Chapter Eighteen
Noelle sat at her desk in the studio and tried to focus. With the performance behind them, things had settled down a bit. She shied away from using the word “normal” often, but without the stress and chaos, life was feeling a bit more normal.
Of course, it had only been one day since Saturday. Since the performance and the second Bake-Off. She’d spent the previous day sleeping in, walking to the grocery store to stock the fridge and pantry, something that had been neglected with all the craziness going on, and she had even put her feet up to read a book. It had been ages since she’d taken the time to do that. However, it didn’t take her mind off Wes the way she’d hoped it would. Reading a romance novel didn’t help, but they were her favorite. She never tired of a happily ever after ending, even if there wasn’t one in the cards for her. Not with Wes St. Claire anyway.
Holly kept trying to convince her otherwise. And in truth, Noelle’s harsh feelings toward him were fading. Maybe it was because of time or a small part of her admitting she may have overreacted just a tad. But either way, it didn’t matter. He was leaving Marietta when the Bake-Off was over so there was no point in pursuing things between them. Why fight for something that had no future?
Holly had come home after the Bake-Off having spent time at Grey’s with Jeff and some friends, saying that the word in town was everyone was excited about Spellman making part of his movie in Marietta. There was no buzz about anything changing and most everyone thought the added exposure would do the town good, not harm. Yet another reason to concede that she may have been too harsh on Wes. Even so, friendship was her best option. The fact that she’d fallen for the man had to be irrelevant. Something she pushed down and prayed would go away over time as well.
She’d even turned her phone off all day. Wes had texted asking what day worked for her to bake together, but she’d only seen it that morning and answered that Wednesday would be best. He hadn’t tried to push her to talk beyond logistics of the final Bake-Off, which she appreciated. However, they’d be spending all morning together Wednesday in his kitchen—a place she chose this time for the simple fact that if she wanted to leave, she could. It was much easier to grab her coat and go if things got heated between them again than to try and kick him out of her apartment. His dad and Glenna would most likely be there as well, which would help keep things friend zoned between them.
Although part of her recognized there was always a chance things would heat up in a way that had them kissing again, it was something she had to keep from happening at all costs. If Wes worked his way into her heart again, there’d be no turning back. No matter how much she told herself otherwise.
She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Her desk was covered in precious cards and little gifts from her students, all thanking her for her hard work and saying how much they enjoyed the performance. Overwhelmed by gestures of such kindness, she didn’t know where to start. Not only had she’d fallen for Wes St. Claire, she’d fallen for the town of Marietta as well. Too bad she couldn’t have both.
As she opened a card and tiny heart confetti poured out of it, the chime above the front door dinged. Her heart skipped a beat, caught between hoping it wasn’t Wes who had come to see her and hoping it was. Franchesca came through her office door and dropped herself into a chair. Noelle masked her disappointment and told herself to be relieved instead.
“Hey, friend. You get any rest yesterday?”
“Yeah. Well, sort of.”
Noelle brushed heart confetti off her desk and into the wastebasket beside it. “Sort of?”
“I caught up on errands and stuff I hadn’t done being so busy with getting ready for the show.”
“Ah, I did the same myself.”
“No downtime?”
“Some.”
“Well, I hope you’re rested enough to hear what I have to tell you.”
Noelle sat back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. Was Wes okay? Had he said something to Franchesca? She mentally shook her head and berated herself for always thinking about Wes. The world didn’t revolve around the man. Certainly not her world. But the instinct to hope he was all right, that nothing bad had happened, was her knee-jerk reaction now. Yet another thing to work on since he would be leaving soon.
“What is it?”
“Can I make tea first? We’re both gonna need it.”
In her mind, Noelle cursed her friend’s desire to add drama to every situation as she said, “Yes. Help yourself.”
Franchesca left the room and Noelle listened to cupboards opening and closing, the faucet running water, and the clank of ceramic against the counter as Franchesca moved around the tiny break room next to Noelle’s office.
After what felt like hours, her friend came back in with two steaming mugs and set one down for Noelle before claiming her seat once more across the desk and taking a sip. With a sigh, she leaned back in her chair.
“You’re killing me, you know that right?”
