Simply Being Belle Read online

  SIMPLY BEING BELLE

  Rosemarie Naramore

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  SIMPLY BEING BELLE

  © Copyright 2012 by Rosemarie Naramore

  All rights reserved.

  Other books by Rosemarie Naramore:

  Light-hearted romance novels

  Summer on the Mountain (Amazon e-book)

  Just in Time

  Armed and Disarming

  The Detour

  Lacey’s Homecoming

  Mystery novels

  The Listing Agent

  Deputy Down

  (Coming June, 2012)

  For the kids

  Phantom Dead (Amazon e-book)

  Coming soon!

  Something Shady (Amazon e-book)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter One

  Belle glanced around her home, assuring it was tidy. An eclectic mix of furnishings and accessories enlivened the tiny cottage her friends often described as shabby chic. If indeed her decorating fell under any heading of a design category or style, it was purely coincidental. Belle had no time for decorating—wouldn’t spare it if she did. She had furnished her home for comfort; nothing more, nothing less.

  With a deep, steadying breath, she hurried to retrieve a tape from the armoire in her family room. She pulled it from its hiding place behind her meager assortment of newer DVDs. She had little time for viewing movies, either.

  She stared at the tape. Labeled “Sweet Sixteen Party,” it was a window into her past she forced herself to look through one time each year. The annual birthday viewing was a self-imposed penance for past wrongs, a reminder of whom and what she had been and would never be again.

  She placed the tape atop the antiquated VCR. When her friends arrived, she would slip it into the device, press play, and get on with it—and the sooner the better. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by Tri, the massive dog she’d adopted six months before. The gargantuan pooch tore into the room, put on the brakes when he spied her, but to no avail. He lost his footing and slid across the room, striking an end table, and sending it toppling over.

  “Tri! How did you get in here?”

  Only moments before, she had put him out back, along with Cy, the smaller dog she’d also adopted from the Humane Society. Both animals had been special needs adoptions.

  Belle took a hold of Tri’s collar and hauled him to the back door. She found a gaping hole in the recently replaced screen. “Tri!” she moaned. “Not another ruined screen!”

  The dog managed to look somewhat repentant. Regardless, she nudged him out the screen door with her knee, and quickly closed the wooden door behind him this time. He wasn’t particularly eager to go outside, but she knew her friend Lacey wouldn’t appreciate it if he happened to soil her evening wear with his unending supply of doggie drool.

  Lacey had called earlier and mentioned that she and Steven had plans for a night on the town after they left Belle’s place this evening. She had also attempted to beg off this night, but Belle had insisted she come. It was critical that the people most important to her see the tape.

  As if on cue, the phone rang. She sighed as she answered it, since the caller ID showed it was Lacey again. “Belle, this is ridiculous!” she declared without preamble. “Forget the darned tape and come out with us tonight.”

  “You know I have to watch it,” she said wearily.

  “People change, Belle! You changed! Good grief, you were just a child when that tape was made! You’re a different person now. Get over it already!”

  “I was sixteen, certainly not a child. And I know many, many sixteen-year-olds who have a social conscience—who actually boast some common sense. What went wrong in my case, do you think?” she mused aloud.

  Lacey snorted. “Belle, stop this nonsense! Forgive yourself! Besides, if you’re going to blame somebody, blame your parents.”

  “No, that’s a copout. I was old enough to know better. Lacey, I dyed my poodles purple and gold to match my school colors! I insisted my sixteenth birthday party rival—no—surprass any other held in Lawton that year. Good grief, we could have fed a third world country for a week for the cost of that party.”

  “Again, I’m thinking your parents are more culpable than you, my friend. Oh, Belle,” she sighed, “do I have to watch the tape again? Frankly, the acting is bad and the plot is weak.” She laughed at her joke.

  “I need you here,” Belle replied seriously. “I need you to hold me accountable for my behavior. I need…”

  “You need to get over yourself. Destroy that tape!” she commanded, right before she hung up the phone in frustration.

  Belle replaced the phone on the hook and righted the toppled end table. With another deep, steadying breath, she surveyed the room again, attempting to shore herself for the tape viewing. Watching it was, frankly, painful. She truly hoped Lacey understood why she asked her friends to suffer through it with her each year.

  As she waited for them to arrive, she felt herself transported back in time. She saw herself at age seventeen, exactly one year after her infamous Sweet Sixteen party. She’d arrived home from nearly a year abroad with her grandfather, John. During her travels, her eyes had been opened to the plight of those less fortunate, and she had been profoundly changed by the experience.

  Her grandfather had known exactly what he had been doing when he’d pulled her out of her exclusive private school for the trip, soon after she’d turned sixteen. Her parents had protested vehemently at first, but ultimately, her grandfather had prevailed. He had still controlled the purse strings then, and much as Belle hated to admit it, she was the product of two rather superficial people accustomed to a life of extravagance—a life bought and paid for by Grandma Liz, John’s wife.

