Unforgettable You (Starlight Hill Series Book 4)

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Unforgettable You (Starlight Hill Series Book 4) Page 5

by Bell, Heatherly


  “Thank you!” Genevieve sat across from Gran. “Don’t forget, Wallace is coming over to fix your sink, remember.”

  “The sink? What’s wrong with it?” Diana asked.

  “It’s no big deal,” Gran said. “It’s just old.”

  Diana made a mental note to do a quick inspection of anything else in her Gran’s house that might need repairing. An old and falling in on itself house was just one more reason Mom could give for Gran to move in to a nursing home. “That’s okay. We can hire someone.”

  “I don’t hire repairmen, dear,” Gran said. “That’s when they come in and case the place.”

  For what? Old issues of Good Housekeeping?

  “Wallace doesn’t mind at all,” Gen said.

  “Okay. Thank him for me. I really do appreciate you looking in on my grandmother. You’re very sweet,” Diana said. “I owe you.”

  Genevieve waved her hand dismissively. “My pleasure. We’ll have to get someone to show you around town. I mean, you know the place but you’ve been gone for a while. You need to get reacquainted. We got a movie theater two years ago.”

  “Thanks, but that’s not really—”

  “If you’re going to be here all summer…” Gen said. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Diana broke up with her college boyfriend a few months ago,” Gran said.

  Yes, that was her story and she was sticking to it. She broke up with Bradley, not the other way around. Six years is a long time, Diana. If we were going to get married we’d have done it by now, but I’m just not feeling it.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I can fix you up with a local guy. It would be fun!”

  Diana choked on a piece of her roll. She’d thought that her Mom, who had weddings on the brain twenty-four seven and in particular, a concern that her daughters might not ever have one, was bad enough. Diana couldn’t answer Gen because her mouth was full of gooey cinnamon sugar clogging her throat. She shook her head instead, then coughed and chewed. Dating, of all things, was not going to happen. This town was bad luck. Her dates tended not to show up in this town.

  Gran patted Diana’s hand. “It would be good for you to get out there, and have some fun with the young people.”

  Gran said ‘the young people’ like they were all in a nineteen fifties movie with jukeboxes, roller skates and big circle skirts. Young people hooked up, and Diana was not hooking up.

  “I’ll be on the lookout for just the right guy,” Gen said. “I’m new at this matchmaking thing but I have a good feeling about it.”

  “Perfect! And make sure he’s tall,” Gran said as though she were ordering off a menu, “Because my Diana’s statuesque. I’ll never forget that high school senior prom photo of you, dear, and the little man next to you. It’s tough being a big woman.”

  Diana swallowed quickly before Gran had her married off and had named her firstborn. “Okay, listen, both of you.” Diana reached for her mug of coffee and took a swallow to ease the cinnamon down. “I’m not going to have any time to date. Anyone.”

  Gen and Gran exchanged looks. Both spoke at once. “Anyone?”

  “No one. I have to help Gran get this place into tip-top shape before my mother comes out to visit next month. I’m going to find myself a place to live and a job.”

  “What about after that?” Gen asked.

  After that? She hadn’t gotten that far yet, but Gen didn’t need to know that. “Tell you what. We can talk again after I get all that done.”

  “Good, because I have just the guy in mind. Scott, my brother-in-law,” Gen said. “He’s still single, believe it or not.”

  “Scott! And he’s tall, too,” Gran clapped her hands and turned to Diana. “At least six three. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it!”

  Of course, because being tall was her one and only requirement for a mate. “I’m not dating anyone,” Diana repeated slowly. Least of all him. She was fairly sure that Scott wouldn’t want to date her, either, unless he was doing it for his good guy image.

  “I mean for when you are,” Gen said.

  “Why can’t he get his own date? I’m pretty sure all he has to do is walk out the door and the women would just fall in his path.” Diana licked some icing off her finger.

  “They do,” Gen said. “But he’s picky.”

  “I’d love to, but even after I get all that done, I won’t want to leave Gran alone.”

