by Gayla Twist
“Okay,” Sheila said. “You do look really pale. I hope you’re not coming down with something.” She took a precautionary step backward, just in case.
“No, I just…” Margot took in a deep breath. “I just have to go.”
Margot was extremely grateful that Babs had lent her the car for the evening. Waiting around for a taxi or a bus was not what she needed at that moment. She was even more grateful that the car actually started up on the first try. Not something Babs’s car had a reputation for doing.
By clearing her throat repeatedly on the way home, Margot kept the tears at bay. She knew she was being an idiot. She knew that Noah had just made an honest mistake. But still, she was furious. And hurt. And still a little freaked out that James Michaelmus had tried to attack her. There should have been a warning posted about that creep under his IMDB profile, she decided.
“How was the fundraiser?” Babs asked as Margot came storming into their apartment. “Did Noah show up? Did he talk to you? I don’t suppose there was any more dancing.”
Wrenching open the refrigerator door, Margot said, “He showed up. He talked to me.” She grabbed out a mostly full bottle of pinot grigio. “He’s a jerk.” She swiped a clean wine glass out of the cupboard. “I’m going to bed.”
“Those were really helpful details,” Babs called after her, but she could tell by the storm cloud over Margot’s head that she would have to wait until morning to hear the whole story.
Once she was alone in her converted closet of a room, Margot yanked the cork and drank deeply from the bottle of wine. Flopping onto her bed, she took the time to fill her glass before continuing to ply her hurt and anger with alcohol. Men are all jackasses, she concluded. It was the only explanation. She knew her chances of turning lesbian were slim to none, so she was just going to have to learn to do without.
Her purse, which had been ringing the entire drive home, started ringing again. Margot wrenched it open and pried out her phone. All the calls were from the same number. Noah’s number. She hadn’t bothered to save it to her phone, but she had the digits memorized from staring at them too intently all week. “Stop calling me!” she yelled at the phone before turning it off and jamming it in a dresser drawer. Noah could find someone else to jerk around and play mind games with. She was officially off the market.
Ten minutes later, someone was buzzing to be let into their apartment. Margot leapt from her bed and burst out the door of her room. Pointing a finger at Babs, she said, “If that’s Noah, do not let him in.”
It was too late. Babs’s finger was already on the button to buzz whoever it was into the building. “When are you going to stop doing things I don’t want you to do?” Margot demanded.
“I don’t know,” Babs said with a shrug. “Whenever you stop being an idiot, I guess.”
“Noah Donavon is a jerk. I do not want him in this apartment. Do you understand me?”
“No, I don’t understand you,” Babs fired back. “Because you won’t tell me what he did wrong.”
“He accused me of trying to cheat on my fiancé,” Margot snarled. “With him!”
“He what?” Babs made a face. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
There was a knock on their front door. “Oh, great,” Margot growled. “Tell him to go away.” She stormed back into her room and slammed the door, flinging herself on her bed.
Two seconds later, she heard Babs open their front door. Then she heard Noah’s warm, friendly voice. “I am going to kill her,” Margot grouched to herself, quickly darting from her bed to lock her bedroom door. That didn’t keep her from pressing her ear against it, but at least the door was locked.
“So Margot is here, then?” Noah asked. “I was kind of worried. She seemed pretty upset when she left the fundraiser.”
“She’s in her room, but I’m sure the door’s locked,” Babs told him. Margot could practically hear her roommate rolling her eyes.
“She told you what happened?” Noah wanted to know.
“Not exactly. I’m guessing you somehow thought she was engaged and then accused her of cheating on her fiancé?”
“I really feel like a jackhole,” Noah confessed. Margot pressed her ear to the door a little harder. “Margot’s great and smart and beautiful, and I should have just asked her about the ring, but instead I just shut her out.”
“How very guy of you,” Babs said dryly.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t explain Margot. She got really upset. I mean, it was an honest mistake, but she seemed… um… extremely unforgiving,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
“Aah,” Babs said.
“I’m going to kill her,” Margot whispered under her breath. “If Babs blabs, I’m going to kill her.”
“Before Margot took off for Nepal the last time, she had this boyfriend. Craig.” Babs said his name like he was something she’d found stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
Margot pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead. “That’s it. We are no longer friends; we are no longer roommates. None of it. I can’t believe she’s telling Noah about Craig.” She pressed her ear to the door again to catch more of the conversation.
“He was always accusing her of cheating on him or flirting with other guys. Stuff like that. Super-jealous jerk-face stuff. But then Margot finds out that the whole time they were together, he was actually cheating on her. He was just accusing her of cheating as a cover. He was totally gas lighting her.”
“Oh,” Noah said, quickly piecing it all together. “So when I…”
“Exactly.”
“I see… Wow. That really sucks.”
“You really should have asked her about the ring,” Babs told him. “I mean, does Margot really seem like the kind of person to pull anything sleazy?”
