Nervous Flier Page 2

  "To be honest, not so good." Noel groaned. "Is there any way I can meet with you to talk to you about something? I think it's better to ask for a favor if you're looking somebody in the eye."

  "A favor, huh?" Dawson's tone didn't change and maintained the same bubbly enthusiasm. "That's fine. What are you doing now?"

  "Now?" Noel glanced around the intimate coffee shop in surprise, taking in the red umbrellas and baristas in prim white shirts and black slacks. "I'm sitting at a coffee shop, being depressed."

  "Well it's best not to be depressed alone." Dawson's voice revealed he was grinning because of his tone. "What's the name of the coffee shop?

  Noel swiveled in her chair and caught sight of a sign. "Mark and Anna's Daily Addictive."

  "Ah. Okay." Dawson chuckled. "I'll be there in a few minutes. I'll look up the address on my computer."

  The sound of dial tone filled her ears, leaving Noel staring at the cell phone with large eyes. Is he always that full of energy? Noel wasn't sure if she should give Dawson any coffee. The man had so much vigor already that anything extra was likely to have him careening around the shop like a rubber bouncy ball in a cement room. Yet the thought of meeting with Dawson pushed Peter truly from her mind for the first time in days.

  ****

  As Dawson sat across from her, Noel was shocked she hadn't accurately remembered just how good looking he was. He was tall and lean with lots of muscle and a bright face. Maybe her memory was poor and hadn't done him justice. Maybe Peter, the pig, had kept her from fully checking out Dawson. Maybe Dawson just kept getting better looking by the day. As Noel studied him, Dawson met her eyes and then gazed down at himself with his brows furrowed.

  "Do I have ketchup on my shirt or something?" Dawson asked.

  "What?" She blinked. "Why?"

  "You were staring at me for quite a long time there." Dawson cocked his head.

  "Oh. Sorry." Noel would have blushed, but she must have used up her allotment of embarrassment on Peter because all she felt was numbness in the face of her ogling. "You're very attractive. That's all."

  Dawson eyes widened with shock. "And you're extremely honest."

  "I think that's how the world should be." With a sigh, Noel stared at her fingers. "Unfortunately, that's not the way it always is."

  Dawson didn't say anything. Instead he stood up, turned around, and headed inside the clear glass door of the coffee shop. Noel stared after him as he approached the counter and wondered what he had planned. Had she frightened him off with her depressed behavior or her honesty? Not everybody liked honest people. Most wanted to hear what they liked and preferred to keep it that way.

  As Noel wrung her hands in anxiety, Dawson came back out again with a plate of chocolate cake and two forks in his hand. The cake had six layers and lots of thick, creamy icing. The top of the cake was covered in light brown milk chocolate frosting and what appeared to be raspberry gel. The smell of chocolate wafted over to her as Dawson placed the cake in the middle of the table and handed her a plastic fork. Dawson then sat down.

  "What's this?" Shocked by Dawson's actions, Noel stared at her fork as if she had never seen one before.

  Dawson speared a bite of cake while grinning. "Chocolate cake."

  "I mean, why chocolate cake?" She raised an eyebrow.

  "Would you prefer something else?" Dawson's fork hovered between plate and mouth with a gob of chocolate ecstasy at the end of it. "They have some great soups too. I always eat when I'm depressed."

  For a second Noel didn't say anything. The bite of succulent chocolate cake flopped off the end of Dawson's fork like a demented diver from a diving board and landed on the table with a splat. Eyes wide with surprise, Dawson glanced down at the chocolate cake on the table, appearing shocked that he had had cake on his fork at all. Suddenly, Noel couldn't help herself. She broke off into a fit of laughter. Dawson was a strange mixture between cute and masculine sexy, not at all like Peter who was Mr. Mysterious all the time. As Noel laughed, the look of shock on Dawson's face disappeared and he smiled at her.

  "That's better." Dawson cocked his head. "I like the happy you much better."

  His words immediately made her stop laughing and start flushing. "What? Really?"

  "Sure." Dawson shrugged. "You have a cute smile. Did anybody ever tell you that you have dimples?"

  She clapped her hand to her cheek as if her dimple was a fly. "It was my nickname during primary school, actually."

  "I'm not surprised." Dawson placed his fork on the plate. "They really are something."

