Romance Through the Ages

by Amy Harmon

  As Breezy placed the silverware around the fourth plate, now a little worried, she asked, “What have you done now, Mom?”

  “Don’t use that tone with me. All I have done is to invite a nice young man to Sunday dinner with us.”

  “Oh, Mom, you promised. No more blind dates.”

  “I’m sure he’s not blind,” her father said over his newspaper.

  “Very funny, Dad. You know what I mean.”

  “Breezy, you just need to give certain people a second chance.” Her mother frowned at her. “Really. You are so unforgiving.”

  “Oh, no. Mom, you didn’t. Please tell me you did not invite Andrew North to dinner.”

  “Of course not, Dear.”

  Breezy let out a shaky breath. “Thank goodness for that.”

  “Not this week. Though Andrew is a delightful man and I hope you do accept his dinner invitation.”

  Surprised, Breezy said, “How did you know he invited me to dinner?”

  Her mother waved her hand. “Everyone knows he still has feelings for you, so why wouldn’t he invite you to dinner? He was never one to wait around long.”

  Or stick around long, either. Breezy was beginning to feel a little dizzy, something that happened regularly when she was around her mother, who was apparently going to invite Andrew for dinner sometime soon. So today’s surprise guest should be a good thing, right? Then why did she have such a bad feeling about it? “Just who did you invite?”

  “Whom, Dear. And I do expect you to sit here and visit with him and be civilized, Breanne.”

  “Whom did you invite?”

  “I can’t believe you never mentioned how handsome he is.”

  “Mom!”

  Her father lowered his newspaper, an exasperated look on his face. “Please do get to the point, Emily.”

  Her mother smiled dreamily. “That very nice Noah Drake.”

  Breezy rolled her eyes. “You mean the very nice man who fired me?”

  “He didn’t fire you, Dear. You quit.” She motioned toward Breezy. “And when he sees how wonderful you really are, he’ll realize what a mistake he’s made and hire you back. Or maybe he’ll want to date you. You are a lovely young woman.”

  Oh, no. She wasn’t going to be a party to this. “I’m getting a headache. I think I’d better go home now.” And she was getting a headache. Another regular occurrence when she spent too much time around her mother.

  “No, Dear. Take two aspirins and then finish setting the table. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes. And you will sit down to dinner and talk to him nicely.”

  Dad said, “Of course Breezy will be nice. She’s always nice.”

  Why did she let her mother do these things to her?

  “Yes, be kind, too.” Dad lowered his voice. “Kill him with kindness, Sweetie.”

  Slowly she smiled back. “Thanks, Dad. I will.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Drake, would you like some mashed potatoes?”

  Noah smiled at Mrs. Jones. “Please, call me Noah.”

  Breezy’s mother batted her eyes demurely. “Oh, please, then call us Emily and Arthur.” She motioned across the table from him. “And Breanne.”

  “It would be an honor.” He caught Breezy’s eye. She wasn’t as welcoming as she’d been when he’d first seen her just a few weeks ago. He realized how much he’d missed that warmth and he hoped that, by the end of the meal, she might have warmed to him again. He could turn on the charm when needed. He nodded at her mother. “And, yes, I would love more of your delicious mashed potatoes.”

  Emily passed the bowl to him. “How do you enjoy our town so far?”

  “Do you find it provincial?” Breezy asked in a sweet voice as she spooned some spicy green beans onto her plate.

  Emily looked at her daughter disapprovingly. “I’m sure he thinks no such thing.”

  Amused as always by Breezy, Noah said, “I think Aspen Grove is a delightful town.”

  “Dad,” Breezy said as she passed the bowl of beans to Noah, “Would you call Pollyanna provincial?”

  Noah nearly dropped the bowl of beans, fumbling it with both hands before setting it down on the table. All eyes on him. He smiled awkwardly. “Butter fingers, I guess.”

  Pollyanna? Oh, crap. Had she heard him refer to her as Pollyanna?

  Arthur, who seemed content to let the conversation swirl around him, taking it all in and saying little, quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you ask that, Breezy?”