  Gran scowled. “Don’t let me stop you. I want you to have fun. And for the love of Pete, do you think I need a babysitter?”

  “Oh no, Gran,” Diana protested, realizing her mistake. “I didn’t mean that.”

  “Then you’ll go out with Scott when you’re ready to date. It’s settled.” Gran said, and patted her lips with a napkin.

  It was not settled. Diana stared from Gen to Gran, words failing her. Fine, she’d let them set her up on a date with Scott. And maybe then she’d do what he did to her all those years ago—never show up.

  ***

  Diana had to find an apartment and a job in this little town. She’d been scouring the paper daily and found two job openings: a school crossing guard and the shampoo girl at a salon someone had the nerve to name the Curl Up and Dye. Short terms rentals weren’t any easier to find because surprise: there were no apartment units built in Starlight Hill. Just a smattering of Victorian homes across town that had been split up into tiny postage-size units. Of course, only one was available.

  While Gran napped, Diana scheduled an appointment to see the unit, and one for Gran to have a complete check-up and physical. She then rifled through the paper again.

  She was getting desperate because Mom had called several times and asked about Gran, always ending the conversation by asking which nursing homes seemed best. But Diana had to change the subject every time because she hadn’t checked out nursing homes. She flipped through pages of bake sales, bingo nights, church bazaars and wine tasting events. Saw something about a firefighter calendar. They were actually going to make one of those classic calendars women all over the country loved to drool over. It was for some local charity called Vineyards for Literacy. Of course Scott would be on it, probably half naked. Well, that would be something. She’d pay to see that.

  Taking a break, Diana went outside to check Gran’s mail and found a package addressed to her on the front step. She opened it up, and this time there was a pair of flannel pajamas inside with a note:

  I’ve been happily married for twenty years. Three kids and I always wear flannel to bed. Think about it.

  At this rate she would soon have an entirely new wardrobe. Once upon a time she might have let something like this hurt her feelings but no more. Women in this snarky little town had way too much time and access to pajamas on their hands. If she could have one minute alone with these cowards who wouldn’t even face her, she’d…she’d…well, she’d probably just apologize and explain that she already had a perfectly good robe.

  But then again, it was possible that all the clothing might have even been sent by the same bitter, whiny, lingerie-hater.

  Diana’s cell phone rang and she didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Hey,” a deep sexy male voice said on the other end of the line. She recognized Scott immediately. “Gen gave me your number.”

  “Oh, hey Scott.” Speak of the devil. Why had her heart started to race? The man meant nothing to her. Nothing at all. For one terrible moment, she worried that he was calling to ask her out on a date, at Gen’s insistence, as a favor to her. Be kind to the new girl in town, Mrs. Paulsen’s granddaughter. Take her out and show her around. She’s lonely, the poor spinster. She didn’t need any more favors from him. Saving her life had been enough of a favor.

  This good guy image was not at all the way she remembered him. He’d been wild, rangy and unpredictable. That unpredictable part she’d seen up close and personal. To a sixteen-year-old virgin who’d never even kissed a boy before, Scott had been more than a little bit intriguing. She wondered wh
en and why he’d decided to become Mr. Wonderful and everybody’s best friend.

  “Wanted to let you know the lieutenant’s been trying to get some of those videos down.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Kinda doubt we’ll get ’em all down.”

  “Sure. But thanks for trying.” Check her out being all nice to the guy who couldn’t remember he’d stood her up once.

  “Yeah,” he said gruffly. “Hey, I’m sorry it happened.”

  His apology was unexpected. She’d been a little unfair in assuming he’d had anything to do with the video. Blame it on residual hostility and the fact that she currently hated the male species. She’d work on that. “It’s not your fault.”

  She heard a siren in the background. “Gotta go,” he said and hung up.

  And as though she sensed some sort of disturbance in the universe, Mom called. “Hi, Mom.”

  “I haven’t heard from you.”

  Okay, so skipping the preliminaries. “What do you mean? I text you every day.”

