The Sleeping Beauty Bride Read online

  He hadn’t missed the quick whispered words that had passed between the two as he entered the store and couldn’t quell the irritation that ran through him. Almost since the day of his wife Jackie’s funeral six years ago, the women of their social group had been trying to set him up on dates. Was this another of Mary’s attempts? Whatever the older woman had said had sure brought a fetching blush to her companion’s cheeks.

  He brushed a hand over his face, stunned at the sudden attraction he felt for the woman who was apparently running the store. He had not reacted this strongly to any woman in years—not that there hadn’t been many attempts by well-meaning friends to introduce him to attractive and available females.

  He knew Mary Atwell as a friend of his older sister from years back, and knew about her becoming a recluse after being stood up at the altar. Well, if a woman like that can find a new lease on love . . . He quickly shut the inner voice down. No, he wasn’t ready for a relationship. He had too much going on with his daughter.

  Noelia was still munching on a cookie. Guess she must be hungry, he thought, and was pleased despite himself to note that she wasn’t one of those women who starved themselves to maintain a stick figure. This woman had lush curves in all the right places. At that thought, Nate felt a physical reaction that left him tongue-tied. To his embarrassment, he stammered as he queried, “I was wondering, well, I understand your store, er, Wedding Bliss, takes wedding gowns on consignment?”

  “Yes, we do. I’m Noelia Russo, by the way.” She started to offer him her hand and then seemed to notice the cookie that she still held. Her cheeks reddened even more charmingly as she switched hands.

  “Nathaniel Westbury—I prefer Nate.” He took her proffered hand, holding it just for a moment before the crackle of awareness shot through him and made him let go.

  With a sinking feeling, he guessed that a matchmaking attempt was behind the whispers and the blushes. When would the local matrons understand that he might be lonely but he wasn’t looking for love? He had too much emotional turmoil in his life right now as it was. Better to nip that one in the bud.

  As Noelia—what a pretty name!—looked at him expectantly, he blurted, “Whatever Mary has been saying about dating, I’m not interested at the moment.”

  He was taken aback by how rude that sounded and felt again that same physical rush when she arched a sexy eyebrow. “That’s okay, dear. I promise I never drag customers into the back room and ravish them.”

  • • •

  Oh my goodness, did I really say that to a customer? Noelia couldn’t look the guy in the eye as she mustered her tattered dignity and stammered, “Er, just let me tidy these things up and then we’ll see how I can help you.” She grabbed the tea tray and escaped to the kitchen. As she laid the cups in the sink she noticed that there was a smear of chocolate on her hand. No wonder the poor guy had dropped her fingers so quickly—he probably wasn’t a fan of second-hand chocolate.

  Dear Lord, please let the floor open up and swallow me! But the broad pine planks didn’t come to her rescue, and she briefly considered making a quick exit through the rear door. Then she straightened her spine, washed her hands, and returned to her customer.

  Only the store was empty. On the pretty Victorian dining table where the coffee tray had sat there was a flat cardboard box of the type wedding gowns were packed in. On top of the box was a note scrawled on one of the sticky notes from a pad in a box by the cash register.

  “Sorry—had to leave. Talk later—N.”

  Relief at narrowly dodging a bullet wafted through her. Maybe if Nate returned to the store, she could arrange for Kelly or Sasha to talk to him. If the handsome man had left her unsettled with only a few words and a handshake, what effect would actually working with him to sell the wedding dress have on her?

  • • •

  Later that day as he listened to his last client drone on about how he couldn’t get his life together, Nate suddenly found himself smiling at the memory of Noelia’s quick wit and the sweet blush that had painted her cheeks.

  “Do you think it’s funny that my boss picks on me just like my old math teacher did?”

  His client’s pained whine jolted him back to the present. “I am so sorry, Winston. My smile had nothing to do with what is happening with you—my mind just wondered for a moment there. Let’s go over again what you just said. Are you getting a sense that there is a pattern of accepting bullying in your life?”

