Chapter Twenty-One
Tired and nervous, Bella arrived at her store the next morning. Somebody had done their best to wash off the words. The windows were now clear, but a bright square of new paint around them stood as a reminder.
Almost setting off the new alarm system as she opened the door, she managed to punch in the code, but not before she’d spilled hot coffee all over her hand and onto the carpet.
Never mind the carpet. She stepped over the small spot. If all went according to plan, Matt would be ripping it up as soon as her Christmas season finished.
The phone rang.
Bella’s heart skipped a beat. She needed to change the number, but that meant changing all her business cards, flyers, website information . . . Her hand shook a bit as she picked it up.
“Bella.” Nana’s strident tones burned down the line. “You’re not answering your cell.”
Relief that it wasn’t Adam was quickly replaced by a new sort of nerves. “Hi, Nana. How’s the weather?”
“Hot.” Nana sniffed. “What sort of numbers are you doing?”
They talked sales figures for a few minutes. Nana grudgingly conceded that Bella had done very well this year so far.
“What’s wrong with your cell?” Nana ended Bella’s reprieve. “When we call it, this message says that number is not in service. Did you lose it or something?”
“No.” Bella took a deep breath for courage. “I’ve had some trouble and I needed to change the number.”
“What sort of trouble?” Nana’s tone sharpened.
There really wasn’t an easy way to say this. “I have a stalker.”
“A what?”
“A stalker.” It got easier saying it the second time. “Someone who won’t leave me alone. Follows me around.”
Silence.
“What did you do?” Nana’s voice rose.
Even expecting it, it still took a chunk out of her. “I didn’t do anything,” she said. “I met a man. We dated a couple of times and I ended it. He decided not to accept that.”
“Oh.” Nana laughed. “Is that all? You young girls today. Always with the naming things and the getting hysterical. In my day, we would call him persistent and be flattered.”
Bella didn’t know exactly where the line between persistent and creepy lay, but she knew painting insults on her storefront was definitely over it. “He painted some ugly words on the storefront.”
Nana sucked in a breath. “On my store?”
“Actually, it’s my store.” Bella often let that reference go, but she didn’t feel like it this morning. “And yes. We got it off, but I had to shut the store yesterday.”
“But you’re open today?”
“Yes, the store is open today.” Bella wanted to hang up. She felt drained already. “Are Mom or Dad around?”
“No, they’ve gone out to lunch,” Nana said.
“Oh.” No hope of getting all the difficult conversations over in one. “I’ll give you my new cell number and perhaps you can get Dad to call me.”
“Hmm.” Nana’s standard response when she didn’t want to come out with a straight no. Bella would be calling her parents later. “I think you should keep this business to yourself.”
Her anger almost got away from her. It came on so fast and strong, she had to grip the counter to stop herself from yelling. “You mean about me being stalked?”
“This is their first vacation in years.” Nana’s tone got huffy. “They’re enjoying it, and it’s not like you’re in any real danger.”
The only crazy part about this conversation was that she had expected something different. Her parents might have reacted differently, but with Nana telling them the story, they’d only get the truth as Nana saw it. “I think they should know.” She surprised herself with her balls. “I’m their daughter and I know they would want to know.”
“Of course I’ll tell them,” Nana said. “Just not now. I’m going to ask you to be considerate and not go behind my back.” Steel in a cement glove, that was Nana.
Bella channeled her inner Dr. Childers. “I’m afraid I can’t agree with you. I’ll call Dad later and let him and Mom know.”
Nana gasped. “Bella! It’s not like you to be so selfish.”
“It’s also not like me to be stalked by a psychotic whack job.” That felt so good. “Also, I’ll be making some changes to the store while you’re away. I’ll send you a copy of the plans once they’re finalized.”
“What changes? I didn’t approve any changes.” You could always rely on store talk to veer Nana off course.
“No, you didn’t.”
The bell chimed over the door and a middle-aged woman walked in.
“I have to go now. Customers.” She hung up on Nana firing questions, slapped a smile on her face, and approached the woman.
Adam’s graffiti turned out to be a backward favor. Bella had more than the usual number of customers. Some of them came out of curiosity, others to express their concern, but quite a few ended up browsing and buying. She was so busy she could almost tell herself she hadn’t ducked Nate’s call.