  “No reason in particular. Just wondering.” Breezy looked at Noah. “What do you think, Mr. Drake?”

  She had heard him call her Pollyanna! She must have. His heart sinking, he said, “I think Pollyanna had many redeeming characteristics.”

  “Personally, I’ve heard Pollyanna wasn’t glamorous enough.”

  “Breezy, would you please pass the roast beef?” Arthur turned to their guest. “Noah, how are things at the station? Are people settling in yet?”

  Relieved to change the subject, Noah said, “They’re starting to, I think. Change isn’t easy for some people.”

  Breezy made a small snorting sound, but didn’t look up as she passed the platter of roast beef.

  “It certainly isn’t.” Arthur chuckled.

  Noah wasn’t sure where to go from here. If he’d known she could hear him, he’d never have said what he did.

  But at least, now that she’d reminded him, he realized why people loved her. Because she was like Pollyanna. Warm as sunshine and happy to be alive. He felt drawn to her, as well.

  He just wished she hadn’t turned off the Pollyanna warmth toward him. He missed it.

  He looked at her with new eyes. Pollyanna. He’d never thought of the positive attributes of the happy little girl. Everyone liked Pollyanna. Everyone liked Breezy. Even him, a jaded television news general manager. He was probably only a few years older than she was, but he’d gotten cynical where she’d stayed sweet.

  He liked sweet. He liked Pollyanna. Who knew?

  Breezy’s mother took a sip of water and then asked, “Breezy, don’t you start your new job tomorrow?”

  Noah felt an unwelcome stab of emotion. Jealousy. That was weird.

  A rosy flush lit Breezy’s cheeks. “Yes. I do.”

  Emily looked at her daughter. “I’m so glad you’ll be working with Andrew at his new store. He always did value you. Plus I know he’s hoping to rekindle your old romance.”

  Breezy flicked a glance at Noah. “Yes. He should be enjoyable to work with.”

  Another jab of jealousy. What on earth was wrong with him? And who was Andrew? “What type of business does he have?”

  Breezy played with her dessert spoon. “He’s starting a surfboard store called Surf’s Up. It’s going to be pretty amazing, actually.”

  Emily looked at Noah. “Andrew has been a surfer his entire life. He loves to surf, so this is a natural extension of his passion.”

  Noah studied Breezy, who was apparently another one of Andrew’s passions. “So you’re willing to support his dream?” Emphasis on his.

  She smiled broadly. “Might as well. Someone stole mine from me for the moment.”

  Emily’s eyes widened and her, “Breezy!” sounded shocked.

  “It’s true. I love weather.” Breezy smiled, first at her mother and then at Noah. “At least surfers love to know what the weather forecasts are going to be before they go out.”

  His breath caught for a second.

  Her dream was the weather? That’s why she had quit? She loved the weather so much that she’d quit her job when he’d moved her out of it into something else. He’d stolen her dream.

  He hadn’t looked at it like that. He’d thought he was taking care of her by not firing her, by giving her raises, but he hadn’t realized how much she really loved weather.

  Of course she did. She was a meteorologist. And he was an idiot.

  Breezy caught his gaze and he saw the pain in her eyes.

  He was relieved when she looked away.
He’d never stolen away someone’s dream before, not even as the Firing Squad.

  And not just anybody’s—he’d stolen Pollyanna’s dream. No wonder he was getting hate mail from the community, people who’d grown up watching this bubbly young woman share her passion with them.

  With Pamela, the passion was strictly monetary. But Breezy put her heart and soul into her forecasts, into telling her friends what weather was coming and how to prepare for it. And he’d offered her a job as his assistant. He was an idiot.

  He had to make this right. He would call Mr. Bentley, CEO of the parent corporation and occasional fishing buddy, as soon as Bentley returned from a long vacation in the Bahamas. He would help Breezy get back her dream—if not at his station, at least at one of Bentley’s other stations.