  “Your little texts about lunch and the bakery in town are not what I’m concerned with.”

  Leave it to Mom to send her out on a job she should be doing herself, and then blame her for not getting it done fast enough. “Actually, I was about to call you. I think Gran is fine and I know she doesn’t need to go in a home. You’d be surprised. She cooks me breakfast every morning. She hasn’t left the stove on. And she seems fairly healthy.”

  “What about the hoarding?”

  “Don’t worry, we’re getting organized.”

  “You better mean throwing away. I’ll believe that when I see it. Otherwise she’s fine?”

  “Better than fine.”

  “Good to hear because it’s a hardship having you gone all summer. I could use you at the shop. Mandy doesn’t know how to talk to the brides. She’s got them reconsidering taking their vows. I need to keep her far, far away from my brides. Speaking of which, You-know-who came in the other day looking for alterations.”

  Un-believable. Diana didn’t even think Tiffany had that kind of nerve. The woman had been their client, shopping for a wedding dress before she had a fiancée, and had chosen an Italian designer satin gown with a sweetheart collar that cost approximately a year of Diana’s salary. Tiffany had met Bradley once, when he’d been in the store waiting for Diana. Once was all the two needed. A month later Tiffany had both a wedding dress and a fiancée.

  Further proof the bridal boutique was bad luck for Diana, or maybe just weddings in general. And romance. And men.

  “She didn’t. Please tell me you turned her away.”

  “Of course I did. You don’t just steal my daughter’s fiancée and then show up and expect me to alter your dress! Even though, honestly, I could use the business. And it’s such an easy job…she’s lost weight so she needs it taken in. Do you know she’s using the same dress she bought from us? It would be okay to do just do a small job for her, wouldn’t it? And I’d charge her three times the rate I normally do?”

  “Mom!”

  “Not that I would do it, even if I’m on my last dime.”

  Thank God for that. “Mom, I’ve been thinking. It’s too bad none of us live closer to Gran. That way she wouldn’t have to move at all. We could just look in on her.”

  “I’ve tried to get her to move out here with me, but she won’t have any of it.”

  “Of course not. This is her home. She loves it here.” And what was not to love? Most of the people were nice, the town small and postcard picture perfect, the bakery top-notch. Of course, they had The Wine. People came from all over the world for that.

  “I can’t very well move the shop out of Los Angeles now. You know how hard I’ve worked to establish myself, my brand…”

  Diana was forced to listen to Mom go on for another five minutes. Not like she hadn’t heard it all before. The running joke in her family was that Alyssa Mulvaney was literally ‘married’ to her work since the divorce.

  “Okay, Mom. I get it. I’m just trying to think of all options.” Her fingers drummed over the newspaper. “I’ll see you next month. Everything’s going to be great, you’ll see.”

  “Your sister wants to talk to you,” Mom said and handed over the phone.

  Diana heard Mandy’s hushed tones. “Mom doesn’t know, don’t worry. I think a new video of you pops up every day. People are so creative. You’ll never get this video down.”

  “This should have happened to you. You’d find a way to sell tickets. This is the worst thing that could have happened to me.”

  “No, the worst thing would have been dying of smoke inhalation.”

  Diana groaned. “Right, but I didn’t die so now I have to die a slow death. Of embarrassment.”

  “Oh c’mon! You looked great in that video. Look at it this way, it could have been worse.”

  Funny, she couldn’t think of anything worse.

  “How many times have you tortured yourself by watching it?” Mandy asked.

  “A couple of times.” Lying. She’d watched about a dozen times. Different versions set to different music themes. People generally had way too much time on their hands, but she had to admit some of them should be working in a Hollywood studio and not goofing off on the Internet.

  “So what’s this firefighter dude like? Because from here all I can see is about a hundred degrees of hotness.”

  “Yeah,” Diana said, an image of Scott’s buns of steel headlining her thoughts. “He looks like he does in the video.”

  “Wow. So are there any…you know…possibilities?”