  "What are you saying?" Noel placed both hands on her cheeks now.

  "I thought you said you liked honesty?" Dawson chuckled.

  "I'm not sure this is honesty as much as flattery." Noel shook her head.

  "It's honest flattery." Dawson put his chin on his hand. "So tell me, are we going to eat this cake or just decorate the table with it?"

  With a snort of laughter, Noel plunged her fork into the cake and then took a mouthful. As the succulent, rich flavors of chocolate and raspberry tangoed on her tongue, she shut her eyes and sighed in ecstasy. Over the past couple of days, depression had kept her lingering in her hotel room. She hadn't even gone on her usual melancholy binge of snack cakes and salty chips. This cake, with all its many layers of delicacy and flavor, was just what she needed. And so was Dawson.

  ****

  Noel plastered herself against Dawson's front as they stumbled up the sidewalk off Main Street. She was full of succulent prime rib, baked potatoes, and carrots. The wine she had drunk gave her a happy buzz. To think she had started the day in a bad mood. Peter still entered her mind fleetingly, but she was having way too much fun with Dawson to care. Was she fickle for getting feelings for another man after a two year relationship so quickly? Maybe she was. But then again, most of her and Peter's relationship had been online anyway. Some part of her wondered whether she should even consider it a relationship anymore.

  As they walked, Noel felt Dawson grab her hand. His palm was warm and soft. She knew she should not let him hold her hand. With Peter, she had had a whirlwind romance too, but look how that had turned out. Peter had been somebody she hadn't even known; a mask which hid the shadowy demon beneath the surface. Yet Dawson was so different from Peter, even now at the very beginning. Peter wouldn't have tried to calm down a frightened woman in an airplane. In fact, the first time they had met, it had been the opposite. Peter had been lost and had needed her to calm him down. The irony was not lost on her.

  As they headed up the street, Dawson came to a sudden halt in front of a large, two-story house with bay windows and a green garden. Tulips danced along a pure white fence. The house was red with black shutters and the inside curtains were faint ivy green. A thick flower bush was in the corner of the yard by the fence. The house had a feminine touch which made her uneasy. She reminded herself that Dawson was not Peter and that he likely didn't have a hidden fiancé somewhere, but still her anxiety did not go away.

  "Nice house," Noel said, brows furrowing.

  "Thanks." Dawson scratched the back of his neck. "I love it. I probably shouldn't have bought a house when I go abroad so much, but it's nice to have the same place to come home to after traveling. It still feels like home no matter how long I've been gone. Luckily, my sister, Kendra, is a great person and helps keep up the garden while I'm gone."

  Noel nodded her head. The need to feel at home was definitely something she understood. Her old house in Australia was something she greatly missed. It had been a rental, but still, she felt as if the old yellow house with blue shutters was home. She even missed the stray cat, Pudding, who came for her leftovers every night. A tingle of homesickness danced down her spine, but she fought it down. This was the time for strength, not homesickness.

  "So I'm a little too drunk to drive you back to your hotel like we planned, but I think I can get us a taxi to take us back from here." Dawson patted her shoulder. "Do you feel comfortable coming inside for a mom
ent? I promise I won't do anything."

  The words were so similar to Peter's on the first date that she almost cringed. Of course, the moment she had walked through the door of the hotel room Peter had pushed himself against her like a dog in heat, and with all of his handsomeness, she had responded with equal fervor. It wasn't like she could blame Peter for sleeping with her if she had let him do it and enjoyed it just as much as he did. The thought that he had a girlfriend on the side at the time—or even several girlfriends—made her cringe. She didn't know how she would react if Dawson tried something. Though she found Dawson to be even more attractive than Peter, she didn't want to make the mistake she had before all over again.

  "Are you okay?" Dawson drew her from her thoughts with his concerned words.

  After nodding, Noel turned her attention toward the house again. Dawson's smile slipped from his face and he headed for his front door. After she followed him up to it, Dawson dug around in his pocket and pulled out a copper key. He inserted the key into the door and then stepped inside. Noel hesitated at the threshold as she gazed into the darkened hallway. Her heart thundered in her chest as she strained to breathe. In front of her, Dawson headed deeper down the hallway. He turned on the light, then turned around to grin at her. When she did not come inside, he raised an eyebrow in silent question. After taking a deep breath, Noel stepped inside the house, feeling as though she was knowingly diving into an active volcano.