  Winston sniffed. “Well, I hadn’t seen it, but yes, you’re right. Even my father-in-law puts me down, telling my wife I’m not good enough, that my business plans are all pie in the sky.”

  Is that what I’ve done with Daniel and Lydia? Nate pushed the unwelcome thought to the back of his mind as he continued to work with his client, but he had the uneasy feeling that the idea would revisit him later.

  Chapter Three

  It was Noelia’s turn to volunteer at the Marina Grove hospital again, and she couldn’t resist stopping by to see the patient the nurses called Sleeping Beauty. “Does the young woman in room 307 have any visitors at the moment?” she asked the nurse at the section desk, not wishing to intrude if family or friends of the young woman’s were visiting.

  “No, the poor lamb is alone—there’s been no change at all in her condition,” Sally James, the nurse in charge of the floor that shift, told Noelia.

  Feeling foolish, Noelia glanced down the corridor—the coast was clear. No sign of the good-looking Nate Westbury, thank goodness. After their collision yesterday and the awkward discussion later at Wedding Bliss, she was determined not to run into him again. She hurried down the corridor, and as she stepped into the room, the cold draft she’d noticed before seemed to whirl around her. “Must be something wrong with the heating or the air conditioning,” she murmured to herself as she walked over to check that the windows had been closed against the chilly evening air.

  They were shut, and the drapes were drawn tightly against the pelting rain and gusting wind. Parting them to look outside, Noelia could just see the paler gray of the cloud-riddled sky above the darkening sea and the lights of small boats bobbing like so many angels lighting the fishermen home to Marina Grove through the cruel weather.

  For a moment, she felt that old familiar pain in her heart. The angels’ lights hadn’t been enough to bring her husband home safely. He’d been caught in a sudden gale that had cost the lives of two crew members on a wicked early spring day just like this. All these years, raising their sons alone, and she still missed him.

  “Oh, Andre, you’d be so proud of them,” she murmured, resting her forehead against the cool glass. Funny how she had often felt his presence and known, somehow, that he was still looking out for her.

  As she stared through the glass, the reflection of a shape seemed to appear behind her, and Noelia whirled around, thinking it was one of the nurses who’d entered, quiet in their soft-soled shoes.

  But the room was empty. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders. She must have seen the shimmering reflections of the trees and lights outside on the hospital grounds. Even so she suppressed a shiver. It seemed this corner of the room where the visitors’ chairs were placed was always the coldest.

  She made a mental note to check again with the nurses to see if one of the building maintenance staff could take a look. Thinking about the shimmering shape that seemed to appear behind her, she wondered if she should ask Kelly to come by, check for restless spirits. She smiled to herself. Was her boss’s strange gift a one-off affair that helped Mary Atwell find her long-lost groom, or would she continue to see the ghosts of those who still had debts to settle before moving to the next world?

  She turned to the young girl so still and quiet on the bed. “I wonder if Kelly’s power could help her to reach you and find out why you can’t come back to us.” Sleeping Beauty remained still and silent.

  Sighing, Noelia shook herself from the melancholic mood. Kelly would be back in a couple of days, and Ell
ie Mae would be home soon from the cruise. Then her long hours at the store and volunteering at the hospital would be eased. And no more trying to cope with the infuriating Sasha.

  Sleeping Beauty, with her blond hair scattered on the white hospital pillow and her cheeks a tender, glowing pink, didn’t look like a near-death comatose patient, but more like her fairy-tale namesake waiting for the prince to come and wake her with a kiss. Only the steady beeping of the heart and blood-pressure monitors gave away her precarious state.

  Noelia opened her tote bag and rooted around until she found the small jar of skin moisturizing cream she had brought with her.

  “Nothing makes a woman feel better than attention to her skin,” she whispered to the silent girl as she smoothed the cream into her soft cheeks. The patient showed no reaction at all, as if her essence was in another world and only the shell of her body remained.

  Noelia smoothed the soft curls back from her pale brow and on impulse bent down to press a kiss on her forehead.

