Chapter Eight
The next day, Bella dressed in a great tailored pencil skirt and paired it with a top that gave a peek-a-boo shadow of cleavage. Not enough to make Pippa raise an eyebrow about too much boobage in the morning but still give a hint at what lay beneath. She hopped into her car and listened to Dr. Childers tell her to “Go forth and be your power” all the way to work.
She popped into Mugged and bought her caramel, fat-free latte but changed up her banana-nut muffin for a croissant. Last night had marked an epoch in the evolution of Bella. She’d sat at her kitchen table and chatted—yes, chatted—to Nate Evans like they were old friends. Progress!
Juggling her breakfast, she answered her phone. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, sweetheart. I thought I’d ask Pete from next door to bring around the Christmas decorations.” Dad sounded sheepish. “In case, you know, you changed your mind.”
“That would be a waste of Pete’s time.” Bella flipped on the lights. “I haven’t changed my mind.”
Dad took a long, deep breath. “Sweetheart, your nana never slept a wink last night. This thing has got her all upset.”
Guilt gave a hard yank as Bella put her coffee and croissant on the counter. “I’m not trying to upset her. I’m sorry this is hard for her.”
“You have to understand Nana, sweetheart. Everything she does is for the good of the family.”
And that made everything Nana did above reproach. Bella’s hand clenched around the phone. “I know she means well, but the store is stuck in a time warp, and it’s not going to survive if I don’t bring it into this century.”
Nana’s voice sounded in the background. “Yes, I’m talking to Bella,” Dad said. “Progress is good.” His voice grew stronger again. “We all believe that, but rushing into things is dangerous.”
Nana’s voice again, words garbled but tone as strident as ever.
“I’m not rushing into anything.” Bella sipped her latte and waited as Nana had her say in the background. “I need to run the store my way.”
“I know that, sweetheart, but isn’t there some middle ground? Somewhere you and Nana can meet?”
“That girl is too stubborn to meet anyone anywhere,” Nana yelled.
Dr. Childers never said how difficult this owning-your-power thing really was. “I don’t see how, Dad, when it’s Nana’s way or the highway.”
“I can see why you would say that. It’s just that we’re a family, Bella. Families stick together.” He sighed. “We always stick together. It’s what gets us through hard times.”
The double one-two, head-and-heart strike almost had her buckling under. Nobody ever spoke outright about Gina, especially not if Mom could hear. Instead, they fudged over that part of their history and called it hard times. “If Nana would give a bit, I could do that. But you know what she’s like.”
“All right, sweetheart.” Her father’s voice drooped. “I guess we’ll see you when we get back. Think about what I’ve said.”
“Sure, Dad.” Like she hadn’t run circles around her own head trying not to upset her family.
“You’re still a member of this family, sweetheart. We love you.”
“Love you too.” Bella hung up and picked at the pointy crescent edge of her croissant. No matter what Dr. Childers said, it sucked to be the family bad guy. She’d towed the line her whole life. Nana picked out her wardrobe in elementary school and dictated what sports a girl should play. She had accepted Nana’s approved date for prom and worn the dress Nana picked out from the store.
Dad had no idea how long this had been building. If you smiled like you were happy, it was enough for him. This feeling of drifting like a passenger in her own life had grown steadily, getting worse as she took over the store. Then Pippa had come back to town two years ago and Bella had had to face the truth. She had been absent in her own life up to this point, floating along on a Nana-sanctioned cloud of happy.
It was pathetic. At thirty-four she still lived another woman’s life. Tried to compensate her family for having only one child when there should have been two of them. Even her crush on Nate seemed like another way of avoiding actually living her life.
Bella finished her latte and went about getting the store ready for the day. Hurting Nana or Dad was never the plan. She loved them, but the cost of that love had become too expensive.
The door opened and Debbie Palmer walked in with a beaming smile behind a massive arrangement of red roses. “Look what I have.”
“For me?” Only Dad had ever sent her flowers. Bella’s heart gave a little skip. “Who are they from?”
“Read the card.” Debbie placed the vase beside the cash register and stepped back. She tilted her head and then moved the arrangement slightly over and gave it a turn. “There.”
Bella plucked the card from its plastic holder amid the flowers.
“I’m counting the days. Adam.”
Wow! Stuff like this didn’t happen to her. This was straight from a romcom. Bella’s cheeks heated as she tucked the card under the register. Her day suddenly got a whole lot brighter.
“Who are they from?” Pale blue eyes alight, Debbie rocked on her toes.
