Little Beginnings
Little Beginnings
Iris Blobel
Contents
Untitled
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
About the Author
Little Beginnings
By Iris Blobel
Published by Clean Reads
www.cleanreads.com
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
LITTLE BEGINNINGS
Copyright © 2016 IRIS BLOBEL
ISBN 978-1-62135-503-8
Cover Art Designed by
Jeri – meet your man.
Chapter 1
Jeri Belmont checked the time on her watch. It was twenty past six, and they’d agreed to meet at six.
He was late!
Steaming inside, and less than impressed by her blind date, she took another sip of the Chardonnay as she gazed around the restaurant. Everyone was engulfed in their conversations, but occasionally one of the patrons glanced at her. She shrugged it off, confident in sitting on her own in the town’s most elegant restaurant.
What she couldn’t shrug off, though, was her date being late.
She drank the last little bit of her wine, paid, and left. A deep disappointment settled in the pit of her stomach, surprising her, because it hadn’t been the first time she’d been on a blind date that ended with the guy not showing up.
She suppressed a groan as she thought of the man she’d met only a few weeks earlier. Admittedly, he’d been nice, but not at all what he’d pretended to be in the details she received from the “Your Future Heart” agency.
Yet, this rejection hurt inside. Olivia had told her so much about her neighbour, and she’d trusted her niece when she’d assured he’d be there.
Olivia was Georgia’s daughter. Georgia was Jeri’s cousin, but to avoid confusion they all agreed on Olivia being her niece. Jeri loved Olivia like her own daughter and had often babysat her when she’d been younger. They’d been to movies, concerts, and Jeri had even been along to one of her niece’s trips to Melbourne to visit Olivia’s best friend Mia, who had moved across the Bass Strait.
As Jeri walked down the streets to her car, she replayed her conversation with her niece in her mind.
“How are your blind dates going?” her niece had asked as she came into Jeri’s gallery a couple of days ago.
She’d shrugged. “I have a winner’s luck getting hooked up with all the duds in town.” Jeri remembered hesitating, contemplating whether to speak the words in her head. Was she destined to live alone after her divorce? She wasn’t looking for the man of her dreams, just companionship. Someone to go out with once in a while. Someone to share her day’s highlights or nightmares with.
“You should meet the guy from next door,” Olivia said. “He’s like sex on legs. Honestly.”
Jeri let out a stifled laugh. “Listen, sweetie. I’m in my late thirties, good looking for that age, but sex on legs?”
“You just wait and see,” Olivia said as she looked at her watch. “Anyway, I’d better go. I’ll give you a call tonight. Prepare yourself for a nice night out with my neighbour!”
That had basically been it — she’d been set up on a blind date without actually agreeing to it. In hindsight, she knew she should’ve called it off, but deep inside, she’d hoped for a nice evening. She’d been most certain that none of Olivia’s friends were what she was looking for, but then again, she didn’t even know herself what she was looking for.
* * *
Jeri cursed at Olivia’s promise. She unlocked the car and threw her bag onto the passenger seat before sliding behind the steering wheel. After cranking up the radio, the music was loud enough for her to ignore the outside noises. She leaned back and closed her eyes, considered forgetting about finding the ‘right one.’ Living alone wasn’t all that bad. She liked being alone, yet the thought of being alone for the rest of her life scared her.
Jeri took a deep breath, turned down the music, and grabbed her phone.
Without giving her niece a chance to say a word when the call connected, she said, “Sex on legs in your dreams, honey,” and hung up.
She took the long route back home, enjoying the drive and the night-lights of the city. By the time she arrived at her home, Olivia stood in front of her door, hands on hips. Her niece hadn’t changed much, if at all, in all the years she’d known her. Despite looking like a little model, Olivia hated her curly blonde hair, which had been near unmanageable while the hormones raged during her teenage years. A smile tugged at Jeri’s lips as she remembered when she’d showed her niece how to apply some makeup to show off her beautiful blue eyes. Olivia had wanted none of it —but she still looked stunning. Even more so because nothing in the world really bothered her and that smile on her face was a constant.
Just like now as she stood in front of her, quite possibly trying to figure out what the phone call had been all about.
“What on earth happened?”
“Don’t give me this attitude, honey. Your super boy didn’t show up that’s what happened.”
Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Jeri walked past her niece. “Your sex-on-legs lover boy hid like a frightened turtle.”
Olivia’s cackle didn’t go unnoticed, and Jeri turned to her, anger rising.
“Honey, this is not funny,” she said, with as much calm as she could summon. “Having a blind date with a guy who halfway through dinner goes to the toilet without returning because his pills played havoc with his heart might be funny. Or being asked for a 10,000 dollar loan on the very first date might also be considered funny.” Jeri took a deep breath. “But I can’t see the funny side in sitting in a busy restaurant, not to mention one of the best in town, waiting for your friend’s neighbour who never turns up. Do the words trust me ring a bell?”
