Simply Being Belle Page 2

  “I’m so sor…” he began, smiling ruefully. He raked a hand through his hair. “Can’t believe I actually said that out loud,” he muttered under his breath.

  She waved off his apology. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to join us tonight?” he asked her then, glancing at Lacey and Steven expectantly.

  “Don’t even bother asking,” Lacey said in a flat tone. “Belle will spend the rest of her evening wallowing in her misery after revisiting her sixteen-year-old self, and later, she’ll revisit her sixteen-year-old self in her dreams…”

  “Nightmares,” Steven cut in with a chagrined chuckle.

  “Right,” Lacey agreed, “and then she’ll spend the rest of her vacation atoning for past sins, have no downtime whatsoever, at which time, she’ll return to Legal Aid and work herself into a frazzle again.”

  “I’m not that bad,” Belle protested.

  “Yes, you are,” her friends cried in unison.

  Dare watched the exchange, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Will you join us?” he asked again. “It is your birthday.”

  She met his gaze, noting the hopeful gleam in his eyes. She wondered, should she go out with him and her friends? Admittedly, she was tempted. Dare Jamison was arguably the best looking attorney she’d ever met, though looks weren’t especially important to her.

  She suddenly remembered the tape again—and the look on his face at one point during the viewing. She’d definitely seen something there—couldn’t quite identify the emotion, but it had bothered her. The memory caused her face to warm with embarrassment. She shook her head. No, she couldn’t go anywhere on this Friday night. She had memories to revisit.

  Chapter Two

  Belle dropped onto her couch in the living room, tipping her head back for a momentary respite before she washed the dogs. Absently she stroked the tiny kitten she’d just adopted from the Humane Society. The tiny grey tabby pressed against her, and then fell asleep with a contented mew.

  Belle had just returned from a Humane Society-sponsored adoption event, which had been capped off by a doggie swim in a nearby outdoor pool. Unfortunately, Tri and Cy had capped off their swimming fun by rolling around in a pile of dirt outside the swim center. Besides effectively muddying up the inside of Belle’s Prius, the two had also jumped all over her in their excitement at seeing the kitten. The dogs absolutely adored kittens.

  With a sigh, she settled the kitten onto a pillow on the couch, and then headed for the backyard. She found Tri and Cy standing at the back steps, wagging their tails. She sat down. “What are you two so happy about?” she asked, and then chuckled when Tri slathered her face with kisses.

  If the two dogs sensed a bath was coming, they didn’t show it. Usually, they seemed to know before she did that it was bath time, and the two scurried to the far corner of the expansive lot. Getting them from the backyard and into the tub was always a workout.

  “Okay, who wants to go first?” she asked. Tri kissed her squarely on the mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, wiping the drool off her lips.

  Careful to avoid actually saying the word ‘bath,’ she took a hold of his collar and led him into the house and to the upstairs bathroom. Climbing the stairs was akin to scaling a mountain for him, since the dog was missing one leg. “Take it slow, sweetie,” she crooned. “We have all the time in the world.”

  Suddenly, his ears perked up, as if he suddenly realized he was headed for a good soaping. He let out a pitiful whine.

  “Figured it out, eh? Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon. Besides, whose fault is it you’re about to get a bath?”

  She hauled him into the tub. The dog struggled, but gave up the fight when his three feet struck the bottom of the fiberglass tub. At that point, he whimpered resignedly and allowed her to give him a thorough cleaning. She dried him off, and helped him out. He proceeded to shake the water off his coat with a vengeance, soaking her in the process. “Thanks,” she muttered.

  She led the dog downstairs and out to the enclosed back porch. “Into your room,” she commanded, and Tri obediently trotted into his indoor dog house. “Next!” she called out, knowing full well Cy was somewhere in the back forty, attempting to blend in with the foliage.

  She headed after him, but stopped abruptly when the phone rang. She hurried into her kitchen to answer it. “Hello!” she said breathlessly.

  “Well, hello!” Lacey said. “How was your weekend?”

  “Busy.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Did you do anything exciting?”

