“What were you working on?”
I knew he was asking to be polite and make conversation, but I never shared my sketches with anyone. Never even talked about them.
“Nothing … just some dresses.”
“So, like fashion design?” he asked, picking up his glass of water and looking at me with those sweet velvety eyes.
He still had the glasses on, and they were doing funny things to my insides.
“Yeah, I, uh, like to design clothes. Just fooling around,” I said, hoping he’d take my answer and let it go.
“And do you actually make them? Like, sew them yourself and everything?” Noah asked, his tone sounding like he was sincerely curious.
“I can … I mean, I have,” I said, suddenly feeling anxious. “I’ve made a few things for myself, but it’s mostly just something I do for fun … for myself. I’ve never showed my pieces to anyone.”
Noah blinked and looked down at the book I was still clinging to, before his eyes once again met mine.
“Not even Helen? Don’t you both work in fashion?”
Okay, so he remembered her name. Not such a big deal, right? Except it felt like a big deal. It meant that Noah actually listened and retained the things we talked about. I think it took Jared months to remember Helen’s name.
“We do, but, no … not even Helen.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged and said, “I don’t know, I guess it feels too personal, if that makes sense. If I show it to other people, then they’re going to give their opinion, you know. And I’m not ready for that … It’s too personal to me, I guess.”
“Sure, I understand that,” Noah said with a nod. “I’ve had to publish articles and papers and am three quarters into a book. I know these things are important for my career and since I want to make tenure, I need to keep publishing, but some things are harder to share with the public than others. What you said about people needing to give their opinion, I agree with one-hundred percent. And I know they say that once you publish, the work is no longer your own, so you shouldn’t take the reactions personally, but that’s often easier said than done.”
His words settled over me like a blanket. I loved that he understood where I was coming from. My insecurities.
I was so pleased that I was about to break my own rule and shove the book toward him, but before I could do so a young woman wearing a short skirt and halter top stopped next to our table.
I glanced up and saw her shoot me a glare before she turned toward Noah with a pout and arched her back slightly, so her breasts were more prominent.
“Mr. Mason,” she said breathily, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
He looked up and momentary confusion crossed his features before the girl registered and he said, “Ms. Sinclair? What are you doing here?”
“I was grabbing something to eat and saw you, so thought I’d come over and say hi,” she said, widening her eyes and leaving her lips slightly parted.
I glanced at Noah to gauge his reaction, and when he simply looked annoyed, I bit my lip to keep from smiling.
“Ms. Sinclair, my office hours begin at three. I’d appreciate it if you caught me there or after class.”
She blinked and her shoulders seemed to sag.
“Okay, I guess, I’ll see you then.”
Noah nodded and turned his attention back to me.
Ms. Sinclair stood there for a few seconds, as if hoping he’d look up and realize what he was missing, but it was obvious in his mind their interaction was over.
When she walked away, I looked at him and asked, “Are all of your students in love with you?”
Noah’s eyes widened and he looked honestly flabbergasted.
“What? No … you sound like Trent. Ms. Sinclair is one of those students who’s falling behind and needs help, that’s all.”
“You’re adorable,” I said sunnily, laughing lightly as his expression turned baffled.
“Thank you … I think.”
12
Noah
“Suzy’s going to be fine, Charles. I know she is,” I assured my brother, even though I’d been in a cold sweat of fear ever since my mom had called me to tell me they’d taken Suzy to the emergency room.
She’d spiked a very high fever right before bed, and they hadn’t been able to bring it down with infant Tylenol or a cool cloth. Charles had called our parents and my mom had suggested they bring her to the hospital.
Suzy was so little; it was better to be safe than sorry.
Of course, as soon as they’d hung up, our mom had called me and now we were all at the hospital together.
Jamilla was back with Suzy and Charles had come out to let us know the doctor was with them and they were administering antibiotics. My brother had looked so upset that I felt I needed to say something to try and help.
My parents were sitting next to each other, holding hands and drinking coffee, while I’d been staring at the small television without really registering what I was watching.
“Thanks, Noah. I’m gonna head back. You guys really don’t have to stay. Suzy’s gonna be fine,” Charles said, but we all simply looked at him rather than protest.
There was no way any of us were leaving.
Once he was gone, I turned to my parents and asked, “Do you want anything from the vending machine?”
My mom shook her head, but my dad said, “Something salty.”
“You got it,” I replied, then left them to walk down the hall to where I’d seen the machines.
I was looking at my options when my phone gave a text alert.
It was Summer. I wasn’t a fan of texting, it felt like a dispassionate way to communicate, but I’d been making an effort with her.
I suddenly felt the urge to hear her voice, so rather than fumble out a reply, I called her.
“Hey,” she said warmly, sounding happy to hear from me, as she did every time I called.
It was really nice, comforting even, to have someone be delighted simply because I picked up the phone.
“Summer,” I managed, embarrassed when my voice shook.
“Noah,” she said, suddenly on alert. “Is everything okay?”
