Authors: Darlene Panzera
Love at Last (4 page)
The man’s bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement, making her feel a far cry from the graceful, young woman who taught ballet.
“Wrong time of year for a wedding,” she replied, brushing off the snow.
“I was driving behind you when your car went off the road,” he said with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Noelle glanced up the slope toward his parked vehicle. “Thanks for pulling over. I didn’t see the stretch of ice until it was too late.” She extended her hand. “I’m Noelle Petersen.”
“Robert Fields,” he said, a sudden gleam dancing in his warm blue eyes. “And these two goofs,” he added, indicating the dogs and ruffling each of their heads, “are Casper and Shadow.”
For one endless moment, as the affectionate dogs looked up at their master, the same bite of jealousy she had experienced back at the church pinched her stomach. It reminded her of the look that had passed between Russ and Susan. A look of trust and devotion, a look of…
“Can I give you a ride? I was on my way into town.”
“Business?” she asked, noticing his stylish, three-piece black suit.
“No. A social engagement.” He grinned. “I’m supposed to meet someone.”
“Someone who likes dogs?
“Yes, I hope so.” Robert laughed. “Actually, I’m dropping Casper and Shadow off at my sister’s house up the road. The power went off at my place, and I don’t want these slobbery pups to freeze while I’m out this evening. It will only be a quick stop, and then I can have you in town within fifteen minutes.”
Noelle looked at her car and bit her lower lip. If she waited for a tow truck to come, she would miss the reception. But, should she accept a ride from a man she didn’t know?
“I won’t bite either,” Robert promised.
It was hard not to smile. “A ride would be great.”
Chapter 4
Robert whistled to the dogs, and together they trudged up the snowy embankment to his four wheel drive. It was a Suburban. The kind Noelle had always wanted. The kind Jack thought unsuitable for anyone with social status.
“What type of work do you do?” she asked, buckling her seatbelt.
Robert started the engine. “I buy houses, fix them up, and re-sell them.”
Noelle studied his profile as he steered the truck back onto the road. He was far too good-looking to be a fixer-upper.
“Are you married?” She asked the question without thinking and blushed at how forward she sounded.
“No, I’m available,” Robert said lightheartedly. “Are you?” He glanced over at her, his eyes resting on the gaudy rock on her finger. Jack’s rock.
Noelle turned her hand over in her lap. Her cheeks burned. Her eyes stung with tears.
Robert opened his mouth to apologize, but she waved his words aside.
“It’s — it’s me,” she said, her throat raw. “There is someone who wants to marry me.” She looked away, and one of the dogs in the back seat leaned forward and licked her ear. “I haven’t given him an answer yet.”
“Then something’s missing,” Robert said, turning the wheel.
“I didn’t say that.” Noelle’s mind whirled, as if she was sliding over the embankment all over again.
“If there wasn’t,” Robert insisted, “you wouldn’t have hesitated in saying yes.”
He was right. She should have leapt with joy when Jack proposed. Instead, she asked for time.
“I keep waiting for that… special look,” Noelle began, slipping Robert a cautious glance. He was focusing on the road. Wringing her hands together, she continued. “A look where Jack and I look at each other… And for once, the clock stops ticking, the earth stops moving… A look of…” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment as Robert turned his head.
“Of love,” he said, finishing her sentence.
A look of love. It was that simple. Jack had never looked at her like that because she and Jack weren’t in love!
Robert’s gaze held her own as the realization sunk in.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes,” Noelle said, smiling. And for the first time since Jack proposed, she was.
Chapter 5
After they dropped the dogs off at his sister’s house, Noelle gave Robert directions to the reception hall, and he let her out at the front entrance.
“Thanks for your help,” Noelle said. “I’m glad I didn’t have to wait out in the cold for a tow truck.”
“Can’t have you freeze, either,” Robert teased. “You need to be able to dance at your brother’s wedding reception.”
“Yes.” She smiled. “A ballet teacher should be able to dance.”
“I have to move this rig before I get a parking ticket,” Robert said. “This is only a drop-off zone.”
Noelle said a final goodbye and waved as he pulled away from the curb. She hoped she hadn’t made him late for his own social engagement, but with the nasty winter weather, she was sure whoever he was meeting would understand.
