Secret North: Book 4 of The Wishes Series (41 page)

“You don’t look very happy these days, Ryan,” she told me, abandoning the grin. “Is everything okay?”

Like a lot of things Noelle said, I found her comment to be right out of left field. Apart from a few minor dramas I was happier than I’d ever been. I would’ve told her so but I was trying hard not to engage her in conversation.

“I’m fine.”

“No nerves about the wedding?” she asked, taking a seat.

I leaned back, trying to figure out the angle she was working. “I’m excited to be getting married.” My voice rose at the end, making it sound like a question.

“Of course.”

I was done playing so I cut to the chase. “Do you have something to say, Noelle?”

She shrugged, running both hands up and down the arms of the chair. “No, if you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

“Why would you think I’m anything but?”

“You’ve just never struck me as the marrying kind, that’s all,” she replied. “I like that about you.”

I frowned. I didn’t want Noelle to like anything about me – I’d done nothing to encourage her and wasn’t about to start. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m more than content with where I’m headed.”

“Soon it’ll be children and mundane day to day life…”

“What’s the alternative, Noelle?”

“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t have to be mundane,” she declared.

I was appalled. Noelle had been trying to catch my attention for a long time. Perhaps realising that time was running out, she was making a last ditch attempt to win me over.

“Please don’t go there,” I warned. “It’s going to make working here really awkward if I’m scared of you. I’ll probably have to sell.”

Her huge eyes widened. “I’m scaring you?”

“Totally freaking me out,” I confirmed with a rigid nod.

Noelle headed for the door. “You’ve changed, Ryan.” She sounded saddened by it. “I didn’t believe it at first, but I’m pretty sure you do actually belong to her. Good luck with everything.”

“Wait.” I couldn’t believe I’d called her back. “What were you hoping for?”

She shrugged. “Nothing serious.”

I almost smiled but feared she’d misinterpret it. There was a time when Noelle would’ve been exactly my type. She was pretty, blonde and, most importantly, willing. But I’d never even been tempted by her and the thought of being propositioned was downright terrifying. “How long have you worked here?”

“Nearly a year.”

It proved to me that the search for pecan pie girl had begun a long time before Bente got thrown out of a cab at my door. It brought me hope. It meant I’d been working at being a more decent man for a long time, which was epic because my fiancée deserved nothing less.

“You’ve just made my day, Noelle,” I told her.

“Why? Because I hit on you?”

I shook my head. “No, because I’m scared of you.”

***

Bente and I had both spent a lot of time at the club lately, just not usually at the same time. When she called and asked me to meet her there later that afternoon, I was a little surprised.

“I have something to show you,” she said excitedly.

I checked my watch. “I can meet you there in an hour.”

“Okay, but you need to hurry, Ryan. It’s important.”

“Why sweetheart?” Her urgency made me smile. “Does Grover Irwin have you holed up in the basement?”

“No.” She giggled. “Just get here as quick as you can.”

I was intrigued enough to escape the lunch time rush at Billet-doux and head down there, managing to arrive much earlier than promised. Bente met me at the door, pulling me inside by the lapels on my coat. I didn’t get a chance to speak. Before I knew what was happening, her mouth was on mine and I was fighting the urge to take things further.

“Hi,” she eventually murmured, barely breaking free to get the word out.

“Hello,” I breathed.

Her hands moved to my face as she inched my head back. “You’re not going to believe what I found today.”

I lurched forward, chasing her ruby lips. “Maybe not, but I like it so far.”

“I love you, Ryan,” she said solemnly. “We can dance every day if you want.”

Despite the randomness, it was probably the most endearing thing she’d ever said to me. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine.” She sounded calm, but she’d tightened her hold on my face. In fear of being crushed to death, I shifted her hands, holding them at her sides while I waited for her to speak again. “I spent the morning with Tiger.”

“I spent the morning at Billet-doux,” I retorted. “Noelle hit on me.”

“She did?” she asked, interested. “How did that go?”

I smiled apathetically. “I appreciated the effort.”

Bente nodded. “She does try hard.”

I laughed at the absurdity of the conversation. “Can you please show me whatever it is you found so we can get out of here?” I asked.

“It’s upstairs.” She gestured with her head.

I couldn’t believe the audacity of the old man. I owned one third of the building and had never been invited up. If not for Bridget, I wouldn’t have been permitted to see the backstage area either.

“What’s up there?”

Bente pulled me to the stairs. “Come and see for yourself.”

***

I left it to Bente to knock on the door.

“Do I look like a doorman?” came a crotchety voice from the other side. “It’s open.”

I tentatively turned the handle and ushered Bente in ahead of me. I wasn’t being polite. It was her idea to go up there so it only seemed fair that she’d be first in the line of fire if things turned bad. Tiger was lying back in an old recliner. “Hello again, Mr Malone,” she said cheerily.

“We meet again, Ginger.” His voice was rumblier than usual, which led me to think we’d woken him up.

“I brought my handsome man with me this time.” She waved her hand as if showing me off.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” he growled, looking at me. “How’s life treating you, kid?”

I stepped forward and shook his hand. “Fine, sir.”

Tiger reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar. I used the time it took him to light it to survey the room. As expected, it was a dive. Even the cobwebs on the light fitting were dusty.

“So what do you think of the place?” asked Tiger, pausing midway through his question to cough.

“Nice digs, Tiger.”

“You’re a rotten liar, kid.” He looked at Bente. “Don’t ever let him near a poker table. He’ll send you to the poor house.”

Bente giggled. “I won’t.”