“I’m at the emergency room … It’s my niece. They say she’s going to be fine, but she’s so tiny … I guess I’m more shook up over it than I realized.”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry. But I’m happy to hear she’s going to be okay. You said she’s only around three months old?”
“She’ll be four months on Tuesday.”
“What hospital are you at?”
“General. She spiked a fever a few hours ago and they’re working on bringing it down. When my mom called to tell me … well, I’ve never felt that kind of fear before.”
I probably shouldn’t have called and there were probably rules about leaning on a woman you’d only recently started seeing about serious family issues, but hearing her voice was already making me feel better. Steadier.
“I’m sure. Are you there waiting by yourself?” Summer asked.
“No. My parents are here waiting with me and Charles and Jamilla are back with Suzy and the doctor.”
“That’s good. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Just talking to you has helped, so thanks. Now I’m going to grab some snacks out of this vending machine and hopefully her temperature will be back to normal soon.”
“Okay. I’ll pray for her.”
“Thanks, Summer. And thanks for listening.”
I hung up feeling lighter than I had only moments before.
After selecting some chips for my dad and a Snickers bar for myself, I grabbed the items out of the bottom and headed back to where my parents were waiting.
Forty minutes later, all I had left was an empty Snickers wrapper and I was trying not to nod off in the uncomfortable chair I was sitting on. When Summer rounded the corner, I thought she was a vision at first.
A gorgeous, casual version of the woman I’
d been seeing, with her blonde hair piled on top of her head and her body encased in some sort of silky track suit. Her face was free of makeup and looked scrubbed so clean it was shining, and in her hands, she carried a large box.
“Summer?” I asked, when I blinked and she was still standing in front of me, looking a little unsure of herself.
I quickly stood up and crossed to her. I couldn’t believe she was there, but somewhere inside of me I felt grateful and relieved to see her. Like a weight had been lifted for some reason. Maybe it had to do with her sunny smiles and easy nature, but the effect of seeing her was calming.
“Hi,” she said softly, her eyes darting to my parents and back again. “I wasn’t sure if you would want me to come or not, but I thought you may be hungry and need some support, so I decided to just do it.”
“I’m glad you did,” I assured her with a small smile. “Let me take that for you.”
“It’s burgers and fries for everyone,” she said as I took the box and placed it on the table by my parents. “Hi, I’m Summer.”
My parents both stood, and I was pretty sure my mom winked at me, before moving to embrace Summer.
“Hello, Summer. It was so thoughtful of you to bring food for us. Thank you.”
Summer’s cheeks pinkened at my mother’s praise. After my mother let her go, my father extended his hand to Summer.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Thank you, it’s wonderful to meet both of you, Mr. and Mrs. Mason. I’m so sorry about your granddaughter.”
“We appreciate that. Luckily, she’s going to be just fine. Hopefully we’ll be able to snuggle her soon. I know I won’t feel better until I see and hold her myself.”
I wrapped an arm around my mom’s shoulders and hugged her briefly.
“Thanks, sweetheart. Now let’s not let this food go to waste,” she said, before looking up at me and whispering, “Your girl is lovely, Noah.”
13
Summer
“Thanks so much for encouraging me to go to the hospital, Whit. It was the right decision,” I told her when she joined Margo and me at our table. It was Thursday night, and we were settling in to enjoy some delicious southern barbecue. “Noah’s family was so nice and seeing him really made me feel better.”
After speaking to Noah the other night, I’d been conflicted over whether or not I should go be with him at the hospital. I wanted to, but things between us were so new I didn’t know if he would want me there or if I would be overstepping.
I’d had an internal debate and finally called Whitney to get her opinion, which had been an emphatic “Go”!
Since that was what I’d wanted to hear anyway, I’d immediately grabbed my things and put in a to-go order at my favorite local burger place. When I’d walked into the waiting room and seen his face, I knew it was the right decision.
“Good, I told you you’d be welcome. When people are afraid and waiting in a hospital, it’s always comforting to know someone cares. He’d have to be a fool not to want you there,” Whitney said simply as she put her jacket over the back of the chair and sat down.
“I told her she should have followed him home and jumped him, given that extra bit of comfort,” Margo said with a grin, then shrugged. “She didn’t take my advice though.”
I laughed and said, “Margo, we are nowhere near that stage in our relationship.”
“Why the hell not?” she asked, sitting up in her seat and leaning forward. “How do you know you’re compatible, that you have chemistry and passion, if you don’t sample the goods? It would be horrible to start forming an emotional connection to Noah, only to find out he’s like a dead fish in bed.”
Whitney choked on her water as I shook my head.
“No, no way,” I argued. “We kissed … I felt sparks all the way to my toes and back. There’s no way he’s a fish, dead or otherwise.”
“If you say so,” Margo said, flopping back and taking a sip of her draft beer. “I’ve slept with guys who could kiss but had no idea how to please a woman in bed.”
“God wouldn’t be that cruel,” I assured her. “Noah is sweet, funny, and so adorable I could cry. There’s no way we won’t be compatible once we get to that point.”