But she had. She’d sent him a text to say she was fine. He hadn’t called or texted back, so a good result all around. Sort of.
About an hour before closing time, Daniel walked into the store. He looked horribly out of place in among all the pink in his jeans and battered leather jacket. Not pretty, but he had the sort of rugged attractiveness that screamed male.
“Hey.” He took off his sunglasses. Despite frigid temperatures, the sun outside bounced off the white snow.
She returned his smile. “Hey yourself.”
“So, I could pretend I was passing by.” He gave her a charmingly boyish smile. “But I really am a crap liar. So why don’t I just tell you straight up that I’m checking up on you?”
“That sort of honesty deserves an honest response.” Bella thought about it and then gave him her best answer. “I think I’m okay. A bit freaked out, definitely nervous, and mad as hell at my nana.”
“Huh.” He unzipped his jacket and shrugged out of it. His long-sleeved T-shirt clung to an upper body she’d bet her last dime was ripped. “I get freaked and nervous.” He grimaced. “That nana thing, though? Clueless.”
“It’s a long story.” And not one she wanted to get into right then.
Daniel dug in his back pocket and pulled out a card. “I imagine you’re not handing out your number much, so here’s mine. You can call it anytime you want. For any reason.” He took a step closer. “Even if that reason happens to be a cup of coffee. Dinner, even?”
Bella stared at the card in her hand without taking in the information on it. “Dinner?”
Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I’m kinda out of practice on this whole asking-a-girl-out thing.” He held up a hand. “And I know the timing is terrible and all. What with the Adam thing, and you and Nate being an item. Just keep the card. Maybe you’ll feel like giving it a call anyway. At worst, you’ll get a friend.”
“Nate and I aren’t an item.” Saying it out loud shouldn’t hurt because she knew it by now. But it came out with claws on it.
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Okay,” he said but didn’t sound convinced. “Whatever. But I like you, Bella, and not in a creepy, spray-paint-your-store-window way. I’d like to get to know you better.”
Bella ran her thumb over the card edge and tried to think of something to say. A month ago, she’d been all alone with no prospects in sight. Suddenly, she seemed to have all sorts of men coming out of the woodwork, and not all of them in a good way. “How about I take your card as a friend?”
Daniel flashed her a wicked smile. “That works too.”
A customer walked in and Bella greeted her before turning back to Daniel. “I need to . . .”
“Yeah.” He put his sunglasses back on. “Just remember, I won’t be eating or sleeping until you call. No pressure.” He grinned over his shoulder. “Just kidding.”
“Wow.” Her customer turned and watched Daniel’s ass leave the store.
It was a nice ass. She might be off dating, but she hadn’t gone blind.
Her customer fanned her face and grinned. “I’d definitely call that.”
Bella got another call from Nate that night.
She couldn’t not reply, not with the situation with Adam and all Nate had done to help her with it. But being the total wuss she was, she texted again.
Liz popped in, on her way out on a date with Noel.
“Tomorrow night,” she said. “We’re doing our charity thing. Be ready at about four and wear comfortable shoes.”
Then Liz was gone in a waft of heady perfume and a glitter of sequins.
Bella fired off a quick text to Gabby, asking her if she wanted to join them.
Unfortunately, Gabby was busy, but she asked Bella to keep her in mind for another outing.
As she packed the dishwasher after a solitary dinner, her dad called. She told him everything. He wanted to rush back from Florida, but Bella persuaded him to stay. She spoke to her mother and reassured her.
Nate texted: All locked up for the night?
Yes. She included a smiley face because what Liz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. Good nite.
She still checked the locks three times and all the windows before going to bed. But she slept better and woke the next morning feeling more cheerful. Snow had fallen in the night and a crisp, sparkly, white wonderland stretched outside her window.
Getting dressed, she hummed along to “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” It really was, in a way. She had a new friendship with Liz. Both of them single and both of them keen to embrace life.
Dr. Childers’s last sessions had lulled her to sleep last night. The exhortation to get out there and be the best her still rang in her ears. She had survived her Nate crush for all these years and she would recover from this as well. Her best Bella didn’t include any reenactments of Miss Havisham or any other pining sort of woman.