I reached for her hand. “So what did you want to show me?” The putrid cigar smoke was making me feel sick. I wanted to hurry things along and get out of there.

She pointed to a row of pictures near the door. “Magic,” she whispered.

I took a step closer. It took me all of three seconds to work out what she was talking about.

“You like horses?” asked Tiger.

I stared at the picture, unable to find the breath I needed to answer him. The old black and white photo of the racehorse didn’t interest me. The name on the silk sash around the horse’s belly is what stole the air from my lungs.

“Secret North,” I whispered.

Bente hooked her arm around mine. Perhaps I looked in danger of dropping to the floor.

“The finest horse I ever saw,” Tiger announced proudly. “He had a muscly back end and a good broad chest. Better than that, he could run like hell. We almost snatched the Kentucky Derby with him back in ’63.”

Tiger had regaled Adam and I with his Kentucky Derby tale weeks ago, but not once had he mentioned the name of the horse. I wondered if things might’ve been different if he had.

“Bridget called it,” I whispered to Bente. “How did she know?”

Her shoulders lifted. “I don’t know, Ryan.”

I stood for a long time, trying to come up with a logical reason for what I was seeing. Coming up blank, my mind drifted to the conversation I’d had with Charli. “Deny it all you want to, but one day something extraordinary is going to happen and you’re not going to be able to explain it away,” she’d told me. “You won’t think it’s weird then. You’re going to think it’s magic.”

I took a step back, convinced I was going a little mad. I’d somehow wandered into La La Land.

Bridget’s description of Secret North had been dead-on. There were flowers on the roof, it was very special, and today the view was crystal clear.

For the first time in my life, I could see magic.

I couldn’t focus enough to string a sentence together. Luckily, I didn’t have to deal with Tiger any more. He was fast asleep in his chair. Bente gallantly took the cigar from his fingers and stubbed it out.

We didn’t say anything until we were at the bottom of the stairs. “What happens now?” she asked.

I shook my head, frowning. “I’m not entirely sure, but I know one thing: I’ve got to find a way of giving baby Bardot her wings back.”

70. GOOD ENOUGH

Bente

I’d known Ryan for a long time, but there were certain quirks that I’d only recently begun to notice. I was sure they weren’t new – I was just seeing him through different eyes these days. One habit was the way he shut down when he had a lot on his mind. He could go a full hour without speaking when his brain was busy. His brain was definitely busy that night, and I got the impression it was all magic related.

The silence didn’t bother me. Conversation wasn’t high on my agenda. Distracted or not, he was mine for the rest of the night.

***

Weird sleeping patterns were one of my quirks. Wide awake, I untangled myself from Ryan’s arms a little after two in the morning and crept to the living room. I had a mountain of notes from my sessions with Tiger that I could’ve worked on but I wasn’t up to writing. I checked my emails instead, and immediately wished I’d stayed in bed.

There was one from my mother. Before I opened it I knew it was bad news, and reading it just confirmed it. My parents had decided to give my wedding a miss in favour of an extended Caribbean cruise.

We got a great deal. I know you understand, Benny. Good luck with the wedding.

My mom’s nickname for me had always vexed me. Not only did she curse me with a stupid name that no one could pronounce, she went on to shorten it to the ridiculous moniker of Benny.

I could count on one hand the number of days I’d spent with my parents in the last five years. Ivy and I were pretty good at pretending not to take it personally. The truth was a little sadder. They were selfish and always had been. Their decision to blow off my wedding confirmed it.

I hated that it upset me so much. I hated it even more when Ryan stumbled into the room just as angry tears took over.

It wasn’t the first time he’d woken and found me sobbing. If he’d made a bolt for the door to escape the craziness I wouldn’t have blamed him.

“I’m not upset,” I sniffled, dropping my head in a stupid attempt to hide. “And I’m definitely not crying.”

Probably at a complete loss, he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long sip before even acknowledging me. “Are you sure you’re not crying?” he finally enquired. “Because if you are, I can handle it. I’ve got this moral support thing in the bag now.”

I lifted my head to look at him. Ryan stood half naked, leaning against the kitchen counter. Obviously he had being insanely handsome in the bag too.

I dried my eyes with the cuff of my sleeves and focused on breathing. “Definitely not crying,” I assured him.

Ryan leaned forward. I stretched to meet him half way and was rewarded with the most perfect of kisses. “Why are you
not
crying?” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.

I explained the email from my parents with the lack of detail it deserved.

“They’re really not coming?”

I straightened up and shook my head. “Do you think Adam will give me away? I don’t want to walk that huge aisle by myself.” Fiona’s choice of marriage venue was every bit as grand as the rest of her plans, and it wasn’t the intimate setting I was hoping for. A jumbo jet could safely land on the mile long carpeted aisle.

Ryan moved to my side of the counter and pulled me to my feet. “He’s best man,” he reminded me.

I melted against him, resting my cheek on his warm chest. “This wedding is shaping up to be a nightmare.”

“Don’t say that,” he soothed, stroking my hair. “What about Dad? Would you be okay with him walking you down the aisle?”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Good enough.”

Those two words summed it up perfectly. Everything to do with the wedding was just good enough. We were merely performers in a huge production orchestrated by Ivy and Fiona. And I sucked at acting.

71. NAKED AND SINGING

Ryan

Stealing her mother’s number from Bente’s phone didn’t seem like such a major crime considering my intentions were good. I planned to call her on the sly while Bente was in the shower, but hesitated because my little songbird picked that morning of all mornings to break into song.