She gave her hair a practice toss and walked over to where Ben Fordham stood at the end of the order line. Okay, she was here. Now, what to say? “Hi.” Wow, that was brilliant.
He turned and smiled. “Noel. I don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
That was because when she was there, she tended to be invisible, hunched over her computer, doling out adventures to imaginary characters, missing out on them herself.
“You come here often?”
“I do.” She used to, anyway. She hadn’t been in much since she and Donny broke up. “They make the best lattes in town,” she added. Well, that was dumb. They also made the only lattes in town.
“What’s your favorite?”
Get flirty, Marvella commanded.
Get lost, Noel told her. She could do this. She wasn’t completely hopeless. She tossed her hair again. “I was going to ask you that. I’d love to buy you something to make up for dinner.” There. Well done. Jo would be proud.
“There’s nothing to make up for,” he assured her.
“Noel, I was going to call you.”
Noel turned to see Donny, the disaster ex-boyfriend, behind her. Great. Just what she didn’t need. “Donny, how are you?”
He shrugged. “I’m okay. I miss you.”
Which was why he hadn’t called her in six months. “Still writing?” Still using people?
“Actually, I’m working on a children’s book.”
That explained why he was planning to call her. She could see where this was heading and decided to detour. “Where are my manners? Ben Fordham, this is Donny Lockhart, my, uh...” User ex-boyfriend? No, that was a little too honest. “One of my writing friends.” They weren’t really friends but Donny was hard to label.
He looked at Ben suspiciously, as if Ben was some sort of threat. Which he could hardly be, since Noel and Donny weren’t dating anymore. “Are you a writer?”
“Nope. I remodel houses.”
“Oh.” Donny was underwhelmed. The line inched forward. “So, Noel, how about lunch tomorrow? I want to tell you about my new book idea,” he continued, oblivious to the fact that she’d been talking to Ben.
Who was standing right there with a curious smile on his face.
“Gee, Donny, I’m pretty busy these days.”
Donny frowned. “With him?”
Noel could feel her cheeks flaming. “With life. Aren’t you seeing someone?”
“I was. She left me for a hack mystery writer.”
They were at the order counter now. “Hi, Ben,” said Ginger the barista. “Noel, we haven’t seen you in a while.”
Yep, come here all the time. Noel’s cheeks kept on burning. “I’ve been a little busy lately. Can you give me an eggnog latte? And put whatever he wants on my bill, too,” she said, nodding at Ben.
“While you’re at it I’ll have a large Americano,” Donny put in, and Noel frowned at him.
“They’re all on me.” Ben said and took his wallet out of his jeans back pocket.
“Hey, thanks,” said Donny.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Noel told Ben. “I wanted to pay.”
“Never say no when people want to do nice things for you,” Donny advised her as they moved toward the pick-up counter. “So, how about lunch tomorrow?”
“Donny, I really am busy.”
“You can’t be that busy. Everyone knows you have no life,” Donny said with a scowl.
The flame spread from her face clear up into the roots of her hair. Any minute now someone was going to take a fire extinguisher to her. What had she ever seen in him?
“She’s busy with me,” Ben said and slung an arm around Noel’s shoulders, stirring up all kinds of excitement in long-dormant body parts.
Donny looked completely perplexed. And irritated. “You’re with him?”
“People move on, dude,” Ben said and handed Donny his drink. “Good luck with the book.” Then, to Noel, “I see a table over there.” Before she could say anything he’d put her drink in her hand and was steering her to a small table by the window. “Nice meeting you, Donny,” he called over his shoulder.
“Yeah. You, too,” Donny called after him. He didn’t sound as though he meant it.
“Thanks,” she said to Ben as they sat down at the table.
“Glad to help. So you and that guy were...”
“We went out for a while.” It had made sense at the time.
“Why? Wait, don’t tell me, let me guess. He had potential. That’s usually why women go out with guys like that.”
“Everyone has potential,” Noel said in both Donny’s defense and her own.
Ben nodded slowly. “So, you’re one of those women who believes the best of everyone?”
“I try to.”
He regarded her over the rim of his mug. “Even house-flippers?”
“Most of all, house-flippers. They understand potential. They also understand how a person can fall in love with a house.” That was subtle. Not.
He set down his mug. “Yes, they do. Noel, I’m sorry you didn’t have the money to buy the house. I really am.”
This sounded like the beginning of a speech she didn’t want to hear. “I know. And I appreciate the fact that you’re open to listening to my suggestions for how to keep its character. Can I buy you dinner tonight so we can talk about them? It’s Peppermint Blizzard season at Dairy Queen.”
“Are you trying to bribe me again?” he teased.
She cocked her head and tried a flirty smile. “Maybe.” Yes, of course.
“I can’t.”
Her flirty smile faltered. “Oh.”
“I have to go over to my mom’s.” Just when she was feeling that all was lost he said, “How about tomorrow night?”
She was so happy with this turn of events that she forgot to cock her head or toss her hair. “That would be great,” she said and gave him a plain, old Noel smile.