  “Well, I helped out at the women’s shelter yesterday, and today the dogs and I went to an adoption fair and doggie swim. The dogs loved it. Oh, and I adopted a kitten.”

  “Of course you did,” her friend said ruefully.

  “I almost adopted a goat,” Belle volunteered.

  “Of course you did,” Lacey said with a disgusted snort. “Belle, I’d hoped you’d have something more … well, exciting planned for your vacation? How about a holiday at some exotic locale? You’ve earned it, you know. Good grief, six long weeks of vacation time and you’re staying home? Call a travel agent, please! Hey, why don’t you join your parents and grandmother in Belize?”

  Spending time with her folks on yet another one of their holidays wasn’t exactly Belle’s idea of down time, but she left that unsaid. “I can’t leave my dogs, and now I have a kitten… And I haven’t actually ruled out the goat.”

  “Excuses, excuses!” Laced charged. “Ever hear of a kennel?”

  “I don’t think they’d take a goat.”

  “Stop being obtuse,” Lacey commanded. “What is your problem?”

  “I have so much to get done around here,” she said in her own defense.

  “Such as?”

  “Well, I’m going to work in my garden and maybe install some sort of water feature in my backyard. Maybe I’ll prune the rose bushes out front. I might paint the dog houses. I’m just not sure yet.”

  “Belle,” Lacey said with a withering sigh, “you have six weeks—six glorious weeks off. And the weatherman is predicting sunshine for the next several days. Come on, my friend, you need some excitement in your life.” She chuckled, and Belle detected something in her friend’s voice.

  “What?” she prompted suspiciously.

  “I was just remembering Friday night, after we left your place.”

  “What happened?”

  “I think Dare liked you,” Lacey said in a sing-song voice.

  Belle practically snorted. “Right. After a personal screening of my Sweet Sixteen party tape, I’m thinking it was either sheer force of will or practiced politeness that prevented him from running out the front door.”

  “No, really, Belle. He was really disappointed you didn’t join us. He talked about you much of the evening, actually. It seems your reputation precedes you.”

  “Oh, yes. Belle the Bulldog. Conjures up all sorts of romantic images.”

  Lacey laughed.

  “Um,” she began tentatively, “did Dare mention the … uh … tape?”

  “Not once,” Lacey said, and even she sounded surprised.

  “I wonder if he’ll enjoy his time at Legal Aid?” she said nonchalantly, eager to get off the subject of the tape.

  “Who knows? Too bad you’re on vacation. Wouldn’t it be fun to do a little paper shuffling with him? Maybe check out his briefs.”

  She gasped. “Lacey! Need I remind you, you’re taken?”

  “But you’re not. Taken, that is.”

  Belle hadn’t been involved with anyone for over a year, since she’d broken up with Paul Carlson, an attorney at her grandfather’s firm. She had dated him for nearly two years, until they had reached an impasse in their relationship. It was either get married or move on. It was actually Belle who had chosen the latter.

  Like her, Paul had been driven in his work, but unlike her, his career aspirations included a wish to make partner
at Preston and Dunne. To that end, he’d spent long hours servicing the accounts he felt offered the best hope for both career and financial gain. He hadn’t cared one iota about the little guy, and she had grown frustrated as his ego had expanded with each boardroom and courtroom success.

  “Belle! Are you there?”

  “Yes, I’m here. I’m just thinking.”

  “About Dare?”

  “About Paul, actually.”

  “Ick. Forget him,” Lacey said dismissively. “But Dare…”

  “I suggest you get that dreamy inflection out of your voice,” Belle said drolly. “I’m thinking Steven might not appreciate it.”

  “Hey, I can look as long as I don’t touch.”

  “Isn’t that what men always say?”

  “Well, turnabout is fair play. But back to the subject at hand. What did you think of Dare?” she inquired nosily.

  Belle took a deep breath. What did she think of him? More to the point, what did he think of her? He’d seen her at her sixteen-year-old worst. He had seemed unaffected by the tape originally, but later, she had seen something in his eyes.

  Shock? Yes, that had been it. Seeing that look in any man’s eyes would effectively squelch any romantic notions on her end. She was sickened by her sixteen-year-old self. How could she expect him not to be?