  “You wanted me to write about sex, not have sex!” Right now she was doing neither, and getting in a fouler mood by the minute.

  “All right! But you know, maybe having some might help you write about it? I would call it research.”

  “Of course you would. Anyway, I’m working on getting the video down.”

  “It’s impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible.” It was her mantra these days. She’d find a job and an apartment in a town where there were no jobs or apartments, get Mom to see that Gran didn’t need to move into a nursing home, learn to enjoy writing again, and get this damned video down.

  Diana hung up with Mandy and, like a fly drawn to a bug zapper, she brought up the video. She found one she hadn’t seen before, as if maybe there had been more than one person taking video that night. It was spliced together with video she’d already seen of Scott carrying her out of the motel, but this one had a moment which zoomed in on his face.

  It was a good face, too, all hard inherently male angles. Only a moment in time, but the video had managed to capture Scott, his brows knit together, mouth set in a grim straight line. He’d barely remembered her, but seemed more concerned for her welfare than Bradley had been in six years of dating. But again, this was what Scott did. Save people. She was nobody special to him.

  He still didn’t remember.

  ***

  The next morning, Diana left the house for some more of those cinnamon rolls from Gen’s bakery, before Gran woke up and tried to cook breakfast again. Diana was hooked on them, and near the shop nearly had a Pavlovian response to the rolls, her mouth salivating at the memory. Inside, she waited in line along with the rest of the customers.

  A couple of women that she didn’t know smiled in recognition, and Diana did a little self-conscious wave before she moved up to the front of the line.

  “Hi, Diana!” Genevieve sang out. “What can I get for you?”

  Did she really have to ask? Hadn’t it been clear that Diana would have signed over her firstborn child for another cinnamon roll? “Um, yeah. So maybe a few more of those cinnamon rolls? You know how Gran likes them.”

  Gen didn’t even blink. “Coming right up.”

  “And also throw in some of the Bundt cakes.” Diana paid and turned, nearly running into Ophelia. “Nice to see you again.”

  “You as well. Can I talk to you for a minute?” Ophelia asked. �
��After I get my order in?”

  “Okay.” Diana moved to the side, and waited as she watched Gen fill orders. Genevieve had a nice little business going here. Not only that, it would seem she truly loved what she did. Wasn’t that what everyone on the planet wanted? To do what they loved and to feel that it mattered.

  Why did my dreams have to be so complicated?

  She was stuck in the middle of counting how many rejections she’d received over the years, the ones that had gone with the fire, and wondered if they could have papered an entire wall or only half of it when Ophelia re-joined her.

  “Follow me to my office?” Ophelia asked. “It’s just around the corner.”

  “I have to get back to Gran…” Diana had no clue what Ophelia wanted from her, but she’d bet it had to do with something Diana didn’t want to do.

  “It will only take a minute, and I think you’re going to be quite interested.”

  “All right, but I can’t stay long.”

  The mid July morning had already begun to heat up the day and a few people were out pushing baby strollers, walking their dogs. By noon, everyone would retire inside to their air conditioned offices or homes, swimming pools, or the nearby lake. Diana would probably be tackling the inside of Gran’s scalding hot aluminum shed today and sorting through memorabilia, yarn and old coupons. Good times. She followed Ophelia a couple of blocks down Main Street to the Chamber of Commerce offices situated in a brick-stone building with a large flag in the front. The name placard on Ophelia’s office door read Ophelia Lyndstrom – President, Chamber of Commerce. The years were listed too, and it appeared she’d been president for the past decade.

  Diana sat in the chair opposite the desk, and set her box on her lap. She didn’t want these puppies getting too far away. If Ophelia would get on with it, Diana could say a very kind ‘no, thank you’ and be on her way. She had to get back to Gran, eat her roll and then pack and organize some more boxes of Gran’s junk. Look for a job and an apartment. Maybe take a nap later.

  “They’re addictive, aren’t they?” Ophelia glanced at the box on Diana’s lap.

 

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