  As Noel followed Dawson down the hall, she examined the sky blue walls hung with ocean paintings. When she entered the kitchen which adjoined with a spacious, carpeted living room painted ivy green, she noted once again that this place didn't have the feel of a bachelor pad. As she took in the dark green leather couch, she did notice, though, a layer of dust which blanketed the material. A wave of relief washed over Noel. Maybe Dawson was just a guy with artistic décor. The man owned a travel magazine, after all. That called for creative zeal.

  "Sorry it's so dirty." Dawson took her examination of the dirt as a bad thing instead of as a good thing. "I haven't gotten around to getting it cleaned yet. I might bring in my regular cleaning lady to do it."

  "I wish I could afford a regular cleaning lady." Noel pouted, then straightened up.

  "I get a discount. My sister owns a cleaning company."

  Dawson beamed at her as if discounts on cleaning were all a man could ever want and then leaned down and opened one of his drawers and pulled out a phone book. On the lemon yellow kitchen wall, Noel saw an off-white house phone. She was shocked that a man with obvious wealth would have to use a house phone and a phone book when he could easily afford a new phone with internet access.

  "Not much of a phone guy?" Noel asked. "I’m used to everybody having a cell phone search engine."

  "Not really. I like to enjoy nature. I get too addicted to texting and forget the world exists. You would think I would love phones with the amount of technology I use to produce my magazines, but nope." Dawson flipped to the right page of the phone book and ran his finger down the lines of text. "Plus, everybody calls me on my house phone. You did."

  "I see." Good thing I didn't text him. "I guess that makes sense."

  "Don't worry. When I get a cell phone, you'll be the first person I'll tell." Dawson grinned at her, then once again began to examine the phone book. "Which sounds better? Ralphy Mendez Taxi Service or Driving with Mr. Michael's?"

  For a moment Noel didn't say anything. She was shocked. When she had gone into Peter's hotel room, this was when he had shoved her against the wall and pawed at her shirt. Maybe Dawson didn't find her attractive enough to do that. Maybe he wasn't into bigger women and found her ugly. Her stomach sunk in disappointment. You idiot, she chided herself. Why are you disappointed? You didn't want him to attack you. But her stomach sunk anyway. As much as she imagined shoving Dawson away, she had wanted him to approach her. The fact made her feel dirty. After all, she had just been broken up with. She should have been in mourning, not feeling hot, bothered, and grumpy that a man didn't want to rip off her clothes.

  "I think Ralphy Mendez Taxi Service sounds better," Dawson continued as if she had spoken. "Driving with Mr. Michael's sounds a bit creepy to me, for some reason. I'll be going with you to make sure you get home all right, but let's not take any chances, shall we?"

  Noel blinked as she tried to recover. It was ridiculous how hurt she felt about the fact Dawson hadn't pawed her breasts. "Right. Ralphy Mendez it is."

  "Great." Dawnson's brows furrowed as he gazed at her with open-mouthed concern. "You okay? Your eyes got a little squinty. Would you like to know where the toilet is in case you need to throw up?"

  "No. I'm fine." Noel frowned.

  Right now, the only thing she wanted to do was throw a plate.

  Chapter ThreeJackpot, Noel thought as she sat in the back office of the coffee shop she had eaten chocolate cake with Dawson at the night before. Sure, the dusty back office made her eyes water, but that was okay. Maybe working a coffee machine wasn't worthy of her art degree, but she thought it was far better than scrubbing out grease vats. She could save painting portraits by the Rhine river for another day. As Noel squirmed in excitement as the manager—an old, feeble man with a bald head—gazed down at her with intense eyes, she tried to fight down her smile. The man had a nametag that said, 'Mr. Smithfield.'

  "So you've never worked in a coffee shop before?" Mr. Smithfield asked.

  "Never, sir." Noel shook her head. "I'm open to learning, though."

  "I'm sure you are." Mr. Smithfield had a deep, raspy voice that was not unpleasant. "And you had perfect timing with approaching me about a job. One of my boys quit. I'm glad you aren't a high school student. They work three months out of the year, then pack in their bags the moment you tell them they can't go to a party because they didn't ask for the night off in the schedule book."