Olivia paled, and momentarily some guilt crept up inside Jeri. However, only for a brief second.
“Did you have your red and black handbag with you?”
Jeri held up her bag. “This one?” she asked with her head slightly tilted.
Olivia gave a slow nod. “I’ll get him to apologise. I’m sure he’s got a hundred percent solid excuse.”
Jeri waved her hand in resignation. “Don’t bother. I’m over it.”
“Jeri—”
But Jeri shook her head. “Catch you on Saturday for your mum’s birthday,” she finally stated softly. “I’ve still got a few things to prepare for tomorrow. The carpenter is coming to finally get the shelving done in the gallery office.”
“Jeri?”
“Zip it!”
“Do you need help for Sophie’s exhibition?”
When Jeri arrived in Hobart about ten years earlier after her divorce from her husband, she’d decided to take life in her own hands and do whatever she liked — well more or less. One of the things that she’d wanted to do was open a gallery for local artists and designers displaying photography, sculptures, prints, and paintings. Most of the items were for sale. It’d been a rough first year, but when Jeri had met Sophie O’Connor, she’d
invited her to exhibit some of her photos, word got out, and she’d been busy ever since.
“That’d be lovely,” she finally said. “It’s still a mess, because Sophie agreed with other artists to display their items if they agreed to donate. I’m way behind with the cataloguing.”
“I’ll be there on Wednesday.”
“Still not back at uni?”
“Not until mid-February.”
Jeri sighed. “That’s the life.” She leaned in and placed a kissed on Olivia’s cheek. “Catch you on Wednesday, honey.”
* * *
Ely Lennox grabbed his tool belt and slid behind the wheel of his ute. Still struggling with the guilt of not showing up to the blind date the previous evening—not to mention his lack of sleep last night—his mood was at an all-time low.
He’d run into Olivia’s mum, Georgia, at the local shop the day before. She’d been on the phone with Olivia, and not having a pleasant conversation. Cheeks red from anger, she’d told Ely that her daughter was setting up Georgia’s cousin with a blind date. He’d obviously been all ears by then, figuring out that he was the blind date.
“So, what’s wrong with that?” he asked, his curiosity spiked.
She’d let out a long breath. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” Georgia lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Jeri’s turning forty soon. She needs to meet someone solid and mature. Not one of Olivia’s immature friends.”
Everything inside Ely churned. He wasn’t sure what to say, or whether to mention to Georgia that he assumed he was the date. After all, he was the neighbour, friendly neighbour indeed, but not part of the friends Georgia considered immature. And he was in his mid-thirties as well.
He simply nodded and said, “Your cousin will be all right. And I’m sure Libby knows what she’s doing, too.”
Georgia smiled, her shoulders sagging slightly. “I suppose you’re right.” Then she looked up at him. “I’m so sorry to bother you with all this. I’m sure you’re busy.”
No, he wasn’t, but wanted to get away as soon as possible, uncomfortable with the information he’d received only minutes earlier, even if coincidentally. Then, the tables had turned and annoyance had crept up inside of him.
Forty?
How could Olivia set him up with a forty-year-old woman?
The sound of someone honking the car horn hauled him back and Ely started the engine, heading down the streets to the address he’d been given. Ely’s job for the next few hours was to add shelves in the office of a gallery in the city. It should be an easy job.
The front door of the gallery was still closed, so he walked to the rear of the building. After the second knock, a woman opened the door, but she didn’t look pleased.
“Good morning. I’m here to get shelves done in the office,” he said, with more irritation in his voice than was necessary.
She let out a big sigh and said, “Oh good, you’re here. I’ve been expecting you.” She stepped back to let him in. “Come on in.”
Ely took her in. She seemed tired. Her blonde hair was loosely tied up in a ponytail, which emphasised her high cheekbones. She wore a tight tank top and faded jeans, simple, but it still looked extremely sexy. When he met her dark blue eyes, he knew she’d checked him out as well.
“I’m Jeri, by the way.”
Ely nodded, but didn’t say anything. His mood was still on a low and even though he knew better than to forget his manners, he simply couldn’t bring himself to smile.
“It would make things a bit more comfortable for the next couple of hours if you’d at least tell me your name, Mr. Stranger.”
Well, if that didn’t crack a smile on his face. He often forgot that his business name was LenHob Carpentry. Not many customers really knew his name.
“Ely. Sorry, crappy day.”
Jeri choked back a chortle as she turned to walk down the narrow hall. “Join the club.”
He followed her into a small room in the back of what seemed an add-on part of the building.
“This is the room in need of more space.”
Looking around, knocking on the wall here and there, stepping over piles of paperwork and files, he said, “I can see that.”