She even had the option to date again if she wanted. Not that she wanted to, but it cheered her to have options.
Adam. Her good mood dipped. He lurked around somewhere out there, and she might not have heard the last of him. She mentally pulled up her big-girl panties. Right now, Adam wasn’t a factor, and until he made himself one again, she wasn’t going to worry about it. Or she’d try not to at least.
Her new notoriety meant another busy day in the store.
Matt brought around her final plans around midday, along with a quote and a schedule. Customers kept her too busy to look at it. So it sat beneath her counter whispering temptation through her day. She closed early enough to run home to get changed and get ready for Liz at four.
Checking her phone, she saw she had two missed calls from Nate and three texts.
“Where are we going?” She jumped into the passenger seat beside Liz. She quickly fired off a text: Sorry I missed you today. Busy at store. On my way out with Liz. Am fine.
She would listen to his messages and read his texts later.
Liz wore a super-toned-down version of herself tonight, her makeup minimal and her nails a subdued nude. Sure, she still had sparkles, but they were limited to the back pocket of her jeans. “We’re going to serve dinner at a homeless shelter,” Liz said as she pulled into the light traffic down Main Street.
That sounded perfect, and Bella told her so.
Liz drove to a rougher part of town and parked in front of St. Peter’s, an imposing stone church that, like an aging prom queen, still clung to traces of her former glory.
Peering through the windshield, Liz huffed. “I sure hope that list of yours knows what it’s doing.”
A ragged man shambled down the sidewalk and disappeared down an outside staircase. The sign on the railing read: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
Bella had lived her entire life in Ghost Falls and had never visited this part of town. Nana always warned her against it.
“Come on.” She opened her door and stepped out. With the sun sinking below the horizon, a frigid wind chased a paper bag down the street.
Liz clung to her as they made their way down the metal staircase to an outside door at basement level. The door opened onto a small entryway. Another door opened onto a long, drab corridor. The strong smell of antiseptic made Bella’s nose itch as they followed the gentle murmur of voices down the corridor.
The room they entered was as large as a high-school gym and filled with folding tables. Bright red plastic chairs stood out against the institutional beige of the rest of the place. Someone had attempted to cheer it up with inspirational posters on the walls.
A tall blond man with lumberjack shoulders and matching scruff along his square jaw approached them. “Elizabeth?”
“Yes.” Liz kept staring around the room. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have missed the hot man mountain smiling down at her. He had those sexy laugh lines around his eyes and mouth that made a girl want to make him smile some more.
“And you must be her friend.” He held his hand out to Bella. He gave her hand a reassuring warm and firm grip. “I’m Reverend Bradford, but please call me Michael; everyone else does. We’re always happy to have a fresh set of volunteers.”
Wow! Clearly Anglicans had a different recruitment policy for their priests. One Bella approved of, and then immediately felt like the scum of the earth. There must be a special level of hell for women who lusted after the clergy. Then again, Anglican priests married . . .
Most of the tables were occupied by people like the man who’d entered before them. A collection of men and women, some of them painfully young, dressed in discarded and ragged coats and scarves. She found the silence unnerving. As interested as she was in the occupants, they barely looked up from their tables.
Michael led them to a large serving station at one end of the room. The only thing remotely priestlike about Michael was his clerical collar. He wore it beneath a long-sleeved shirt, the tails of which hung over the waistband of a pair of well-loved and battered jeans. His well-used hiking boots were laced with hot pink.
“As you two are new, we’ll break you in slowly,” Michael said with his huge smile. “We’ll put you on the serving station. Only when you show real skill there will we allow you anywhere near the kitchen.” He winked at Bella.
She nearly tripped over her sensible sneakers and gave herself a stern warning to pay attention.
Through a large open hatch, a group of people manned the kitchen. The smell of baking bread and chicken soup drifted into the dining area.
Michael handed them each an apron that read, “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace.”
And suddenly she stopped feeling so sorry for herself. Yes, her Christmas was taking a few unexpected twists, but here in this room the despair was palpable. Good people like the smoking-hot Reverend Michael had put aside whatever they had going on in their lives to hold out a helping hand.
“I think I feel it.” She squeezed Liz’s arm as they stood behind a huge stainless-steel cauldron. “The Christmas magic.”