“Yeah, Margo, don’t be such a spoil sport. Summer really likes Noah.”
“I’m not saying I hope he’s a dead fish, I’m simply giving her a head’s up that it could happen. I’m sure Noah will rock your world. He is a cutie. Sorry for disparaging his prowess.”
Margo ran a hand over her long sleek hair and flipped it over her shoulder.
“That’s okay, I know you’re looking out for me,” I said, giving her a sly glance. “I do have a way you could make it up to me, though.”
“Oh, no,” Margo replied. “I just walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
Whitney gave a soft laugh. “I believe you did.”
“What is it, sunshine?”
“Well, before I met Noah in person, I signed up for a speed dating social with True Love. I can’t cancel, because it would mess up their numbers and throw off the night for the other members, but, since I’m seeing Noah, even if we haven’t made any promises or anything yet, I really wouldn’t feel right attending.”
“So?”
“So, you’d really be helping me out if you went in my place.”
“Absolutely not,” Margo said with a grimace. “You know I am not about that dating life.”
“It’s not really dating. You have some cocktails and sit in a booth and the guys rotate every five minutes. You don’t really have to do anything at all, just sit there and meet a few new people. They’re totally fun and stress free, I swear.”
“Summer, you know I’d rather be dragged over hot coals than make small talk with a bunch of strange men looking for life partners.”
“They’re not,” I said with a chuckle. “It’s usually just guys who are looking to find a connection with someone. Just because they’re on the app doesn’t mean they’re looking for a wife.”
“Still sounds like a nightmare.”
“Please?” I asked, giving her my best puppy dog look. “I’ll owe you … big time.”
“Oh my gosh, don’t give me those eyes. Fine, I’ll do it. But trust and believe I will be calling in that favor. You won’t know when, you won’t know what, but it will happen.”
“Jeez, that sounds ominous,” I joked, before turning my full attention to Whitney and saying, “Now, fill us in on all the wedding prep.”
“You know The Castle?” she asked.
I nodded emphatically. The Castle was a beautiful venue for events. Some rich guy had built a castle for his wife in the twenties. It was up on a hill with beautiful grounds that included a vineyard. After they’d passed, their children had sold it and it had been converted into a commercial space. Now people could rent it for a myriad of things, as long as they could afford it.
“You guys booked The Castle?” I cried, practically vibrating in my seat with excitement.
“We did. The owners have been clients of Luca’s father for decades and they were able to fit us in in six weeks.”
“Six weeks?” I gasped. “That’s not enough time…”
“Mrs. Russo is a complete dynamo. You’d be surprised by how much she has set up and confirmed already. She’s like my own personal wedding planner.”
“Oh, well, that’s great,” I said, a little disappointed that Margo and I wouldn’t be tapped to help out with the wedding. Sure, I knew Stella was Whitney’s maid of honor, but since she was still a teenager, I’d been hoping we could get in there and be of some use.
“Actually, I was hoping you guys wouldn’t mind helping out with the shower and bachelorette. I wasn’t going to have either, but the Russos insisted. So, Stella wants to help plan the bridal shower, and Mrs. Russo is going to help her with that, but if you two wouldn’t mind working with Charlotte on the bachelorette party, I would really appreciate it.”
“We’d love to,
right, Margo?” I asked her excitedly.
“Of course, we’ve got you, girl,” Margo agreed, to which I clapped and said, “Yay!”
“Great, thanks. So really, everything is taken care of except for the dress. I’ve looked online and even allowed Luca’s mom to drag me to a few dress shops, but I haven’t found the one yet. I’m starting to wonder if it exists. I mean, I can’t be the only woman in my forties who is on her second wedding and doesn’t want something elaborate, right?”
I leaned down and put my hand in my purse, my fingers brushing against the spine of my sketchbook, and I tried to search for courage.
“Uh, I may have some ideas, actually,” I forced myself to say, even though it came out barely above a whisper.
“You do?” Whitney asked.
When I didn’t immediately answer, Margo prodded, “Well, show us. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a scrapbook of ideas.”
“Not a scrapbook,” I began, sitting back up and placing my book on the table.
“What’s that?” Whitney asked gently, her eyes on my face as if she could see more than I wanted her to.
“It’s my sketchbook.”
“We didn’t know you were an artist,” Margo said, leaning on the table and getting closer, her expression full of interest.
“Not an artist exactly, but I do like to design and sketch clothes.”
“That’s amazing, Summer, why haven’t you said anything?”
I gave a half shrug and said, “I’ve never actually shown any of my sketches to anyone. But I have made a few of the pieces for myself.”
“Really? Anything we would have seen?”
I ran my finger over the cover and said, “That gray cutout dress I wore to your last house party.”
“Wow, that dress looked fantastic on you,” Whitney said. “You’re obviously very talented. You shouldn’t hide that from anyone.”
“She’s right. That dress was fire,” Margo agreed.
I felt my eyes well as I took a deep breath and slowly pushed the book toward Whitney.
Trophy Wife Page 5
