”
“There’s nothing up with me, for goodness’ sake. And whatever did that new husband of yours say about worrying about me while on your honeymoon?”
“You know, I should have told you that. I said to Brett that I had a funny feeling Noelia’s got something going on. You know what he said? And I quote: ‘Noelia will be fine. That woman could solve the financial crisis and organize world peace, and all before breakfast. Your business is safe with her.’”
Noelia grinned. “Well, thank him for the compliment—I think! But he wasn’t there when his sister told Mrs. Rawston—you know, the groom’s mother from the Bingham wedding? One of our biggest to date—”
Kelly sighed. “Okay, what did my dear sister-in-law tell Mrs. Rawston? And is she still a customer?”
“Sasha told her, ‘That dress would make you look like a plucked turkey.’ Mrs. R. left the store in a huff, but I think she’ll be back. I tried to talk to Sasha about using a bit of tact, but her defense was that she was telling the truth.”
The two women looked at each other and burst out laughing. “What was Mrs. Rawston planning to wear?” Kelly asked, wiping her eyes.
“It was this absolutely awful gray-pink-beige patterned concoction with frills all down the front, from a mother-of-the-bride catalog that came in recently. And I hate to say it, but Sasha was right. It was just the way she said it.”
“You do know I’ll never be able to look at that lady again without seeing a plucked turkey, don’t you?”
Chapter Four
Noelia arrived for work early the next day, knowing that time was set aside to rework all the store arrangements while it was closed to customers. And then they would open for a grand sale! She clucked her tongue as she looked around. Without a doubt, it would take them a whole day to get this mess cleaned up. Marco the painter had tidied his equipment up but had left the furniture and showcases he’d moved, because Kelly had told him they were going to revamp everything.
She hung her raincoat on a hook in the back room, set up the coffee machine, and found a thick sheaf of notes in Kelly’s sprawling handwriting right beside the cash register. She removed a chair’s dust cover so that she could sit and read. Obviously, her boss had given a lot of thought to the spruce-up of her store, and there was a list of changes and rearrangements that she wanted, starting with the upper displays on the wall that was now a more muted tangerine. At the end of the list, Kelly had scribbled a note in red pen.
Hope you can get the ball rolling. Sasha should be in early to help. I have an appointment this morning but I’ll get there as soon as I can, probably by mid-morning. It’s horribly cold in here—hope that the furnace isn’t going to give us trouble again.
Noelia frowned. It didn’t seem cold in here now. Maybe Kelly had turned the heat way up. Anyhow, there was certainly a full day’s work here, but first she needed a caffeine fix. Hopefully Kelly would be back soon, and Sasha—when she arrives, that is. While she waited for the coffee to brew, she went into the storeroom and hoisted a large box that had arrived from FedEx the previous day. With an effort, she carried it through to the main store area and perched it on the drop-cloth-covered Victorian mahogany table. Stroking a hand across its surface, she slit the tape on the top of the box and opened the flaps.
She breathed deeply of the new book aroma that wafted from inside. How she, and most of the other women in Marina Grove, had been looking forward to this day when Mimi L’Amour’s new novel, The Duke’s Chosen Bride, arrived in the stores. No matter how many books she had published, there was always this frisson of delight and pride when she opened a box and saw the latest one nestled there.
The bright shiny cover showed an incredibly beautiful woman in a flowing, low-cut gown, dancing cheek to cheek with an impossibly sexy, swashbuckling guy. Noelia sighed. If only her real life was as rich as her imaginary one.
Even though Wedding Bliss was a one-stop shop for wedding paraphernalia and planning, Kelly had received so many requests from customers for the romance author’s work that Noelia had persuaded her without much effort to carry the books. They were both gr
atified that each new release flew off the shelves, but she knew Kelly was surprised that Noelia always discouraged her boss from trying to get the author to do a book signing at the store, even though she was rumored to be a local resident. She guessed that had made Kelly suspicious, but everyone in Marina Grove knew the author—whoever she was—valued her privacy. The locals had spent many a happy hour over coffee at the various eateries in town, trying to guess who wrote these books and coming up with some wild suggestions—including floating the idea that the author was a man who used a female pseudonym. Whatever the talk, Noelia was glad that no one had realized that she, a middle-aged, staid shop assistant and member of the church women’s union, was behind the hot stories between those lurid covers.