  Belle missed her granddad terribly. It had been just a year since his passing. Like Lacey, he had urged her to stop viewing the tape, but he had understood why she needed to. Besides, she’d be off the hook in only one year, when she turned thirty. Her self-imposed punishment would end then, and only then, she would destroy the tape.

  When the doorbell rang, she hurried to the front door and found Lacey and Steven standing side by side, looking crisp and polished in their evening wear, but wearing grim expressions on their faces. “Let’s get this over with,” Lacey said impatiently as she flounced past Belle, simultaneously tossing her dark hair back with a flick of her hand.

  Steven, fair-haired and freckled, grinned and shrugged as he followed. Belle was about to close the door behind them when to her surprise, a tall man, also dressed to the nines in a dark suit, stepped across the threshold. She glanced at him uncertainly.

  “I’m with them.” He motioned toward Lacey and Steven.

  “Oh,” Belle said. She watched him curiously, taking in his thick sandy hair and deep blue eyes. He looked oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place him.

  “Oh, sorry,” Lacey called out as she returned to the tiny foyer. “Belle, this is Dare Jamison. Dare, this is Belle, my best friend—the one intent on torturing us with a bi
t of meaningless, ancient history. Okay, move it,” she snapped, clapping her hands together. “Get the tape into the VCR. We don’t have all night.”

  Belle glanced at Dare and smiled tightly. So Lacey had brought along a friend to watch her tape. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but realized that having a stranger see it would serve to assure the sting of this thirteenth viewing wouldn’t lessen any. And that was the point. Punishment wasn’t punishment unless it stung a little.

  He returned her smile. “This way?” he asked, pointing toward the living room.

  “Please.” She led him into the room. “Well, I’ll start the tape as soon as the others arrive,” she said too brightly.

  “What others?” Lacey intoned. “Nobody else is coming.”

  “But … I thought Ellen and Trish…”

  She shook her head. “Nope. They went to the movies, along with Brad and Robin.”

  Belle sighed. So … many of her friends had abandoned her. She couldn’t actually blame them. A viewing of her Sweet Sixteen party tape, though probably providing some comic relief, couldn’t possibly compete with the latest Ben Stiller movie.

  “Well, let’s get started then,” she said, casting a furtive glance at the newcomer in the room. Where had she seen him before? Considering his striking good looks, she was certain she would remember him had she met him before. Tall and broad shouldered, he seemed to fill the small living room. He exuded confidence and something else…

  When he caught her staring at him, he smiled kindly—a sweet, encouraging smile. Had Lacey and Steven filled him in on what was in store for him this evening? If so, what was he smiling about?

  “Yes, let’s get started,” Lacey repeated pointedly.

  “Okay,” Belle said. She crossed the room and pushed the tape into the slot in the VCR. She pressed play and then moved to the only open seat—a wooden rocker beside Dare. She turned toward him briefly. He smiled again, and she felt the oddest, tiny fluttering in her heart.

  And then the tape began, with a musical accompaniment added later when Belle’s mother had had the tape professionally edited. She hated to imagine what it would have looked like with no editing—if her mother hadn’t had several of her tantrums erased. She was particularly grateful the portion where she had yelled at their dog groomer had been left on the cutting room floor. The groomer hadn’t managed to die Belle’s poodle Tizzy the exact shade of purple she had specified. Thankful for small favors and suddenly even more on edge than she usually was when she viewed the tape, she subsided into the rocker and watched.

  Suddenly, her sixteen-year-old face filled the screen. She watched her own heavily lashed, violet eyes widen with anticipation, and perfectly painted lips curve into an expectant smile. Her honey blond hair, tousled just so, was a stylish perch for the diamond studded tiara her mother had given her as an early birthday present. She noted her makeup was flawless, though why she needed makeup then was beyond her now. She wore a strapless, purple gown and matching shoes, also embellished with real diamonds. Her face, the picture of youthful beauty and innocence, suddenly contorted. “Let’s get this party started!” she cried, and Belle cringed even now when she heard it.

  The camera had panned out then, exposing a massive crowd of well-dressed, but rowdy teens. Occasionally, the cameraman focused on a particular teen, at which time the subject would shout out, “Awesome party!” or “Best Party of the year!” or “Belle, I love you! Thank you for inviting me!”

  When the most popular Boy Band of the day appeared onstage, the crowd erupted. Belle sauntered onstage with the group, looking smug as the lead singer dedicated the performance to her. She bestowed him with a smirk, at which time the crowd erupted again. She grabbed the mic. “Yeah, sing for me,” she urged in a bored tone. “…And only for me.”

  The latter, uttered in a breathy whisper, caused modern day Belle to cringe and suck in a breath. That part of the video always made her feel a bit sick to her stomach. She caught herself glancing at Dare, and he turned to meet her gaze. He smiled blandly and she simply couldn’t read him.

  She pulled her eyes away and continued watching the tape. Soon she heard her sixteen-year-old voice again. “Mother! That is not the car I wanted,” she screeched. “I wanted a purple one!”