“Normally I would admit to stretching things out for dramatic effect, but this time, I’m merely trying to form the words to say what I need to.”
Good Lord, now Noelle was beyond worried. She hoped for a lot of reasons whatever Franchesca had to say, it wasn’t about Wes. Although, the other possibilities that raced through Noelle’s mind weren’t any better. She cared about a lot of people in Marietta. Bad news about anyone wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
“As I said, I was running errands yesterday and I cut up 2nd to Church Avenue. I wanted to stop by the drama studio with some stuff I’d bought. I overheard voices in one of the alleys. I thought that was weird. Marietta is a safe place. People don’t tend to lurk in alleys, ya know?”
“Okay.” Noelle had zero idea where her friend was going with this, but she tamped down her desire to rush her and continued to listen.
“I stopped where I wouldn’t be seen but could hear what they were saying.”
“You eavesdropped?”
Franchesca made a face at Noelle over her mug. “Yes, I eavesdropped. Don’t judge. You can’t honestly say you’ve never done that in your lifetime.”
Fair enough. Noelle waved a hand at her to proceed.
“Anyway, I was able to peek around the corner and had to fight to stay quiet when I saw it was Ronald Spellman! He was with some guy and they were looking up at the side of one of the buildings, saying how they would change things.” Franchesca had set her mug down and had a hand to her chest as if to hold herself together.
“Wes said when he met with Spellman he admitted to changing some of the facades of the building to match the storyline and setting of his film.” Although her argument was valid, even Noelle felt it fell flat. Something wasn’t right.
“True.” Franchesca pointed at her with the hand not plastered to her chest. “But he continued talking and said he wants to level the buildings and build from the ground up.”
Noelle sat forward in her chair. “What?”
“Yeah. He’s going to buy our building and then level it.”
Noelle sat back again as if Franchesca had pushed her.
“I know, right? I stood there in the street with my mouth hanging open just like yours is now.”
Noelle clasped her lips together and shook her head. “But…”
“I know what Wes said, but Spellman has different plans.”
How could he? Did Wes know this and not tell her? No. He was a businessman, but he wasn’t heartless. Or was he? She’d only known him a short time.
“I see your wheels spinning, girlfriend. And I don’t think for a second your boy had anything to do with this or had any knowledge of it. The way Spellman was all secretive and stealthy in that alleyway, I have a feeling he wants this kept under wraps until the deal goes through.”
Franchesca might be right, but with Wes keeping it from her that he had anything to do with the deal in the first place, and then meeting with Spellman without telling her, she questioned everything. Not to mention the knot in her gut now forming over losing her studio.
“Like I said, we needed some seriously strong tea to help swallow this nugget of news.” Franchesca lifted her mug again to her lips and sipped.
Neither woman said anything for what felt like hours. The tick-tock of the clock on the wall along with Franchesca’s sipping of her tea were the only sounds. Like pieces of a puzzle, all the information in Noelle’s head moved around but couldn’t find a place to land, not anywhere that made sense anyway.
How could Wes not know about this? She thought back to their conversations and, although he’d kept his knowledge of the deal from her, she didn’t get a vibe that he’d ever flat-out lied to her. Not point blank. He did seem to believe the deal was a solid one. But Marietta meant nothing to him. Maybe he’d heard of Spellman’s plans and blew it off, knowing he’d be gone by the time things went down anyway.
“Hey. Sweetie. Don’t beat yourself up on this one. We’ll figure things out.”
She meant well, but Franchesca’s words did little to soothe the ache that now spread through Noelle’s whole body. She’d just settled into Marietta. Sure, she and Franchesca could rent from another building, but their studios were all set up just right and the theater next door made for the perfect corner. They’d packed the house at their performance, people saying how wonderful it was to have the arts in Marietta. Some even talked of how to add other cultural events throughout the year. As great as the rodeo was for the town’s history, there was room for more ways to embrace and celebrate the town and its heritage.
The door chimed. A mom of one of her students called out.
“I’ll be right there!” Noelle answered. She stood and moved around the desk, stopping next to Franchesca. “Thanks for coming by to tell me. Let’s talk more later, okay?”
“Do you think we should tell someone?”
“Not yet. I’m not sure it would do any good anyway. Spellman is big-time. I doubt anyone could or would cross him. Even if they did, he could deny it and do what he wants anyway.”