“No.” Noah let out a sigh. “I blew it. I guess the whole Selena thing really screwed with my head.”
“Selena?” Babs was trying to act unaware of the scandal.
“I’m sure you read the papers,” Noah said in a flat voice.
“You’re right. I was just trying to be polite,” was Babs’s reply.
“Okay.” Noah sighed again. “Is there any point in me trying to apologize, or should I just head out of here with my tail between my legs?”
“You could try apologizing,” Babs told him. “I’ve known her since freshman year in the dorms, and I’d bet you cash she’s listening to us right now.”
Margot jerked her head away from the door and scurried back to her bed.
“Margot?” Noah said. The proximity of his voice let her know he was just outside her door. “I’m the world’s biggest idiot, and I’m really sorry. I should have just asked you about the ring. It’s just…” He cleared his throat. “Uh… Babette? Do you mind maybe going into your room or something? I’m feeling a little awkward, here.”
“Fine,” Margot heard her roommate say, and a few seconds later, there was the sound of a door closing.
“Okay.” Noah started up again. “So Babs told me about Craig. Your first mistake was probably dating some guy named Craig, but we’ve all made stupid decisions.”
Margot muffled a giggle. He was right, but that didn’t mean she forgave him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about the ring. I guess I just got into a protective crouch instead of actually thinking it through. You see… Serena was the first time I ever said ‘I love you’ to anyone. You know, besides my parents,” Noah said, leaning his forehead against her door with a gentle thud. “I was in love with her. I was ready to marry her. And then I found out she was cheating on me. My manager called me up and told me not to look at the papers. Or go on the Internet. Or turn on any kind of entertainment news. It was pretty devastating.”
Margot sat up in bed. She could only imagine how awful that must have been. To find out you’re being lied to and cheated on was bad enough, but to have the whole world gossiping about it must have been humiliating.
“I really liked you, Margot,” Noah said. “An
d I really had a great time on our date. Hell,” he said with a rueful laugh. “You make a trans-Pacific plane flight fun. Even when you’re drooling on me.”
Slapping a hand over her eyes, Margot let out a small groan. She hadn’t told Babette about the drooling part, and she knew her roommate was most definitely eavesdropping.
“All I’m asking is for a second chance,” Noah continued. “To take you out, to take you dancing… I’ll fight some rabid raccoons for you if that’s what it takes.”
Margot cracked open her bedroom door. “I don’t know if I can date a celebrity,” she told him.
“Well, that’s good,” was his reply. “Because I’m not much of a celebrity.”
“I really appreciate you apologizing,” Margot began. “But—”
“One kiss.” Noah interrupted her.
“What?” she stammered.
“Let me have a do-over kiss from the other night, and if it’s no good, then I’ll get out of your life.”
“No…” she said indignantly, although he could tell that she was considering it. Images of his lightly calloused hands sliding down her body barged into her brain unbidden.
“Come on,” he said, nudging at the door a little. “Please?”
“I’m not going to just kiss you,” she told him, her face flushing. There was a loud thump from the next room, and Margot figured it was her roommate beating her head against the wall.
“Why not?” Noah wanted to know.
“Because you’re a jerk… And… just kissing you out of the blue like this would be, you know… awkward,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating. “I mean, the other night, we had set the mood. But now, it would just feel too…” She sought for the right world. “Formal or clinical or something…”
“Okay, fine,” he said. “But can you at least come out of your room so we can talk for a minute? Just for a minute.” He held his hand out toward her. “And then I swear I’ll leave.”
“Okay.” Margot relented, opening the door and taking his hand.
Noah tugged her toward him, looped his arm over her head so that she was caught in a tight spin, and then dipped her low to the ground. She was about to protest, but then had the good sense to keep her mouth shut.
Bending over her, Noah nuzzled her neck, sending shivers up her spine. “Is this a little more romantic?” he asked.
Before she could reply, Noah’s lips found hers, and a charge of lightning shot through Margot’s body.
Epilogue
“Coffee and toast?” Noah said, setting a tray on his king-sized bed.
Margot was still drowsy and tangled in his Egyptian cotton sheets. “You’ll spoil me,” she murmured.
“That’s the plan,” he replied, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I have some news, though. It’s good, but also kind of weird.”
“You don’t have to start filming early, do you?” Margot asked, feeling a small pout coming on. “They said they didn’t need you for another four weeks.” Noah sat down next to her on the bed, and she pushed him back into the pillows.
“You can still come with me, you know. Explore Belize. There are supposed to be some cool ruins. You could learn to scuba dive. They’ve probably got people in need. I’m sure you could find some.”
“I’m still thinking about it,” she said, snuggling down on his chest. She loved the smell of him, the feel of his muscles rippling under his skin. “I’ve got my work and…”
“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Noah said, disengaging himself so he could reach for a magazine that was sitting on the breakfast tray. “Look.” He handed her a copy of People.