“You have a great smile.”
“I do?” She’d always thought her smile was rather average.
“Come on. I’m sure guys tell you that all the time.”
“Not really. I guess not everyone sees my potential.”
He shook his head. “Cute and funny.” Then he sobered. “I wish we’d met under different circumstances.”
That statement didn’t bode well. It pretty much said, “I like you, but I’m still going to sell your house out from under you for an obscene profit.” She tried to think of something clever to say in response but her brain was taking a nap. Even Marvella was strangely silent. Noel attempted to bring back the flirty smile; it refused to make an appearance and her normal one wasn’t up to the task.
He felt the awkwardness, too. He cleared his throat. “I’d better get going. I have to check on a house I bought over in Bremerton.”
She nodded. All was lost. Why bother with burgers?
There’s a winning attitude. Marvella was back. Don’t give up. It’s not over till it’s over.
True. She had nothing to lose. “I enjoyed visiting with you,” she said. No lie. She had until the subject of the house came up. If only they’d met under different circumstances. If only he didn’t have that one character flaw of buying houses someone else was in love with, she could so fall for him.
“Same here,” he said and downed the last of his drink.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at Dairy Queen,” she said, working hard to inject fresh enthusiasm into her voice.
He nodded. “Six o’clock.” Then he left.
She watched him go, feeling let down and miserable. Ben Fordham liked her—just not enough to lose money for her.
There were some women men would do anything for, including lose money. What was their secret?
“Are you seeing him?”
She broke out of her reverie to find Donny sliding into the seat Ben had vacated. And what was it about other women that they attracted men like...Donny?
“Oh, Donny, go away,” she said in disgust.
“What?” he demanded, clueless.
On second thought, she’d go away. She took her latte and left the coffee shop.
She needed to talk to someone. Riley was teaching, so she couldn’t call her. Anyway, Riley wasn’t doing any better at managing men than she was. What she needed was an expert.
Jo. Jo had always had boys trailing after her in high school and beyond. Cool attitude, hot looks—she had it all together. Noel parked in the Pineland Supermarket lot and put in a call, hoping Jo might have a minute.
“Mikey’s about to wake up. You’ll have to talk fast,” Jo said.
“I need help.”
“The clothes aren’t working?”
“It’s not the clothes. They’re great. It’s me.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“That’s what I want to know. I saw Ben Fordham again. I don’t think he’s going to budge on making it affordable for me to get my house.”
“What a turd,” Jo muttered.
“He’s not really,” Noel said. And when, exactly had she changed her opinion about the man? “He’s just a businessman.”
“Who’s ruining your life? Noel, are you falling for this guy?”
Maybe. “No. Look, I need to find a way to make him want to help me more than he wants to make money.”
“Good luck with that.”
“What is it about some women that makes men willing to do anything for them?”
Jo laughed. “That’s only in books.”
“Yeah? What about you? Guys have always tripped all over themselves to do what you wanted.”
“Tell that to my husband,” Jo said irritably.
“Come on, I’m serious. What have you got that I haven’t?” Besides blond hair, style, a husband and a baby.
“Are you asking me what I think you’re lacking?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“Confidence,” Jo said. “You need to practice walking into a room like you own it. When you want something tell yourself, ‘I deserve it,’ because, Noel, you do. You’re pretty and sweet and kind-hearted and you need to appreciate yourself a little more. If you don’t, who will? Don’t let people turn you into a carpet. Decide what you want and then go about making it happen. That’s all there is to it.”
“You make it sound so easy,” Noel said wistfully.
“It may not be easy for you, but it’s what you need to do. Oh, the baby’s crying. That’s the end of the shrink session for today.”
“Thanks,” Noel said.
“I’m only telling you what’s true. You’re special, Noel, you really are. Now start acting like it.”
Special. Was she really? She pulled down the car visor and studied herself in the mirror. She wasn’t bad-looking. Why on earth didn’t she have more confidence?
Oh, yeah, high school. She could still remember how her tummy churned when she’d tried to talk to boys she was crushing on, could still feel the terrible sting of rejection when the boy of her dreams turned her down after she asked him to the spring dance. She remembered how nervous she’d get when a date wanted to kiss her, sure she’d mess the whole thing up. She invariably did. She’d only had a couple of serious boyfriends, and Donny Lockhart had been one of them.
But she could change. She was going to be more confident. She got out of her car and made her way into the grocery store. Confidently.
At the row of grocery carts at the entrance, she was just reaching for one when a fifty-something woman she’d seen in the store before snagged it and wheeled it off. How rude! She scowled at the woman’s retreating backside, commandeered the next cart and followed her inside. Designer jeans, boots, an expensive jacket and cashmere scarf. Diamonds in her ears. Perfectly highlighted, straightened, chin-length hair. Well-off and entitled. She was probably the kind of woman men would do anything for.