  Chapter Eleven

  When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure. —Alice Hoffman

  Monday, May 20

  “So how’s your first day of work?” Stephanie asked from the other side of Surf’s Up counter.

  Breezy slid the counter door closed. “We’re pretty busy getting ready for the grand opening. It’s fun seeing Andrew’s dream come to life here.”

  “Nice store.” Stephanie checked out Andrew and leaned over to whisper, “Cute boss.”

  Breezy smiled as she looked at Andrew’s handsome-as-sin face and heart-melting smile. He winked at her. “There’s no denying that.”

  “So are you going to date him again?”

  Breezy laughed as she turned back to her friend. “I’ve been wondering that myself. He keeps asking.”

  “You’d have adorable babies.” Stephanie ran a finger along the dragon on a highly polished surfboard. “This one’s pretty.”

  “He’s got more inventory coming in every day.” Breezy pulled up another shipping box and sliced through the tape to see what new merchandise was inside. Surfboard leashes. They would go on the empty rack sitting on the next counter. She picked up the box and motioned to Stephanie. “Over here.”

  Stephanie followed her. “Would you like to go to lunch with me Wednesday?”

  “Sure. Where?”

  “Candy’s.”

  Breezy nodded. “Hey, did you get more queries sent out on your book?”

  Stephanie nodded and followed her around the curve of the room. “Twenty more with another twenty going out this week. I’ve got all my fingers crossed.”

  “Must make it hard to type.”

  Stephanie picked up one of the leashes and hung it on the other side of the rack. “So have you heard the news about the emails?”

  Breezy paused. “What emails?”

  “My evil plan. Remember?” Stephanie twirled an imaginary villain’s moustache. “The emails to KWAC.”

  Breezy frowned. “People are actually sending them? I’m not sure I feel good about doing this.”

  “No, what’s funny is these are not all from the Chick Flick Clique. The whole town has been asking for you back. Without any prompting from us.”

  Andrew passed by and must have heard because he put his arm around Breezy’s shoulder. “They can’t have her back. She’s mine now.”

  Breezy rolled her eyes. “See what I have to put up with in a boss?”

  “Ha. That’s a good one. At least he’s not Pamela.”

  No, he wasn’t Pamela. Now Breezy had a whole new set of problems. Better tempered boss. Dangerously handsome. With a smile that had always melted her resolve in the past.

  As Andrew moved into the back room and Stephanie gave her a hug and said her goodbyes, Breezy wondered just how long she could keep herself from melting. Because she wasn’t sure that Andrew would stay in town. How long before his wanderlust set in again? She didn’t want to get close enough to him to be hurt again.

  She turned back to see him flash his smile at her again as he came out of the back room with two more boxes. “Glad you’re working here?”

  “Of course I am. Otherwise, I’d be unemployed,” she teased. Surprisingly, while she was looking at the heart-stopping smile of Andrew North, Noah Drake’s face popped into her mind. How interesting.

  Andrew smiled and carried the boxes across the store to where he was setting up another large display rack.

  He was one good-looking man and this store was a step in the right direction for him, showing he was maturing, but she wasn’t sure he could stay settled down for long.

  When he left town again, she didn’t plan on being on the receiving end of hurt a second time. She’d dated other men since Andrew, but he’d been the first man to really break her heart.

  So, no. Next time anyone asked, she’d have the correct answer ready. No, she was not going to date Andrew North again. Now to figure out a way to make him accept that.

  * * *

  Wednesday, May 22

  Three days later, Noah pulled his thoughts away from cute little Breezy Jones.

  Breezy with unexpected depth of intellect. A master’s degree in Atmospheric Science? Who’d have believed it?

  With a sigh, he pushed aside the thought. He wouldn’t be able to reach Mr. Bentley until Monday to see if he could get her a job in weather at any other of the parent corporation’s stations, and Noah needed to focus on work today, to talk to some disgruntled employees, to speak with the mayor, and to answer some more irate emails.

  He pulled up the latest one.