She finished up putting the books onto a shelf set aside for them near the cash register, and went into the back office/kitchen to get her coffee. There was a loud knock at the front door. A glance at her watch showed it was barely eight o’clock. Besides, there was a large notice posted on the door about the store being closed. She debated whether to stay out of sight and ignore whoever was there, then thought perhaps it was Sasha who had forgotten her key yet again.
But the shadow through the door certainly wasn’t Sasha—indeed, it was a man, tall and broad. With a sigh, she pulled back the lock and opened the door to find her mystery man, Nate Westbury, standing there looking embarrassed.
“I am so sorry. I was on my way to the office and thought I saw someone in the store, so I stopped in to talk to you about the wedding dress I left. I did see the closed notice, but I also . . . You see . . . I thought . . . ” Dr. Nate Westbury took a deep breath. “I know that I owe you an apology for my behavior the other day, and I was hoping you would be here so that I could tell you how sorry I am for being so rude.”
“That’s nice of you,” Noelia said. “I think I was also somewhat rude to you.” Her cheeks flushed as she remembered saying that she didn’t drag customers off into the back room and ravish them.
“So, we’re even?” he said, giving the kind of smile that would melt icebergs.
Pulling herself together, Noelia invited him to step inside. “As you can see, the place is a mess. We’re doing some painting and reorganization, but while you’re here, perhaps we can discuss what help you’re looking for.”
Out of respect, Noelia hadn’t opened the box Nate had left, as she didn’t know what the man wanted.
• • •
He looked around and was embarrassed to see that he’d caught her right in the middle of some major tasks. “I can see you’re really busy. Maybe I should come back tomorrow.” He began to back away through the doorway. He was tall enough that the silver bells above the door brushed against his hair and slid away to jangle madly, as madly, he thought, as his pulse was hammering right now.
Noelia smiled. “Oh, no, you don’t get away that easily. Just let me put these baby dolls away, and I’ll be right with you.”
“Baby dolls?” he asked, eyeing the wisps of silk and nylon in her hands. They didn’t look like dolls to him.
Then she held one up, and suddenly he remembered the old-fashioned term for not-quite-there lacy panties that were barely covered by matching lacy mini nightdresses. Unbidden, his mind conjured an image of Noelia wearing one of these outfits—that red satin one would light up her beautiful skin . . . He swallowed hard and prayed she wasn’t a mind reader, or she’d probably throw him out of the store and tell him never to go near her again. He swallowed hard as he saw the funny little smile and the way the crimson blush on her cheeks reddened even more. Had she guessed his thoughts? Or was his imagination getting the better of him again?
“Well, if you’re sure, I would like to get something started on this.” Trying for a businesslike tone, he spotted a large flat box on the table and, assuming it was the box containing Lydia’s wedding gown, he reached out and opened it. He dimly heard Noelia’s gasp as the box tipped an assortment of sheer, silky negligees into his hands.
Then she was laughing as if it was the funniest thing she’d seen in years. And, being honest with himself, he could see her point. That’ll teach me to be so uptight and anal, he thought.
“Oh, dear—your face! I guess you haven’t shopped honeymoon fashions in a while,” Noelia said, laughter still in her voice. “I believe the box you brought in is in our storeroom. I’ll fetch it, just as soon as I pour my morning shot of caffeine. Would you like one?”
Nate thought that, in his current state, it probably wasn’t a good idea for him to be anywhere near a combination of coffee and layers and layers of white wedding gown. Or anything else, he added, looking at the flimsy nightwear scattered around. But at least the coffee would give him something to do with his hands. “Coffee would be good if you don’t mind.”
“Well, just move those drop cloths and find yourself a seat. Don’t go away. I’ll be right back.”
• • •
Oh my goodness, I’m flirting! Noelia’s fingers shook as she reached for the cream and sugar containers. I’m flirting with a man I hardly know. What on earth’s gotten into me?