  “Good night, sweetheart,” she murmured as she gathered her coat and tote bag and moved toward the door. She needed to get an early start at Wedding Bliss the next day, tying up loose ends and sprucing up the wedding paraphernalia before Kelly came home.

  • • •

  The pale woman watched from the shadows as the pleasant volunteer tended to Lydia with the kind of care she herself had once lavished on her. She liked this woman, and the mention of Kelly Andrews set off bells ringing in her mind. Perhaps there was something she could do to help wake the Sleeping Beauty, after all.

  • • •

  Noelia was at Wedding Bliss early the next morning, the idea that her boss would be returning and releasing her from the extra responsibilities put a spring in her step. She’d check that everything was fine in the store, maybe spruce up the window display. In the past few days she’d sold several of the pretty, skimpy honeymoon sleep sets that had been part of the display.

  Seriously, though—why call them sleep sets? Would anyone actually wear anything—or even sleep—on their wedding night? Memories of her own wedding night with Andre brought a warm flush to her skin and a longing deep in her chest. How innocent they had both been! And how quickly and greedily they had learned about each other’s bodies and the delights that the marriage bed offered.

  She sighed loudly and pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She was too old to be having such thoughts; those things were for the young. She should be content with the good life she had built for her little family. Now her sons were off in the world, one at college, the other graduated and in a well-paying job. Maybe there was even a wedding in their future. She would be happy to get back to the quiet routine of her days. She honestly hadn’t minded standing in for Kelly, who she had to admit had been one of the most beautiful and deeply in love brides she had ever seen, glowing as she held her new husband’s hand and set off on their honeymoon adventure.

  What really grieved her was that she was neglecting her other job, the secret work that she loved so much. The work that filled her lonely hours, gave her an outlet for her fantasies of love and romance, and remained a closely guarded secret. Noelia chuckled. Whatever would the likes of Mary Atwell, so concerned about the lack of romance in Noelia’s life, think if she knew her connection to the steamy romances written under the pen name Mimi L’Amour?

  Engrossed in these thoughts, she went to unlock the door and found it already open. Cautiously she pushed it wider, hearing the silver bells jingle, and walked inside to find utter chaos.

  “What . . . what is going on?” she managed to croak when she could find her voice again. The beautiful store she had left so tidy was all in disarray. White drop cloths covered everything. The shelving and storage containers and the antique mahogany table and the cash area were all huddled in the center of the room like frightened cattle.

  The creamy white wall on one side was now partly colored an eye-popping tangerine, and a mustachioed older man was muttering to himself in some foreign-sounding language while he continued to apply the bright color.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Noelia shouted. When he didn’t answer, she strode across the room and whacked his shoulder. How rude that he was ignoring her!

  He squawked and jumped, narrowly missing stepping in the paint tray at his feet. Belatedly Noelia saw the earbuds in his ears and the wire that snaked down to an iPhone tucked in the bib pocket of his overalls.

  “What the . . . Lady, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” he spluttered. He placed the paint roller safely in the tray as he turned to face her.

  “I’m the one who’s likely to have a heart attack—look at that color! It’s blinding! What are you doing? Who . . . ”

  “I’m rather afraid that’s all my fault.” Mary Atwell appeared from the back room of the store cradling a mug of rich-smelling Columbian coffee. Noelia thought if she wasn’t so agitated, she’d swoon from the aroma. “I wanted it to be a wonderful surprise for Kelly when she came home. Hadn’t we agreed . . . ?”

  Noelia drew in a deep breath, which she hoped would help keep her from slapping the older woman silly.

  “I didn’t agree to anything. I told you to talk to Kelly before you did anything. She’ll go ballistic when she sees . . . ”

  “Kelly will go ballistic when she sees what?” The silver bells jangled as the owner of Wedding Bliss herself appeared in the doorway looking bronzed and happy from her honeymoon. Her eyes slid over the white clothed furniture tableau, taking in the anger that sizzled between her assistant and best friend and her aunt-in-law before finally resting on the dazzling tangerine wall and the puzzled looking painter.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered.