Bella tried for nonchalant. “A guy I met.”
“Some guy.” Snorting, Debbie rolled her eyes. “That’s some guy to send you roses like this after you just met him.”
A little quiver of warm and nice slid down Bella’s spine. She’d never been the woman other women envied. It felt a bit selfish but also really nice. “Yup.”
Debbie stared at her, waiting for more.
A known gossip, Debbie would share this with everyone who would listen and this Adam thing didn’t really exist yet. With a casual shrug, Bella slid behind the desk and moved the flowers an inch over to the left.
“Well, see you around.” Debbie threw her one more look before she left with a sniff.
Bella waited for the door to tinkle shut, then buried her nose in the velvet crimson roses. Maybe this was some sort of sign that she was on the right track. From her bag, she dug out her phone and found Adam’s texts from yesterday.
I got the flowers. They’re lovely. Thank you.
She stroked one petal with her forefinger.
Her phone buzzed. Beautiful roses for a beautiful lady.
It sounded a little trite and practiced, but hey, he’d sent her flowers.
A new text popped onto her screen. Can I see you tonight?
Cosmo had led her right so far. No need to sound too eager. Sorry. Busy tonight.
Tomorrow?
Sorry, I have plans. She found an emoji sad face and sent it. Then she waited, heart pounding. Had she pushed too far?
Friday?
Taking a deep breath, Bella counted the recommended two minutes the article spoke about. Okay, they also said not to use smiley faces or emojis, but she was new to this coy thing. Friday is good for me.
See you then. Her phone buzzed. I’m looking forward to it.
She stamped on the urge to type back me too and settled for another smiley face.
She had a date. With a man who liked her. And he’d sent her flowers. Bella had to sit down to take it all in. Dr. Childers was right: Action equaled positivity and positivity had momentum. Time for a little more action. She picked up her phone and dialed a number she’d been putting off.
“Hey, Matt,” she said when he answered. “Pippa said I should give you a call. I have a renovation project I want to talk to you about.”
* * *
Liz popped by on Wednesday but remained tight-lipped about the talk with her ex. They ended up ordering pizza and watching chick flicks.
Friday rolled around faster than Bella would have expected.
Matt came by the store that morning and she went over her plans for the renovation.
“No problem.” He smiled his great country-boy grin, which hadn’t changed despite the big business he did with his brother Eric. “I’ll send some guys around to take measurements. We’ll work up a plan and then we can talk final numbers.”
“Well, hello, Matt.” Liz breezed into the store, whipping off her sunglasses as she came. Poured into a pair of red jeans, flashing a little midriff, she sashayed over to him.
Bella bit back her irritation as she recognized vintage Liz from before their fledgling friendship had started.
“Liz.” Matt nodded and gathered up his papers. “I’ll call you,” he said to Bella. “And Pippa told me to remind you about Saturday.”
“I’ll be there,” Liz purred.
Matt went a little pale but rallied. “Great.” His voice boomed off the walls. A hasty exit set the bell above the door jangling.
“God.” Liz threw herself on the sofa and dropped her bag beside her. “All those Evans men are seriously hot. I mean haaawt. I would so like to bounce one of them around my bedroom.”
A hot surge of irritation shot through Bella and her mouth puckered up in a way she guessed must look a lot like Nana.
“What?” Liz narrowed her eyes at her. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“I don’t.” Bella fussed with some flyers on her desk. “What look?”
“Yeah, you do.” Rising to her feet, Liz jabbed a sparkly blue nail at her. “It’s the same one you wore every other time we ran into each other.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did too.” With a smirk, Liz crossed her arms over her chest. “I know it well.”
Stumped for a comeback, Bella went with airy. “Did you come in for anything specific or just to say hi?”
Liz shrugged. “Just to say hi.”
“Great.” It sounded a little overenthusiastic, so Bella toned it down. “Hi.”
“Tell me what’s with the face.”
Bella went hot and then cold. Her hands shook as she moved a pot of pens over to the right and back again. She didn’t fight because it made her want to throw up, but Liz looked determined with her jaw sticking out like that. She reached deep and hauled out a stronger version of Bella. “You flirted with Matt.”
“And?” Tap, tap, tap went Liz’s dominatrix-type boot on the carpet.
“He’s married.” Why did she even have to explain this?
“So?”
Bella snapped her jaw shut before she caught flies. “You can’t go around flirting with married men.”