She felt the red tide of embarrassment surging up her neck and blooming on her cheeks, and was tempted to try and hide in the kitchen in hopes he would go away. But that voice—rich, deep, and masculine. Very attractive. And the store’s bottom line wasn’t so healthy she could turn away customers, she rationalized. So she hitched her shoulders, put a businesslike smile on her face, and returned to the store with two steaming cups held precariously in one hand and a wedding gown box tucked under her other arm.
“I am so sorry—the store must seem like such a mess,” she said. “My assistant is late, again, and I thought you were her when I heard the door. Sasha often forgets her keys. You know what young women are like these days.”
She was puzzled at the pained expression that crossed Nate’s face; whatever had she said that could make him scowl like that? “I’m sorry again. Did I say something?”
“No, no, it’s nothing you said. It’s just that my daughter is a headstrong young woman, but she’s been in an accident and, well, I’d give everything I own to have her well and sassing me again.”
• • •
Noelia looked so sad that for a moment Nate was sure she could read his mind or see the deep pain in his soul. The rawness of that thought made him straighten his spine. Pulling himself together with a great effort, he took the cardboard box from her, holding it in front of him as if it were a shield. “I wanted to know—rather, I heard your store takes wedding gowns on consignment. This . . . my daughter’s wedding dress . . . it has never been worn.”
“Oh, I see,” Noelia said, and he knew she was guessing his daughter was too injured to walk down the aisle. What would she say if she knew how much he would oppose her marrying Daniel Hellman, the man he was sure had abandoned her when she needed him the most?
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run out on you like that the other day, but I was needed at work.”
“Oh, well, of course.” Noelia offered him a seat at the handsome antique table. “What sort of work do you do?”
“I’m a psychologist, and I consult at the Marina Grove Hospital once a week. My office is in Bar Harbor but . . . I . . . my daughter is here.” Maybe he was going too far in his reluctance to talk, but the pain of Lydia’s condition was still raw.
He saw the quick look of curiosity that swept across her face before disappearing, to be replaced by a friendly smile. “Let’s start again, shall we? Welcome to Wedding Bliss. I’m Noelia—how may I help you today?”
The sudden change to polite businesslike manner was exactly what Nate needed. “Good idea. I’m Dr. Nate Westbury. As I said, this wedding dress was bought for my daughter, but the wedding . . . has been called off, and I wondered if your store would consider taking it on consignment?” He managed a polite smile and proffered the box again. “It’s kind of upsetting, having it hanging in her room.”
“Oh, dear, I can imagine it woul
d be a very sad reminder.”
Nate didn’t enlighten her about just how sad it was. He watched as she cleared a space well away from the coffee cups, and was entranced by her smile of genuine delight as she lifted the beautiful bridal gown from its wrappings. The gown glittered with tiny pearls around the fitted bodice, and the skirt was an exuberant snowy froth of lace.
“This is gorgeous!” she breathed, her pleasure bringing a smile to Nate’s usually stern face. “Oh, I am sure Kelly—my boss—would be delighted to add it to our stock. On consignment?” At Nate’s nod, she continued. “Do you have any idea what you want for it? We charge a 30 percent commission, and the price is often set based on the original price of the gown less a percentage as . . . ”
She was interrupted by a bugle call—literally. Nate flushed as he pulled out his phone and looked at the number. His face was serious as he told Noelia he would have to leave. “That’s my secretary; a bit of a crisis going on and I need to get back to the office. I just want the gown sold—I trust you to set a fair price. Can we continue this later?”
“Of course—here’s the store card with our numbers on it." Noelia picked up a pen and, feeling very adventurous, scribbled her own cell number on the back of it. “That’s my number, just in case you can’t reach anyone at the store.”
• • •
Wedding Bliss felt empty after he left, as if his personality had filled a space that was now void. Her cell phone shrilled, the Rolling Stones song she got such a kick out of, but she only heard a few bars of “Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown” before the sound stopped. There was no missed call warning, no caller number. What was that about?
Noelia sighed, slipped the phone in her pocket, and began to examine the wedding dress Nate Westbury had brought in. It was exquisite, soft snow-white layers of lace over an organza skirt, the bodice fitted from a low neckline down to the hips, and long white lace sleeves with another froth of the same lace over the wrists, all highlighted by pearls that glimmered in the overhead lights.
The Sleeping Beauty Bride Page 4