“True.”
“Hey. We’ll figure this out together.”
Franchesca nodded and stood. “Yes. I’m gonna go next door. I’ll check in with you later.”
“Sounds good. Love you, friend.”
“Love you too.”
Franchesca left as Noelle greeted the student’s mom and tried to mentally shift gears into dance teacher mode. But with the bomb Franchesca had just dropped, it was tough. Should she tell anyone? Wes, in particular. But what could he do? Her heart sank at the thought that he might already even know of Spellman’s plans.
As she attempted to listen to what the mom was saying about new ballet shoes for her daughter, Noelle pushed back her worries. She’d have to deal with Wes St. Claire and Ronald Spellman later.
*
Wes sat in his office. He flipped a pen through his fingers back and forth as he leaned back in his chair and stared out the window.
Saying he didn’t have time for a face-to-face meeting, Ronald Spellman had agreed to a phone meeting the day before. As convenient as email, text, and phone calls could be, Wes preferred seeing the person he was talking to, especially when it came to business. Not unlike poker, a business meeting could show various gestures, tics, small tells that someone was lying or bluffing. And reading a person’s eyes was Wes’s strong suit. The eyes said everything. And with a carnival ride like Spellman, it was necessary.
Not being able to look into Spellman’s eyes as they talked yesterday rubbed Wes wrong. On paper, the deal looked fine. And sure, Spellman had said once again that nothing in the deal had changed; he was in town simply to look in person at the buildings he was buying and to make a positive appearance in Marietta. But the man was…unstable. Whether his feelings for Noelle were a factor or not, Wes didn’t have a good vibe. He hated that.
“Your mind sure is a million miles away.”
Lost in thought, he hadn’t heard his dad enter the room.
“Hi, Dad. Sorry. Please, come in.”
His dad took a seat across the desk from him. “I’ve always loved this room. You and I are alike in so many ways.”
Were they? Wes didn’t used to think so, seeing his dad as distant. Unreachable. But after things Mike had said, as well as some long-needed soul searching, he had to admit, his old man was right.
“What’s got your mind so far off?”
Wes leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on his desk. “This deal with Spellman.”
“You think it’s a good one.”
It wasn’t a question. He and his dad had talked over the past few days and both agreed it could be a win-win for everyone involved. “I did. Now I’m not so sure.”
Daniel St. Claire sat up straighter in his chair. The years had been good to Wes’s dad. He was a handsome man. Some had compared him to Paul Newman. But the time taking care of Marian St. Claire had taken its toll and he’d aged because of it. “What’s your concern?”
Wes leaned back again, restless. “I don’t have anything solid, but I don’t like that he just showed up here without telling anyone. Why so secretive?”
His dad rubbed his chin. “I hadn’t thought of that. We met the other day. Things seemed good. He was excited about the film.” He shrugged. “When Ron called me originally, I thought this might be good for the town. Sure, he’s quacky, but quacky is this business’s middle name.”
“I don’t know, Dad. On paper, it looks good. But something doesn’t sit right.”
“Would that something have anything to do with an elegant dancer you’re in love with?”
Hearing those words from Mike was one thing. Out of his dad’s mouth, they all but stunned him.
“I don’t know…what…?”
“Don’t even try to argue with me, son. I know you better than you think I do. Where do you think you got your talent for reading people?”
Wes had to concede to that. Daniel St. Claire was uncanny at reading people.
And what good was it to anyone to fight that man? Wes did love Noelle. Why fight it?
“Yeah. I love her.” He looked out the window. “But I’m afraid I may have screwed that up for good.”
His dad stood. “Nah. I wouldn’t say that. Women can be wonderful, forgiving creatures. Sometimes it just takes the right grand gesture to help them along.” He winked and turned to leave but stopped in the doorway. “I have faith in you, son. You’ll figure it all out.”
As he watched his father leave the room, Wes couldn’t decide if it shocked him more to have his dad say he had faith in him, or that they’d just had the closest thing to a heartfelt conversation in all of Wes’s life.
Either way, his dad’s idea wasn’t a bad one. Maybe he just needed a grand gesture to win back Noelle. Only thing was, he had no clue what it could be.