  “See?” Noelia told Mary. “I told you she’d hate it!”

  “I was only trying to help.” Mary’s eyes glistened with tears.

  “No, no, I don’t hate it . . . not exactly.”

  “You don’t?” Noelia and Mary chorused.

  “Well, it is very bright. It was just so unexpected, that’s all. In fact, I had been thinking of redecorating and putting something a bit livelier on the wall where we showcase the lingerie and jewelry.”

  Noelia scowled as Mary gave her a smug wink. “See, I told you that it was what the store needed.”

  Kelly stood back a little, narrowing her eyes as she took in the color. “It really pops, doesn’t it?”

  “Well, I wish you ladies would get your act together,” the painter said, introducing himself as Marco Locarno.

  “You speak very good English,” Noelia told him. “But when I came in you seemed to be talking to yourself in a different language.”

  “Ah! I was born and bred in Bar Harbor, as American as they come, despite my name! I always wanted to travel, but I met my Marianna, fell in love, and the kiddies came along and . . . well, that’s life. But they’re grown and gone now, and Marianna and me, we have an anniversary coming up, and, well, I want to surprise her with a trip to Italy. We’re off to see the museums and art galleries, maybe look up some long-lost cousins. What you heard was me trying to speak Italian. I’m taking one of those online language courses.”

  “Didn’t sound anything like Italian to me. I think maybe you need a little help with the pronunciation,” Noelia told him.

  His eyes widened. “You speak Italian?”

  “Learned it at my granny’s knee. She insisted that we kids speak her native language so that we wouldn’t forget where we came from.”

  “Do you think maybe I could buy you a coffee and you could give me a couple of pointers? “

  Noelia smiled. “Buon giorno, sì sarei felice di aiutarvi. Sure, I would be happy to help you when I’m a bit less busy. It would actually be fun to speak Italian—I don’t get much opportunity these days.”

  Noelia smiled at the man’s obvious pleasure, and they both turned to look at Kelly, who was still squinting at the wall. Mary pulled anxiously at the cream silk scarf she wore at the neck of her chic moss-g
reen pantsuit. “So, do you really like the new wall color, dear?”

  “Yeah, someone please tell me what’s going on? Should I pack up my stuff and leave you ladies to think about it?” Marco handed Noelia his business card and began gathering his equipment. “Call me if you have a few minutes to speak Italian.”

  “I do think you’re right, and the store needs something a bit brighter, maybe just on that one wall. But it’s a bit too eye-popping—reminds me of a big box store’s fast-food outlet.” Kelly said. Turning to Marco, she asked, “Do you think you could tone it down a bit? And then paint the other walls a soft creamy shade?”

  The painter’s expression brightened. “I can do that, certainly. In fact, if you can give me about four hours, I can have it all finished. I just need to mix some cream with this tangerine to get the calmer color, then do the other walls . . . ”

  “We’re supposed to open up for customers in a few minutes.” Noelia looked around helplessly at the chaos.

  “Tell you what,” Kelly decided. “We’ll hang a notice on the door that we’re closed today and tomorrow to give Wedding Bliss a whole new look and that we’ll reopen the day after tomorrow with a flash sale! That should soothe anyone’s irritation and create some excitement, too. And if anyone needs us urgently—and they shouldn’t, this is a wedding shop, after all, not the ER—they can call and leave a voicemail.”

  Noelia crossed the room to hug Kelly. “Welcome home, smart lady. I guess the honeymoon went well, judging by that sparkle in your eyes.”

  “It was perfect. I can’t thank you enough for taking the reins while I was gone. And how did things work out with Sasha? Where is she, by the way?”

  Noelia rolled her eyes. “Don’t ask, so I don’t have to tell you. In fairness, she has handled a couple of difficult customers well; it’s just that her time-keeping leaves something to be desired.”

  “Ah. That bad, eh?”

  “Let’s just say that I think you married the Atwell sibling who got all the work ethic. And maybe all the brains, too.”