“Can you do some magic here?” she asked hesitantly.
He laughed softly. “Magic is for dreamers. I’m a carpenter.”
“I suppose it doesn’t hurt to dream sometimes,” she said quietly.
Ely turned to meet her gaze. There was something about the look in her eyes. Something was missing. Despite her lovely smile, her eyes expressed sadness.
“Give me a couple of hours, possibly have to come back tomorrow. I’ve never used a magic wand before. I will need some practise first.”
The smile on her face told him she appreciated his answer. She bit her lip before she replied, “Thanks.”
They went through a few ideas of what she had in mind, and he explained what was possible before she left to open the gallery.
He shook his head. Magic wand? What had he been thinking?
The morning went by quickly, and it was just before noon when Ely went in search for Jeri. He found her in a little kitchen, absentmindedly dipping the tea bag in her cup. He was close enough to see tears on her face. When Jeri saw him, she wiped them away with an angry swipe of her hand and got to her feet.
“How can I help you?” she said, with the same smile from earlier that morning. The smile that didn’t make it to her eyes.
The question Are you all right? hung on the tip of his tongue, but he wouldn’t go there. A woman in tears was a recipe for disaster. He’d learnt that more than once from his sister and the occasional girlfriend.
“I’ve got to head out and grab some material,” Ely said.
She took a deep sigh, grabbed her tea, and stepped towards him. “I forgot to tell you that you’re more than welcome to use the kitchen.”
“Thanks, but I grabbed something on the way.”
He was about to turn and head out when he stopped. “To ask whether you’re okay seems ridiculous, but I…” He scratched the back of his head. “I…”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him. Yet, there was no smile on her face and her expression didn’t give anything away.
“It’s kind of on the tip of my tongue to call you a liar, but I’d better not, considering that I need the money from this job.”
This time, a small smile spread across her face, and it was the real thing, and everything inside him reacted.
Without waiting for a verbal reply, he turned and headed towards his car. He thought about Jeri. Everything about her was so confusing. She’d come across determined and headstrong when they’d discussed the shelving in that backroom, yet always wary and rarely giving him a smile. Then there was the magic she’d asked for, her comment about it not hurting to dream had thrown him a bit. But what was it with the tears? He was interested to know, mainly because he was a curious guy by nature, but also because it didn’t fit into her character — as far as he was concerned anyway.
* * *
Jeri watched Ely walk to his car. He looked ragged with his dark hair tousled, but sexy in his jeans and plain black T-shirt. She remembered the colour of his eyes, like the blue of the ocean. Smiling, she placed her cup on the bench and thought about his comment it’s kind of on the tip of my tongue to call you a liar.
She liked his twisted honesty.
When she walked into her office, she was surprised to see that he’d made an effort to cover most of her furniture and carpet. A man who thought about the mess his work created. She started to like him.
“Forgot my keys.”
Jeri whirled around in surprise and almost lost her balance.
He reached for her arm. “Whoa, what did you have in that tea?”
Jeri’s gaze went to his hand on her arm and she was momentarily startled by her body’s reaction to his touch. Then she yanked back. “I don’t drink.”
Ely raised a curious brow.
Closing her eyes for sma
ll instant, she took a deep breath before she apologised. “Sorry. I’m having a bit of a rough time at the moment.”
He nodded “We all have them.”
She looked around herself. “Thanks for covering up the floor and the furniture.”
Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, he said nonchalantly, “It was the magic of the wand.”
Why was she surprised that he made her laugh again?
“Considering that you don’t believe in magic, you use it quite a bit.”
He chuckled and good grief, even that simple sound made her quiver.
“The customer is king.”
Hands on hips, eyebrows arched, she said, “Do I look like a man?”
Ely grabbed his keys and held them up. “Now heading to the hardware store.”
Jeri stared at the door through which her carpenter had left. She was so taken aback by the fact he’d never replied that her jaw was still open.
Then she heard him call from down the hallway. “Only a fool would mistake you for a man.”
Lifting her arms as if to scream, Jeri smiled instead, not sure why. And not sure why this guy was affecting her so much. But she liked him. A lot. Looking around, she noticed that, even though he’d stuck to her requests, he had added a few little extras. Cringing, she stepped closer to inspect what he’d created. Looking closer, though, she saw he’d used a couple of files, probably for measurement—and hey, that was actually a nifty little addition.
She smiled and said to herself, “Mr. Ely. I like your magic wand.”
Her phone buzzed and dragged her back from her daydream. It was Olivia. “Honey, I’m having a good mood moment here, so if you’re calling me about the blind date—”
“Calling about the exhibition on Sunday,” Olivia interrupted. “I was wondering with you having the office re-done whether you’d need help earlier. I can spare a few hours tomorrow.”
“That’d be much appreciated, although it seems the shelf-maker isn’t as messy as I thought.”