“I flirted with him, Tight-butt Bella, I didn’t fuck him.”
The world skewed a little to the left before righting itself. Her hands flew away from her and knocked over her pen holder. “What did you call me?”
“Tight-butt Bella.” Liz stuck out her hip. “Just like you’ve been calling me Headlights.”
“Wh . . . well . . .” Nothing. Not a coherent thought in her brain. “Tight-butt?”
“Yeah.” Liz tossed her head. “Because you always look like you have a stick up your ass. At least that’s how you look when I’m around.”
“I do—”
“You know what?” Liz snatched her bag and tossed it over her shoulder. “This isn’t going to work. You think I’m the town whore and I think you’re the town nun. We don’t like each other.” She adjusted the strap on her shoulder. “We had a bit of fun. No hard feelings. See ya.”
On that, she stormed out the door, setting the bell jangling, but not before Bella caught the hurt hidden behind all that glittering anger.
“Damn.” Legs shaking, she tottered over to the sofa and sat. The heavy musk of Liz’s perfume hung in the air. She did have a look when Liz appeared. At least she used to, until the hanging of the Christmas lights. Nana had that same look when she disapproved of something someone did. In Nana’s case, the look made it onto her face all the time.
Was she that bad?
Bella got up and stood before one of the floor-length mirrors. Her eyes looked too big in her pale face, but it didn’t really echo Nana’s pursed-up face. Dredging up Liz flirting with Matt, she tried again.
Her squeak sounded loud in the empty store. Nana stared back at her. “No.”
* * *
Light shone from Liz’s windows and spilled golden onto her snowy yard as Bella arrived home that night. She’d thought about it all day, and she didn’t want to lose her friendship with Liz. Okay, too soon to call it a friendship, but she liked Liz.
Before she chickened out, she strode up Liz’s walk and rang the doorbell.
Liz yanked open the door and glared at her. “Yes?”
“You left today.”
“Yeah.” Liz sneered. “That’s what I do when I know someone doesn’t want me there.”
“The thing about Tight-butt hurt.”
“Oh, and Headlights is so much better.” Liz crossed her arms, hunching her shoulders up around her ears.
Bella gathered her courage. “You’re right. It’s not a nice thing to call you, but I don’t call you that anymore. Not since I got to know you a bit better.”
“Huh?” Liz looked like she might stay mad for a long time.
“Anyway.” Bella motioned toward her house. “I have to go, but I wanted to say sorry about Headlights.”
She turned and walked back to her house.
Liz’s voice stopped her before she hit her porch. “Going anywhere special?”
“I have a date.” Her nerves started up, saying it aloud.
“With that guy from the bar?”
“Uh . . . yes.” Liz had seemed far too busy with Noel to notice much at the bar.
“He the one who sent you flowers?”
Debbie had a big mouth and must have been exercising it. “Yes.”
Liz took a couple of steps onto her porch. “I don’t call you Tight-butt anymore either.”
Warmth flickered into life inside Bella’s chest. “Good. I’m glad.”
“I still think you’re a bit uptight.” Liz rubbed her arms against the cold. “But you have potential.”
“Thanks; I think.”
Liz grinned. “And I totally overreacted today.” She trotted across the lawn separating their houses. “I just get so mad when I think people are judging me.”
Maybe if Liz toned down the vamp routine people might not judge her so harshly. Then again, maybe if people took the time to get to know Liz, they wouldn’t be so quick to judge. Of course, Bella chickened out of saying any of that and nodded.
“So.” Liz stopped at the bottom of the porch. “What are you wearing tonight?”
A tiny, wavering olive branch but held out to her nonetheless. “I don’t know. Want to help me decide?”
* * *
For a woman who dressed herself like a pole dancer, Liz surprised Bella with her taste. They agreed on a slightly retro slim-fit dress that curved in all the right places but didn’t scream desperate. They went understated on the makeup and the hair loose and wavy.
Bella checked herself out. Somehow, they’d achieved the right balance between looking like you took the date seriously and not as if you hadn’t had a date in three years. Not that Bella intended to admit that to anyone. Ever.
Shallow Ghost Falls dating pool aside, Bella took some of the blame for her dating dearth. When you spent your teens fixated on one man to the exclusion of all others—and a man who didn’t share your fixation—you got in the habit of having no man.
On Liz’s advice, she called Wheeler Barrows for a lift.
“If the date goes well, Adam will be driving you home,” Liz said. “But don’t, whatever you do, sleep with him on the first date.”