She remembered she had someone to meet, as well. Shaking a few remaining snowflakes from the skirt of her gown, she adjusted the cape draped over her shoulders, brushed back her hair with her fingers, and made her way toward the reception hall’s brass plated double doors.
Inside, she spotted Jack at the bar, sipping a Martini. His face took on an expectant expression as she approached.
“Jack, I can’t marry you,” she said, handing him back the ring. “I’m sorry.”
Jack didn’t seem surprised. He studied the ring for a moment – a hundred glimmering facets reflecting off the ballroom chandelier. “You want something I just can’t give you, Noelle. I’m the one who’s sorry.”
As Jack left, her brother cleared his throat beside her and she became uncomfortably aware he had overheard.
“Noelle, there’s someone I want you to meet…”
She didn’t hear the rest. For suddenly, there was a man coming toward her across the dance floor. A man wearing a familiar black suit. With perhaps a dog hair or two…
He reached for her hand, her noticeably bare left hand, and the corners of his mouth lifted into a warm smile.
Noelle drew in a nervous breath, a tremor of anticipation running up her spine. She lifted her gaze to look into his sparkling blue eyes, and for a moment… time stopped.
And the world stood still.
Me and Mr. Claus
ME AND MR. CLAUS
Kristen stepped out the door of her condo and just missed catching a snowball in the face. The white powdery blast hit the side of her doorframe instead.
“Hey, watch it!” she yelled, and glared at the round, over-fed chunk of a kid who stood on the ice-covered sidewalk. “Some people actually use their front doors to go to work in the morning instead of playing stupid games.”
“Sorry,” the kid muttered, but the smirk on his face as he exchanged glances with his friends implied he
wasn’t
.
Kristen scowled as she hurried down the steps toward her Mercedes. Her mother had called, reminding her to bring an extra Christmas gift on Saturday for her brother’s new girlfriend. As if she had time this week to battle her way through a crowded shopping mall. The whole holiday season made her sick. If only she could fast forward to January so she could get back to a normal schedule without any bothersome decorating, shopping, and socializing. Then her life would be--
Her feet slipped out from under her and she landed hard on the cobblestone driveway. The trio of boys who had been engaged in the snowball fight laughed and wouldn’t you know it - at that moment the school bus pulled up to the curb. She could see the other kids looking through the glass windows and laughing at her too. Kristen scrunched up her nose in embarrassment.
A lovely start to another horrendous holiday season work-week.
Next to her glove a tiny pine tree leaned over, threatening to snap, and she released it from the snow. The tree had been a gift from the guy who watered the plants at her office. Which reminded her, she should have already arrived at the office. She was now six minutes
late.
The advertising agency buzzed with the nauseating drone of chatter, chuckles, and overhead speaker Christmas carols. Kristen did her best to weave through the people blocking the hallway. But no one seemed in a particular hurry to move.
She almost tripped over the cleaning lady, and had to squeeze past Mr. Holly and his arsenal of watering cans and trays of pink flowering Christmas cactus. What was he doing here at this hour anyway? It’s not like plants had to be watered by a deadline and she didn’t think cactus even needed much water.
By the time she reached the sanctuary of her own private office, she was a total of sixteen minutes behind schedule.
“Kristen, I’d like a word,” Mr.Vanderbilt said, following her to her desk.
“Certainly.” She set down her briefcase and glanced at the crease on her boss’s brow.
Not good.
“Barry Winters called and he doesn’t like the flyers you designed for the Children’s Center.”
Kristen pursed her lips. “He said he wanted the front flap to include pictures of children and that’s exactly what I gave him.”
“Mr. Winters wants colorful pictures of
happy
children, with smiling faces, not black and whites of a group of kids who look like they’ve eaten sour grapes. He also says your slogan,
‘Bring out your little ones and we’ll bring out their best,’
lacks spontaneity and the overall essence of fun.”
“
Fun?
” Kristen’s mouth popped open as she tried to decipher where she’d gone off track. “Isn’t the goal of the Children’s Center to teach kids how to become better members of their community?”
“Yes, by connecting with others and having fun in the process.” Mr. Vanderbilt took a deep breath and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. “Look. I don’t want to have to fire anyone before the holidays, but I’m afraid your job is on the line. I can’t afford to keep an associate who produces inadequate work.”