  Dear Mr. Drake and Station KWAC, I have been a long-time viewer of your news station and have enjoyed the wonderful experience of having the great tradition of Mr. Arthur Jones carried on by his delightful daughter, Breezy. I find the new weather person to be abrasive and scantily clad. Unless you bring back Breezy, I will be gone with the wind. Cindy A.

  He clicked Reply. Dear Cindy, I agree. Breezy is delightful. He stopped and deleted what he’d typed. He did think Breezy was delightful, but he still hoped the community would get used to seeing Pamela on the news. Their acceptance just wasn’t happening as quickly as he’d hoped. It had worked at the last two stations, so why not here? Bentley had guessed wrong this time.

  Noah’s cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw the call was his boss, Mr. Bentley, who must have returned from his vacation early. “Hello, Mr. Bentley.”

  “How are you doing, Noah?” The boss’s voice was gravelly but he sounded jovial enough.

  “I’m doing well, sir. How were the Bahamas?”

  “Good. And excellent. Hey, listen, son, I’ve just had a teleconference with some shareholders and those annoying bean-counters, and people are saying the ratings at KWAC are dropping. You want to tell me what you did there to lower ratings?”

  Suddenly Noah was not doing so well. His throat went dry. “The folks around here have traditions they object to changing.”

  “Then why change them?”

  “I was hoping to raise ratings,” Noah admitted.

  Bentley chuckled. “Didn’t work.”

  “No, sir. It hasn’t. Yet.”

  “Ever heard the expression, ‘If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’?”

  “I have.” He had, indeed, heard it, from Breezy Jones.

  His boss continued. “Tell you what. Whatever you did to their traditions, undo it.”

  “All right,” he said, and this was definitely a case of easier said than done.

  “What’s the main complaint of these tradition-loving folks?”

  “They don’t like Pamela. They want their original meteorologist back.” Noah didn’t mention that Bentley had insisted on the original change. “Liven things up.”

  “It’s sure livened up our phone lines. They’re ringing off the hook with folks asking for someone named Breezy Jones back. I’m assuming that’s your not-so-glitzy former meteorologist.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Put her back on-air.”

  “She quit. And I’m not sure she’ll come back.”

  “Sweeten the pot and get her back.” It was an order. “Do you understand?
”

  “Yes, sir. I will get her back.”

  “Good man. Have her cut her hair short, though. More like Pamela’s. An edgier look.”

  His heart sank at that. “Are you sure, sir?”

  “I’m sure.” Bentley’s voice was inflexible. He’d decided again.

  Noah sighed. “Do you have another spot for Pamela at another station? Or do you want me to move her into another job here?”

  “You keep her there for now.” Noah heard a woman’s voice in the background. Bentley laughed. “Gotta go. The wife’s calling me back to the beach. I’ll talk to you next week when I’m stateside again.”

  After their goodbyes, Noah tossed his phone back on the desk.

  Bentley had called during his vacation to chastise Noah? For something he had insisted Noah do? Well, he knew life wasn’t fair and this just proved it.

  Okay, he had his marching orders. Find Pamela a job other than weathercaster.

  And then do whatever it took to get Breezy Jones back to work.

  Humble himself, if need be.

  Beg.

  Grovel.

  He didn’t like groveling, but the thought of Breezy being back at the station where he could talk with her more often actually brought a smile to his face. He’d wanted to get her back into weather. That’s why he’d been waiting for Bentley to get back from his vacation. He just hadn’t expected to put her back on KWAC.

  Okay, this could work. He would hire Breezy back with just a few image changes. Maybe change her hairstyle or get her some additional makeup. But no more than two buttons undone. Pamela may be abrasive, but she definitely aced the Weather Bimbo look. He’d have to get Breezy to agree to some changes. And he’d give her a hefty raise. That ought to entice her back.

  Then, remembering that she had quit the last time he’d offered her a raise, he knew the weather job was what would bring her back. Her dream job.

  A slow grin formed. He felt pretty good about this move, about giving Breezy back her dream job.

  * * *

  The same day, Breezy settled into the café booth across from Stephanie. “I’m so glad you’ve sent off more queries.”