Margot took one look at the cover, and her mouth fell open. “Ophelia Blain is in Nepal?”
“Yeah. Apparently she is trying to get the word out about slavery.”
“Slavery?” Margot couldn’t wrap her head around it.
“Yeah. Didn’t you know there are more slaves in the world today than at any other time in history?”
Margot shot her boyfriend an amused look before flipping the magazine open to the article. “I can’t believe she’s actually taking a stand,” she murmured, half to herself. “This is so great.”
“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Noah asked, tugging her back to recline against him. “I mean, she finds out about it, and three months later she’s on the cover of People acting like some great humanitarian. She probably doesn’t even give you any credit.”
“It’s not about taking credit,” Margot told him. “It’s about getting those girls some help. And Ms. Ophelia Blain is going to get them a lot more aid than I can.”
Noah kissed her neck and pulled her closer. “Have I ever mentioned that you have a fascinating brain?”
“You might have mentioned it,” Margot replied, flipping over so she could give him a proper good morning. “I think I remember you saying something, once.”
The End
Thank you for reading Cause Célèbre: A Feel Good, Do Good Romance. Sadly, the facts about slavery in this story are true; there are more slaves in the world today than at any other time in history and many of those slaves are women and girls forced into prostitution. I’m sure at this point you can feel the bile rising in the back of your throat.
The good news is that there are organizations out there fighting modern slavery. And that’s what inspired me to write Cause Célèbre. I will donate every penny I get from the sale of this book to worthy organizations like Not For Sale (www.notforsalecampaign.org) that are out there in the trenches fighting slavery ever day.
Now gird your bits because I’m going to ask you a big favor.
Ready?
Think of three women whom you love and are grateful to have in your life. And then send them a copy of Cause Célèbre. Yes, I’m asking you to spend $8.97 to help end world slavery. I know that could buy you a latte and a muffin, but it could also save a little girl from being raped in a brothel fifteen hours a day. You’ve got access to your Amazon account right now. Don’t deliberate—just send the gift of romance, and do a good deed in the process. How often do you get that kind of opportunity?
Did you send them?
Really?
You’re awesome!!! Take a moment to just enjoy the glow of doing good solely for the joy of doing good. Everyone talks about how amazing you are, and I really have to agree.
Hopefully, your loved ones will also share the book with more wonderful women.
Please remember to get the word out as well with Facebook, twitter, and your fabulous blog.
If you’ve gifted your three books (or even just one or two) then I think you deserve a treat. And what better treat than more romance?
The lovely and talented Lisa Scott has generously shared her romantic story, The Hot Girl’s Friend, as a reward for your doing good in the world.
The Hot Girl’s Friend is from Lisa Scott’s Flirts! series, Each book is composed of five Romantic Stories that features five contemporary romance shorts that stand alone, but also connect. It all ties up in a fab happy ending. Each story is 8,000 to 11,000 words in length or 53,000 words total. Perfect for your lunch break, workout, or kids' sports practice.
So, to thank you again for being so awesome and making the world a better place, here is The Hot Girl’s Friend:
“The Hot Girl’s Friend”
By Lisa Scott
© 2011 Lisa Scott Macdonough
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the Author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.
All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Can a plain Jane find love when her best friend is a curvy, blond man-magnet?
“The Hot Girl’s Friend”
By Lisa Scott
A night out with Miranda always ended in one of two ways: either she found this week’s love of her life right off the bat and I caught an early cab home for a night of popcorn and bad cable reality shows; or I spent the entire evening fending off the smitten males whose pheromones went on high alert the moment her big toe entered the room.
This night was going in the direction of option number two. I didn’t see any hot prospects at first glance. McGinty’s Bar was the place to be in Springfield, Massachusetts on a Saturday night. The place was packed with the crowd spilling onto the back patio to enjoy the warm summer night, and the music was thumping at a gotta-shout level. All eyes turned to the door when she walked in. A path cleared as six-foot-tall Miranda, platinum-blond hair hanging past her curvy hips, wiggled her way onto the dance floor.
I followed, because she couldn’t get her groove on without me. I’m a better dancer than she is and she steals all her moves from me. It’s true. I’ve got that going for me, at least—not that anyone notices her five-foot-four, dark-haired friend with the thick ankles. Her shadow certainly swallows me whole, but hey, not everyone wants to be in the spotlight. Suits me just fine.
We boogied to the hip song of the moment and soon enough, a few gutsy gals left the security of the scattered tables and joined us. Then the drunker of the men crowded the floor, probably wondering if they should shoot for the top and approach Miranda or pick one of us “lesser” girls—like they could flatter us into bed by flirting with us first. For the most part, men at bars are idiots. Newsflash, I know.
“You with the hot chick?” a short, curly-haired guy asked, bumping his hip into mine in some pretense of a dance move.
I bumped back hard enough that he had to catch his balance. “If you mean the tall blonde, yes, I am.”