Noel thought of her own sweet mom, a little pudgy with streaks of gray in faint auburn hair. Mom never wore designer jeans. Her daughters were grown-up now but she still wouldn’t spend that much money on herself. She especially wouldn’t now that Dad was laid off. Was Mom the kind of woman men would do anything for? Maybe not, but Dad would, and that was all she needed. “It’s what’s in your heart that counts,” she liked to say. So how to balance a good heart and confidence? Jo managed to do it.
Still mulling over what Jo had told her, she wheeled her own cart to the produce department. She was selecting some apples when she realized the rude, cart-stealing woman was standing only a few feet away, inspecting oranges and talking on her cell.
“Yes, that girl would love to get her acrylic nails into him.” Pause and a frown. “Of course I’m aware he’s a grown man, but he’s still my son and you know he has a real blind spot when it comes to women. Thank God they only went out a couple of times. He’s done. I told him what a disaster she’d be.”
Yikes! Noel couldn’t help wondering what was wrong with the mystery woman who wanted to get her nails into this woman’s son. She was probably breathing.
“I’ve got another call coming in. Talk to you later,” the woman said. Her voice turned to syrup as she answered the new call. “Ben, dear. Are you staying for dinner tonight after you pick up Timmy?”
Ben? Noel blinked. No, couldn’t be. The Ben she was dealing with wouldn’t have this lizard for a mother.
“Good, because I need you to fix that leak under the sink.”
There had to be more than one Ben in a town of almost ten thousand who knew how to fix leaks.
“And bring your tool belt. I need you to put up a shelf for me in the laundry room.”
And there had to be more than one Ben in a town of almost ten thousand who owned a tool belt.
If there wasn’t, and if he really was as hard-hearted as his mother... Okay, Noel was so not going to think about that right now.
Chapter Eleven
Noel was loading her groceries into the car when her sister called. “I’m going over to Mom and Dad’s for dinner and to talk about wedding stuff. I thought you’d want to be there since you’re my maid of honor.”
Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. Was that going to be her? She hoped not. “Sure,” she said. She did want to be there. Even though her own love life was nothing to write about, she was still happy for her sister.
She got to her parents’ place to find Mom putting the finishing touches on a beef stew. “It smells great,” she said, kissing her mother’s cheek.
“Just leftover pot roast and some veggies and gravy,” Mom said.
Which would, of course, be perfectly seasoned and served with homemade, fluffy herbed biscuits. Mom could have been a chef.
And Noel could have been...the person who enjoyed the chef’s creations. Cooking wasn’t her forte. She’d confirmed that yet again when she’d tried to make dinner for Ben Fordham. Mom had tried to pass on her culinary gift, but finally gave up when it became apparent that her daughter would rather have her nose in a book than over a simmering pot.
Aimi had been the star of the kitchen, and tonight she was bringing a salad, which Noel knew would be full of yummy extras like pomegranate seeds and bacon bits.
She put her offering (two bottles of sparkling cider) in the fridge. “Where’s Daddy?”
“In the den, checking out help-wanted ads.”
“I hope something shows up for him soon.”
“It will,” Mom said, sounding completely unruffled.
She loved her mother’s positive attitude. If only more of it had worn off on her.
A moment later her father wandered into the kitchen. “I thought I heard our girl,” he said, giving Noel a hug. “How’s Marvella doing?”
“Oh, she’s busy,” Noel said and left it at that. Best not to share that Marvella was spending more time in her head these days, counseling her, than she was on the computer screen. People who weren’t writers tended to get concerned when you talked about hearing voices in your head.
Daddy beamed. “Don’t we have the most talented daughter?” he said to Mom.
“I think you might be a little prejudiced,” Noel told him.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. One of these days your name will be a household word, just like Dr. Seuss.”
If only it already was. Then she’d have been able to buy her house. She kept that to herself, too. Her parents had enough to worry about. They didn’t need to hear how her dream house had gotten away from her.
“Isn’t it exciting about Aimi and Dan?” Mom said, probably for the twentieth time since Aimi had gotten engaged.
“Yes, it is,” Noel agreed.
“I’m glad they want a church wedding,” Mom continued.
“I was hoping we could pay them to elope,” Dad joked. He opened the fridge. “Looks like elves came and left us some fancy drinks.” He held up one of the bottles of cider. “Would you like some, princess?”
Princess. She loved that nickname, loved that her father thought she was special. “Sure.”
He poured all three of them a glass. “Here’s to Marvella making you a fortune in the New Year so you can buy that house.”
Now that it was about to be fixed and flipped, she’d probably need a fortune. She tried to smile, gave up and took a quick sip of her cider.
Another few minutes, and her sister arrived on the scene. She had the same red hair as Noel and a perfect face. Perfect figure. Perfect outfit, too, Noel observed, taking in the red coat, black leggings and boots. Like Jo, Aimi had flair.
Yeah? Well, you’ve got me, Marvella told her.
Yes, she did, and when it came right down to it, she was fine with that. She liked making up stories, enjoyed the creative process. She was happy being who she was.
Most of the time. Still, was it wrong to want more than a career she loved, to want a good man and a child of her own to read her stories to?
Three Christmas Wishes Page 13