  “What did I think of Dare?” she asked, stalling for time. “Well, I thought he looked awfully familiar, but I can’t place him.”

  “Oh, it’s possible you might know him. He was raised here in Lawton, but left the area to attend law school. He worked for a firm in New York right out of law school—awfully prestigious according to Steven—but has resettled here.”

  “Hmm, that still doesn’t answer the question of how I might know him.”

  “Who knows?” Lacey said. “You may have attended the same fund raiser or other event.”

  “It’s hard to say,” Belle mused aloud.

  “Hey, it turns out Dare is living just up the road from you. Maybe you ought to stop by and give him a housewarming gift. Or, maybe you could bake him a pie as a welcome to the neighborhood.”

  “I don’t bake.”

  “Oh, that’s true. Well, buy a pie.”

  “I’m not buying a pie. I’m not bothering the man, Lacey.”

  “How are you ever going to find Mr. Right if you don’t put yourself out there?”

  “Who’s looking for Mr. Right?” Belle said in measured tones.

  “You’re twenty-nine, my friend. You’re not getting any younger. And it’s not as if handsome, eligible attorneys grow on trees around here.”

  Belle sighed again. Actually, in her world, they seemed to. She suddenly remembered the myriad lawyers she’d dated over the years. Lacey was the consummate matchmaker and she couldn’t count the many blind dates she’d been subjected to courtesy of her friend.

  In reality, she didn’t want to count them, but rather, discount them. She was done with lawyers. If only she could convince her friend to give the matchmaking a rest. Lacey—the woman was intent on assuring the world went round in pairs.

  Suddenly, Cy barked loudly, and Belle was glad for the distraction. “Hey, Lacey, I have to go. Cy needs me. Sorry.”

  “You are not sorry,” she muttered. “It’s funny how when we get on the subject of men, you always have to go. Belle, you’re going to end up old and alone. Actually, you’ll probably be an elderly eccentric who hoards dogs, cats, and … goats.”

  “Well, I won’t be alone then, will I? Oh, sorry, gotta go…” She dropped the phone onto the hook. She knew Lacey could go on all day about her impending old maid status if she didn’t stop her now.

  She dashed outside and found Cy standing at the foot of the stairs, his tail swishing back and forth. Apparently he’d grown weary of waiting for her, or had forgotten a bath was forthcoming. Regardless, it was a relief she wouldn’t have to chase him through the yard. For a one-eyed dog, he had remarkably good depth perception as he evaded her desperate attempts to catch him.

  She grasped his collar and hauled him upstairs and to the bath. He put up less of a fight than Tri, perhaps because he was some twenty pounds lighter. While the vet had told her Tri was a Labrador Retriever, he was the biggest lab she’d ever seen. What the vet hadn’t mentioned was that he was a King lab. Considerably bigger than a standard lab, he was a super-sized two-year-old liable to grow even bigger.

  Like him, Cy had seemingly grown to gargantuan proportions if one accounted for the breed. Cy was a boxer, and Belle had believed he would attain a medium size and perhaps be muscular and stout. Instead, he towered over the other boxers in the neighborhood, having long, lean legs. Like Tri, he had a propensity for drooling.

  Belle bathed him quickly, and then dried him off. Soon, she sent him off to his dog house on the porch and hurried to check on the kitten. The tiny ball of fluff was still asleep on the pillow, and Belle left her momentarily to find her a bed. She also retrieved the litter box she’d purchased earlier. She finally settled the kitten on the porch, nearby the dogs.

  Once done, she hurried to clean up in her master bathroom. It had been a long day. She was about to step into the shower when the phone rang. She grabbed a towel, wrapped herself in it, and padded to the phone beside her bed.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello, Belle. This is Dare Jamison—from last night.”

  “Oh, yes, hello,” she said, unable to conceal the surprise in her voice.

  “Hey, uh, I know this is kind of short notice, but I was hoping you might be free for dinner. It turns out you and I are neighbors. I’m living at the old Madson place. Anyway, I just bought a new grill, and I…” He laughed—an embarrassed, self-deprecating sort of laugh. “Sorry, I haven’t done this for awhile,” he admitted.