Kristen gasped, and her stomach wrenched tight. “I’ll work overtime. I can rework the advertisement, come up with a better slogan.”
“You have one week,” Mr. Vanderbilt said, his tone gruff. “And to help give you some ideas, I want you to take Sheila Rosenberg’s place as Mrs. Claus at the agency’s three upcoming charity events. Sheila came down with flu this morning and can’t perform her part.”
“
Me?
Play Mrs. Claus?” Kristen stared at her boss, sure he must be joking. “I’m not Mrs. Claus material.”
He raised his feathery brows in a way that sent shivers up her spine. “Well then,
become
Mrs. Claus.”
Kristen swallowed hard, adrenaline pumping like mad into every vestige of her being as Mr. Vanderbilt walked out of her office. She had no experience with kids. She’d never even worn a real costume. When she was little, she donned a business suit for Halloween and pretended to be a lawyer. But she needed this job to pay off her new Mercedes and being fired would look bad on her resume.
Drumming her fingernails in a rhythmic pattern on her desk, she pushed the thought of Christmas and the role of Mrs. Claus out of her head. Work was the one thing that kept her sane in this crazy mixed-up world and she wasn’t about to let Mr. Vanderbilt or anyone else distract her.
A moment later Kristen’s co-worker, Ashley Chatman, knocked on her office door and entered before she had time to reply.
“Heard the news,” Ashley said, her lips curved into a smile. “Mrs. Claus, huh?”
“Oh, Ash, you know I don’t know how to relate to kids. What am I going to do?” Kristen looked at her friend, who didn’t have any kids of her own but had two little nephews. “You could go to the children’s events for me. Dressed as Mrs. Claus no one would know it was you. Please Ashley, could you do it for me?”
“No way. Mr. Vanderbilt would skin me alive if he found out I replaced you. And besides I’m leaving tonight to spend the holidays with my sister in California.”
A jingle of bells and a flurry of greetings erupted from the hallway and both Kristen and Ashley turned their heads. Through the glass walls of the office they could see Noah Goodwell making his cheerful happy-go-lucky rounds.
“I bet that relentless do-gooder has never had a bad day in his life,” Kristen complained.
Ashley smiled. “He’s always so friendly and nice.”
“Too nice to be genuine.”
“Handsome,” Ashley continued, and a dreamy look crossed over her face. “He’s very, very handsome.”
“Somewhat good-looking,” Kristen conceded. “Oh
no
. Here he comes.”
Noah poked his head around the door. “Hello ladies,” he said, wearing a bright smile. “Just want to wish you a good morning.”
“Good morning to you, too, Noah,” Ashley returned.
Kristen gave him a curt nod. His gaze lingered on her a second longer than Ashley. Then he left, and his voice could be heard greeting Mr. Holly down the hall.
“It wouldn’t kill you to at least say ‘Good Morning,’” Ashley scolded.
Kristen frowned. “Today it might.”
After lunch, Kristen met her boss in the advertising agency’s cluttered storage room.
“You’ll be going with Santa to the children’s wing of the hospital at two o’clock,” Mr. Vanderbilt told her, “and you’ll need this.” He handed her a white wig, a granny hat, and a pair of clear, wire-rimmed glasses.
Kristen’s fingers shook as she clutched the items in her hands. “And where
is
Santa?”
“Right here.” Santa Claus walked toward them in full attire. With his red and white suit stuffed wide and his white wig and beard, he looked almost natural. Except for the eyes. There were no lines around the blue eyes that widened at the sight of her.
“What happened to Sheila?” Santa asked, his voice vaguely familiar, yet sounding a bit hoarse.
“She got sick,” Mr. Vanderbilt explained. “Kristen is taking her place.”
Santa hooted with a hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!”
This time, she
did
recognize the voice, but stepped forward and pulled aside the thick white woolly beard to make sure. His clean-shaven square jaw and mischievous grin gave him away.
“Noah Goodwell is Santa?”
She assumed Santa would be played by one of the old, fat retirees who still came into the office now and again. But she should have known her obnoxiously jolly ‘can’t we all be friends’ co-worker was the more obvious choice.
“He
volunteered
,” Mr. Vanderbilt informed her.
