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“Well, I have two more to go. Are you still in?”
“I’m in.”
People wandered past them, leaving with family and friends and plates of baked goods. The guy who’d burned his cookies was laughing with a group of friends who dared one another to give them a try.
Wes looked from them back to Noelle. “I owe Annalise one, that’s for sure. And I hope Lacey and her aunts aren’t disappointed with the cookies.”
“Ah yes. You weren’t aware of the bidding part of the auction?” she teased.
“Mock if you will, but I’ll admit I wasn’t quite ready for the idea of complete strangers bidding on something I’d baked.”
“They’re just cookies, Wes.”
He dug his hands into his pockets. “I know. But…man, this whole thing has me completely out of my element.”
As fun as it was to watch him squirm, Noelle deemed he’d had enough for one night. “Come on. Let’s get you back in your element then.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
She looped her hand through the arm he offered as they walked out of the cafeteria and through the high school. “We need to plan our next lesson.”
“Yes we do.”
“You ready for pies?”
His deep laugh floated through the hallway, the sound warming her insides. “God help me, cookies almost ended me. I may not survive pies.”
“We’ll see…”
Chapter Ten
Wes sat inhis office, the files that his father wanted him to look at spread out across his desk. With all the baking craziness, he hadn’t worked much, let alone done anything beyond glance at the paperwork. Even now he was distracted.
Looking out the window, he thought of the evening before. They’d all come back to the house to eat the cookies he’d baked and Annalise so graciously offered to share. They weren’t bad, if he did say so himself, but he didn’t think it wise to open a bakery anytime soon.
He and Noelle, Holly and Jeff, Mike, Annalise, his dad, and Glenna had all sat around the island in the kitchen with coffee or milk and the cookies. He couldn’t recall the last time they’d done that—sat around and talked until it got dark outside and Annalise fell asleep in her dad’s lap. Maybe when his mom was alive and all the St. Claire children lived at home, but it had been a while. With all of them in different parts of the country or globe and his father not having quite the pull their mother did in getting the children all in one place, nights like that were few and far between.
But he’d liked it. He’d liked it a lot. The casual conversation, the warmth of the kitchen, and most of all, the company. Noelle had sat beside him, sipping coffee and saying how wonderful the cookies had turned out. He was aware of her over-exaggerating on how yummy they were, but he wasn’t about to complain.
Not that he wasn’t used to women trying to boost his ego. But with Noelle, it was different. She was different. There wasn’t an element of kissing up to him because of his wealth. There was no awe either of his family and their lifestyle. It was what it was and she left it at that. Many people liked to draw attention to it, talk about it. Other than appreciating the beauty of the house, she hadn’t said a thing. It was his life. His world. And she accepted it as is.
And although she was the kindest person he’d met in a long time, she teased him just enough to keep his head from getting too big. Yet another trait no other woman in his life had ever ventured trying beyond his own mother or Glenna. Well, and his sister, McKenna.
Noelle wanted nothing from him. That’s what was so unusual, and a breath of fresh air for him. She was willing to help him learn to bake, she was kind to his niece and family, and asked nothing in return. Few people like that existed in his world in New York. He didn’t recognize it until now, until his time in Marietta.
He turned his attention back to the paperwork in front of him. His father wanted him to look over things, give his opinion. So far, from what Wes could tell, it looked clean. A Hollywood director by the name of Ronald Spellman wanted to buy two buildings along Church Avenue that took up a block or two. Working on an old western, Spellman had asked Wes’s dad for any thoughts on good places to film. Thinking the publicity would be helpful for Marietta, Daniel suggested it. Having the finances to do so, Ronald thought it a great idea to buy the buildings so he could change the facade for the movie. Afterward, he’d make a profit off the tourism that would come from the town being featured in the film.
Wes deemed the whole thing a bit excessive for making a movie, but since his father made his money in television and broadcasting, the creative types who worked and moved in his father’s world were not foreign to him. They thought big, spent bigger, and always had a “fantastic idea” to back things up. One thing Wes was painfully aware of was that Hollywood types had quirks. Some sat in bariatric chambers, some bought cars and homes for their dogs. Ronald? He was egocentric enough to buy the sets from his movies as “mementos.”
However, from what Wes could tell, he agreed with his dad that it wouldn’t be a bad thing for Marietta. The film would draw attention to the town and most likely bring in more tourism—all things that would help and not hurt.
However, Noelle’s building was one of the ones Spellman was interested in. The rumors she’d heard weren’t far from true. What she didn’t know about her landlady who’d been so kind to her was that she needed to sell because her husband passed away and she had a huge tax bill she couldn’t cover. Spellman was smart in a business sense to go for that building and the one across from it. Noelle’s landlady was looking to be done with it, not holding out for a top bidder.
He also wanted that exact spot. Something about it being “the perfect shot.” Wes shook his head. He had nothing against those in the entertainment industry, but he was more of a black-and-white, cut-and-dried kind of guy. The creative ideas tended to float with the wind a bit too much for his taste.
It was Sunday. Noelle’s day off. On impulse, he grabbed his phone from his desktop and dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hello, this is Noelle.”