  Oh, why hadn’t her mother edited out this part? she couldn’t help wondering.

  “But angel…”

  “I … wanted … purple…” She stomped her foot and crossed her arms across her chest.

  “Princess,” her mother soothed, “the car doesn’t come in purple.”

  “So paint it!”

  “NOW!” Lacey intoned along with onscreen Belle. “I want it now, Mommy!”

  Belle shot her friend a dazed glance. Lacey looked nonplussed as she continued to parrot the younger Belle, until she realized just how miserable her friend appeared. She abruptly stood and paused the tape. “Enough!” she declared, and then softened her voice. “Belle, that’s not you. You know it, I know, we all know it. You don’t need to look at this tape ever again.”

  “But … I do,” she murmured miserably.

  “Let’s save some time here,” Lacey said. “Belle, you were a pompous prima donna—but a sixteen-year-old, pompous prima donna. That person doesn’t exist anymore.”

  She couldn’t argue with her, but just the same, she had to view the tape. She’d made a solemn oath to herself and had to see it through. She stood up and crossed the room to restart the tape. Upon her return to her chair, she caught Dare’s gaze again. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see in his eyes; contempt, disgust, mortification, but instead, he simply smiled.

  She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of her own voice. “Oh, Mommy, I do love that one!” she cried. Her mother had presented her with the second car of the evening—this one a sporty purple BMW and she had loved it. She’d even been mildly disappointed when she’d totaled it the day after her big party.

  Apparently, a young man at the party had loved the car, too. Suddenly, his face loomed in front of the camera, declaring the car “awesome” and the party “tight!” Belle hadn’t recognized him then or now, since the long, frizzy bangs slanted across his face effectively concealed his features. The boy hooted and howled, pumping his fist in the air, until the camera had swung wide to film Belle stepping not-so-daintily into her new BMW.

  “Mommy, it’s perfect,” she crooned.

  Belle cast another furtive glance at Dare. This time, she read something in his expression. His blue eyes were narrowed and his brows drawn low, as if he were deep in thought. His lips formed a terse, straight line, and she noted his jaw clenched convulsively. Yes, this time she definitely read something there. And it made her feel ill.

  It was a tremendous relief to her when the tape finally ended. She rose as Lacey hurried to press the stop button, and then hit the rewind. “Must have it ready for next birthday’s premiere,” she said sarcastically, and then hurried to wrap an arm around Belle when she saw tears brimming in her eyes. “Oh, Belle, are you okay? I was kidding.”

  She nodded. “Glad that’s over with,” she said in a tremulous voice. She glanced at Dare again. He smiled up at her once again, and she attempted a smile in return. She couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “Okay, now that it is over with, and thank the Lord for small favors, we have places to go and people to see,” Lacey announced. “We’re about to show Dare the town. He’s new to the area, by the way.”

  “Not new, exactly,” he amended. “But recently returned to the area.”

  “Dare’s helping out at Legal Aid,” Steven informed, “until he starts work at Preston and Dunne.”

  “I started today. It’s a condition of employment,” he explained.

  Belle nodded, realizing she had missed working with him at Legal Aid by one day. Today marked the first day of her extended vacation. She was familiar with the firm, Preston and Dunne, as well as the condition of employment that new employees spend time at Legal Aid, since her gra
ndfather had been the firm’s founding partner. She had worked there herself, until she had made the decision to take a position at Legal Aid a couple years before.

  She heartily approved of her grandfather’s insistence that all the firm’s new hires spend six weeks at Legal Aid before starting work at Preston and Dunne. There was more to law than serving the rich and powerful, and Belle was glad her grandfather had instilled that sense of service in her.

  “I think you’ll enjoy your time at Legal Aid,” she said, glad to have something to talk about other than the tape. “It’s an incredibly valuable experience, and certainly serves to broaden one’s world view.” Good grief, she sounded like a recruitment poster.

  “Belle’s grandfather founded Preston and Dunne,” Steven told Dare then. “She used to work there, until her altruistic nature overwhelmed her good sense.”

  Belle shot Steven a chagrined look. “You left them for Legal Aid, too,” she pointed out.

  “I don’t have good sense, either,” he chuckled.

  Lacey worked as a legal secretary at Preston and Dunne, and had met Steven there. The two had hit it off instantly, and had been a couple for over two years. Their relationship had been the impetus for Steven to leave the firm, in part at least, since it had a no fraternization policy among co-workers—as did Legal Aid. Besides, like Belle, Steven had found his time there unfulfilling, and also like Belle, he had longed to do something more meaningful with his life.

  Dare turned back to Belle and grinned widely. “So you’re Belle Preston? The Belle Preston?”

  She nodded.

  “Belle the bulldog,” he murmured incredulously, and then his eyes widened as he realized he’d spoken the words aloud.

  She smiled benignly. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard herself described as such. She had to admit she was tenacious—like a dog on a bone—when she had something or someone worth fighting for.