“Of course he did.” Kristen ground her teeth together so she wouldn’t say what was really on her mind.
Playing Mrs. Claus was bad enough, but pretending to be the wife of the guy she considered to be her office rival? She knew who would get the Children’s Center account if she couldn’t produce a better slogan in time. Now she’d have to find a way to endure his falsified sugary sweetness
and
save her job.
Noah’s cheerful mood took a nosedive straight through the storage room floor as soon as he spotted Kristen Lockhart with the Mrs. Claus outfit. He tried hard to get along with everyone at the office, but this woman was all prickles and barbed wire.
She was pretty with her slim figure and long, straight, black-brown hair, but no right-minded guy would venture near her, if he could help it. She was the type who probably entertained herself by watching old documents disintegrate in the paper shredder each night. Or by practicing new ways to scowl in front of her bathroom mirror. The type who never laughed or smiled, or did anything spontaneous or fun.
Their advertising agency’s tradition of having Santa and Mrs. Claus visit three children’s venues the week before Christmas usually made him merry. But this year, Kristen’s dried-up-prune- presence threatened to sabotage the whole affair.
Noah set his jaw as Kristen shot a troubled glance over her shoulder and headed for the door. He had to help her discover the true spirit of Christmas. It was the only way he’d survive spending time with her in the days ahead.
Kristen followed ‘Santa’ Noah down the hospital corridor. A blue-uniformed nurse opened the door on the left and stood aside to let them enter.
Noah walked straight up to the little girl laying in the bed, a heart patient, and belted out a hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!”
The blond girl’s eyes widened and a smile spread across her face. “Santa Claus, did you leave the North Pole early to come see me?”
Noah handed her a candy cane. “Of course I did.”
“And Mrs. Claus too?”
Kristen hung back a few feet, but Noah motioned her forward. She hesitated, and then slowly drew near, holding up the hem of her red velour gown so she wouldn’t trip. Despite the fact Noah had been spouting the benefits of the season the whole drive over, Kristen didn’t feel any peace, hope, or joy. She simply wanted to do her duty and leave a.s.a.p.
“Merry Christma-aaaah! Noah, help me!”
The little girl gripped her neck with both hands and wouldn’t let go. Kristen tried to pull away, and when she did the little girl began to cry. And scream. Three nurses ran into the room, pried the girl’s hands off her, and then asked her and Noah to leave. Kristen was thankful.
Noah was mad. Of all the people who could have played Mrs. Claus, how did he get stuck with someone who didn’t like kids? If he had any doubts before, this cinched his heart and mind closed. He could never like a woman who didn’t like kids. He didn’t think she even liked Christmas. He thought he could show Kristen what Christmas was really about, but now he didn’t believe she’d ever understand.
Resentment exploded his jolly persona right out of the building. “What is the matter with you?”
Kristen shook her head, and leaned against the outside corridor wall. “I-I didn’t mean to make her cry. The kid sprung toward me and-”
“She just wanted a hug. How would you feel if someone you loved refused to hug you?”
Kristen stared at him, her face blank.
Noah gave her a hard, scrutinizing look. “Haven’t you ever hugged anyone?”
“No, not really...” She lowered her head. “We don’t - my family and I - hug or kiss each other much.”
Noah remained silent and very, very still for several long moments. He couldn’t imagine a home without hugs. Hugs were a staple at his house. How could a person go through life without receiving any hugs? Maybe Kristen wasn’t mean after all. Maybe her heart was as sick as the little girl’s, only in a different way.
“Everyone should be entitled to a hug now and then.” Noah stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Kristen and to his surprise, she was trembling. “A hug represents warmth both inside and out. It shows you care about them.”
“I’m a terrible Mrs. Claus,” Kristen mumbled. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Yes,” he said, releasing her. “You should. I’m going to talk to the nurses. You need to go back in there and make amends so that poor kid can believe in Christmas.”
Believe in Christmas?
How could she help the little girl believe in Christmas when she herself didn’t believe?
The three nurses hovered nearby as Kristen made her way back into the little girl’s room. One of them frowned, another wore a wary expression as if she didn’t trust her. Kristen swallowed hard, but she couldn’t seem to get rid of the lump of guilt lodged in her throat. How was all this
her
fault?