  “Barbecued?”

  He chuckled. “No, I mean, I haven’t asked a woman out in a long while.”

  “Oh. Oh!”

  “Are you free?” he asked hopefully.

  Belle glanced around the room and caught her reflection in the mirror. She was a mess after having washed the dogs. She ran a hand through her disheveled hair. “I’m sorry, Dare, but tonight just isn’t good for me.”

  “Oh, okay. Another time?”

  “Sure, another time.”

  ***

  Belle punched her pillow and fell back against it. She’d lain awake for over an hour, mulling over Dare’s invitation to dinner. Why had she said no? It wasn’t as if she didn’t find him attractive. With his sandy hair, crisp blue eyes, and full masculine lips, he was definitely good looking. She particularly liked his thick wavy hair, and wondered if he hadn’t boasted a short precision hair cut on his well-formed head, would his hair tend toward unruly curls? She’d always had a weakness for men with curly hair, and wondered if he ever grew his hair out.

  She pushed the ridiculous thought aside. What was it to her how the man wore his hair? Besides, hadn’t she sworn off lawyers?

  She suddenly wondered why he had asked her to dinner in the first place. He’d probably asked simply because of the close proximity of their homes. Maybe he was lonely. She laughed at the absurdity of that notion. Loneliness couldn’t possibly be a problem for a man as handsome as Dare Jamison. Surely he wasn’t interested in her. He’d seen the Sweet Sixteen party tape, after all. It suddenly occurred to her she wished he hadn’t. What must he think of her?

  Apparently, he hadn’t been put off by the tape, since he had asked her out. Curious. Or maybe he was simply curious about her. Belle the Bulldog, he’d called her. She hadn’t heard that in a while—not since she’d left the firm. Perhaps Dare was curious to know more about Preston and Dunne before he actually started working there. Who better to obtain information from than the granddaughter of the founding partner?

  Maybe she should have gone to dinner. Wait. No. She didn’t have time for a man in her life. Frankly, she didn’t feel the time was right for a six-week vacation either, but Millicent, her boss, had insisted she finally take the vaca
tion time she’d accumulated over the years. Had she not taken it, she would have lost it. Of course, she had been perfectly willing to forfeit her time off, or to donate it to any one of her co-workers who had obligingly offered to take the time, but her boss would not be deterred. But six weeks? It was too much.

  Vacation.

  Lacey believed Belle was insane for remaining close to home, tending to the myriad mundane tasks that needed to be done around her place, rather than heading off to an island resort. But the fact was, she was a homebody. She was happiest at home with her pets.

  Her thoughts raced as they often did, from one topic to the next. It was often like that at night, as she recounted the day’s events.

  She thought about her job. It had been difficult to leave work on Thursday, since she’d been embroiled in a big case. Steven, as well as Brad, another attorney at Legal Aid, had personally assured her that her current case would receive the attention it deserved, but just the same, she bemoaned the timing of her extended vacation. She really should have forfeited her time off. She was an adult. It should have been her decision to make. Doggone it.

  Millicent had promised her she’d consider allowing her to continue helping out with the case on an as-needed consulting basis during her time off. She certainly hoped she would give her the go-ahead to assist Steven and Brad.

  Millicent was adamant that Belle take her six week vacation, suggesting that she needed time to “get her head together.” She wasn’t certain what her boss had meant by that. She knew Millicent felt she worked too hard, but she disagreed with that assessment. What was wrong with having a work ethic?

  She rose, flipped her pillow, and punched it. She leaned back again, forcing her eyes closed.

  Sleep eluded her. She wondered how Rosaria Rodriguez would react tomorrow when she arrived at Legal Aid and found her absent. Rosaria trusted her. Would she feel comfortable working with another attorney? The case of Rodriguez versus Biggs, tenant versus landlord—slumlord, if truth be told—was beginning to heat up. Belle desperately hoped it wouldn’t be too hot for Steven and Brad to handle.