  Noel didn't say anything. She had met plenty of responsible high school students who wouldn't do that, but she didn't feel it was best to antagonize the boss just as she was hired. Plus, she had the distinct feeling that she wouldn't be dealing with Mr. Smithfield much on the floor of the coffee shop. Half of the coffee shop was outside, and Mr. Smithfield's bleach skin suggested that he might use an umbrella to protect his head from the sunlight as he walked to his car.

  "All right." Mr. Smithfield glowered at some paperwork on his desk. "I'll put you into the schedule and will have you trained with Lisa Clark. Can you come in Thursday night?"

  "Yes." Noel had to fight down the excited squeak in her voice at the thought that she wasn't going to be living in a cardboard box by the side of the road. "Thursday night will be great."

  "Good. I like you already. I'll see you then." Mr. Smithfield grinned at her.

  Beaming, Noel stood up, then offered her hand for Mr. Smithfield to shake. After he grabbed her hand and shook it with a firm grip, he released her. Noel left the back office and stumbled into the main part of the coffee shop. The smell of coffee greeted her, a pleasant but not overwhelming scent, and she breathed in deep, enjoying it. A dark-haired girl with a blue streak in her bangs grinned and waved at her, and Noel waved back. At least the people here were pleasant, way more pleasant than anybody she had worked with at her last job at an art firm. She had been the secretary under the CEO, and the man had been as crotchety as a horse with a thorn in its rump.

  As Noel whistled as she hit Main Street, the feeling of her phone buzzing in her pocket caused her to pause and dig in her pants. For a moment her mind flashed to Peter and all of the joy she felt depleted like a pool with a hole at the bottom of it. When Noel saw it was Dawson, not Peter, who called her, her heart picked right up but then fell again. It felt as though her heart was on a roller coaster. She couldn't not think about the fact that Dawson hadn't made a move on her last night. Dawson had not even given her a single peck. She was probably barking up the wrong tree, but she answered her phone anyway, just to share her exciting news.

  "Hello, Dawson," Noel said.

&
nbsp; "Hi, Noel." Dawson's voice sounded as bubbly as ever. "Do you want to hear something idiotic of me? Last night, we spent the whole evening together but I completely forgot to ask what the favor you wanted was. That was the point of the whole night, wasn't it?"

  "Not the whole point, exactly." Noel smiled. "At least, not at the end. I had a great time."

  "Well maybe next time I take you on a date, it won't be because you need a favor." Dawson had a teasing edge to his voice, but she noted a hint of seriousness in his tone.

  A date? It really was a date? The last time Noel had been on a date with a man who didn’t try to stick his tongue down her throat had been when she was fifteen years old. Yet the thought of it being a date regardless of that fact—and that he had said again—still made her want to skip. Her thoughts immediately jumped to Peter again. She was definitely fickle. What kind of woman started dating days after she found out her boyfriend of two years was actually a royal asshole? Though most of her brain produced silence, a small voice said, "A smart one, because no matter what he said, he never really was your boyfriend at all." Pinching hurt filled her, but she shook her head and focused on what was important. Dawson.

  "You can take me out tonight without it being because of a favor." Noel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I took care of the problem myself. I was actually looking for a place to get a job, and I found one."

  "Really?" Dawson responded with such enthusiasm it almost made her laugh. He sounded more excited than she felt. "And if that doesn't work out, I do have some great connections. But we must go out and celebrate. How about I pick you up at eight o'clock at your hotel? I know just the place we can go for a situation like this."

  ****

  The restaurant was French, fancy, and expensive. Even sitting in a plush red chair while clutching a goblet of red wine made Noel nervous. Classical music played as a waiter in a suit wandered around taking orders. A dessert tray of glistening delicacies taunted her from the corner. But all of those extras were nothing compared to the man who sat across from her. Dawson, gorgeous as ever, was far more tempting than all of the desserts in the world, even if he looked like a kid playing dress-up in his suit. He had even attempted to slick back his golden blond locks, but his hair sprung out and framed his face, refusing to give in to the assault. Noel wanted to laugh, but she didn't because she was touched Dawson had gone so far to please her. Peter had never done anything like this.