Bella snorted. “Is that your dating philosophy?”
“Ah, hell no.” Liz scrunched up her face. “But I date to get laid. I’m thinking it’s different for you, so hold on to the poontang.”
Who but Liz said poontang? Still, Bella had no intention of handing over the . . . er . . . poontang.
“And if the date’s a total bust.” Eating her leftover Halloween candy, Liz lounged on her bed. “You get Wheeler to take you home and you don’t have to do the awkward failed-date car ride.”
Wheeler pulled up outside her door in time to stop her joining Liz at the Halloween candy. Nerves hiked up her need for chocolate.
“Wow, Bella.” Wheeler got out and opened the door for her. His cheeks went a little pink. “You look really nice.”
The only Barrows kid who amounted to much, he was saving for college by running the one and only Ghost Falls taxi. Rumor had it that Pippa’s grandmother, the former opera diva Philomene St. Amor, had helped him buy the car. Then again, Philomene had her bejeweled fingers in all sorts of Ghost Falls pies.
Still, he deserved a good tip, and his compliment had given her a little bit of desperately needed confidence.
Adam waited in a small reception area in front of the restaurant. A broad smile on his handsome face, he stood as she came in. “Bella.” He took her hand and kissed it. “You’re well worth the wait.”
The hand-kissing she could have skipped, but the sincere warmth in his brown eyes fizzled through her like moon rock candy on her tongue. “You look nice yourself.”
She meant it. In a dark, beautifully cut suit with a crisp white shirt and understated tie, Adam looked great.
As he guided her through the bar, several women gave him a quick eye strip. “I thought we’d have a drink first and then get some dinner.” He pulled out her barstool for her. “Unless you’re hungry.”
“I’m good with that.” A drink would settle those remaining butterflies.
“Perfect.” He beamed at her. “Shall I order for you?”
“Umm . . .”
“Appletini?”
Not again. She still had that vague notion that something had happened with her dress and Nate that she really needed to remember. “I’ll have a glass of white wine.”
“I was sure you were drinking appletinis when we met.” He looked even more handsome when he frowned.
“I was.” She smiled and decided to skip the explanation. “But I feel like something else tonight.”
“Great.” He smiled, but the crease between his brows lingered. When he turned back from placing their order, Clark Kent was back in place. “So, tell me all about Bella.”
“There’s not much to tell really. Raised in Ghost Falls. Still in Ghost Falls. I took over the family business.”
He raised his eyebrows, which she took as a sign to tell him more.
“It’s a high-end women’s clothing store. Called Bella’s.” Her face heated. She would love to change the name, but that fight she didn’t have the stomach for. One thing for certain: If she ever had a daughter, she wouldn’t be naming her any permutation of Bella. In fact, she wouldn’t be naming her anything vaguely Italian-sounding. With a last name like Erikson, it only led to confusion. “At least I’m making it into a high-end clothing store.”
“What is it now?”
Jo appeared on the other side of the bar with their drinks. “Hey, Bella.”
“Jo.” Bella liked the one Evans sister. It had to have been tough growing up with all those brothers. “You working here now?”
“Yeah.” Jo scrunched up her nose. “Trying to make up shifts to pay for college.” She arranged a coaster beneath Bella’s wine. “I mean, Matt or Eric would totally pay for it, but I want to do this myself.”
Bella knew exactly what she meant. “I think it’s great that you are.”
Jo laughed, a beautiful flash of white teeth and sparkling eyes. “Yeah, just a lot tougher.”
Adam cleared his throat.
“Ah.” Heat crept back over her face. She smiled an apology at Adam. “I’m sorry. Adam, this is Jo Evans. An old friend. Jo, this is Adam . . .”
“Smith.” Adam held his hand out to Jo. “Adam Smith.”
“Seriously?” As she took his hand, Jo grinned.
Adam flushed and rolled his eyes. “Seriously. It’s only one step away from John Smith. Nice to meet you, Jo.”
Adam lifted his scotch and toasted Bella. “To the most beautiful woman in the room.”
“Anyway.” Jo swiped her cloth over the bar. “I don’t want to interrupt. I’d better get back.” She made a vague waving motion toward the other end of the bar.
“Bye, Jo.” Bella fanned her face. Admittedly, she was a blusher, but this beat her all-time record, set at the time she’d had to act as Nate’s wife in drama class.
“Why don’t we move into the restaurant?” Adam cupped her elbow and boosted her off the barstool. “Then I can have you all to myself.”