Much Ado About Sophie---Chapters 1-3

Chapter 1

“Change it.  I just realized this doesn’t work with the new color.  So change it,” said Mrs. Vivian Gardner to a silently irate Sophie Owen.

“Vivian, we’ve been over this before.  I can’t keep changing things this close to the final days of the project and especially with the workers almost finished.”

“I know, but Roger didn’t like the peach color for the sitting room and I decided he was right.  I wanted something more me.  I told Roger I’d go with the passion purple and he said he liked it better.  And I want to make him happy.”

“Yes, I gathered,” Sophie muttered knowing Vivian would hate to lose the affection of husband number five before she had a chance to redecorate her home.  Again.

“But Vivian everything is--”

“You won’t be able to persuade me Sophie, so don’t try.  I want the design changed, so do it.”

Sophie didn’t think Vivian had heard a word she’d said.

“Yes, Vivian. Why don’t you look at these fabric swatches again and I’ll go have a chat with Camille about this newest change.”

Sophie made her escape before she did something she’d regret.  Like yell at the overly tanned, bleached blonde Vivian Gardner.  Calm down Sophie, it’s almost over.  Yes, but she had told her boss, Camille, that she didn’t want to work with Vivian anymore.  The woman changed décor like she did husbands.  Actually to think about it she liked her men how she liked her furniture, antique and expensive, exchanging them often for double their original value.

Sophie personally couldn’t understand how someone could treat marriage so trivial, but maybe she was biased due to the shining example her parents make.  After more than thirty years of marriage, Harry and Lynne Owen were still going strong.  And even though her mother would admit openly to anyone that her husband’s snoring drove her crazy, and he would say that his wife was nosier than ever, you would be able to notice the love and affection in the way they talked and touched.  But what Vivian Gardner did was shop and expected customer service to exchange used goods.

As she approached her boss’ office, she could hear Camille arguing at someone on the phone.  Sophie walked into the cluttered room, waiting for her boss to notice.

The room reflected Camille from the large front windows with a beautiful view of the Phoenix sunset to the thousand of fabric and color swatches stacked about the room.  Camille was seated at her desk wrapping with the light giving her an almost ethereal glow though she was anything but.

Camille Toulour was a French emigrant whose family had come to America a few years after the Second World War.  Camille had been only five years old at the time.  Her mother had been a seamstress while her father a butcher, and Camille, who had a penchant for exquisite taste in everything from clothes to men, had decided to take her life and make better of it.

So after graduating high school, Camille had gone to Hollywood to make it big as a movie star.  Even though she didn’t talk about it much, Sophie knew that somehow Camille’s life in Hollywood had influenced her life in Phoenix, Arizona as an interior designer and owner of Toulour Décor. 

Camille’s silver hair was cut into a fashionable bob, framing an almost grandmotherly face.  But it was all a ruse.  She made Donald Trump seem inept with her piercing blue eyes that belied a shrewd intelligence and wisdom for business.  She motioned for Sophie to sit.  Taking a seat in one of the two blue contemporary chairs framing Camille’s sleek cherry desk, Sophie waited.

“No I did not say June 14th Ollie, I said June 4th.  No, no, no,” her hands emphasizing each word.

“I want that Mitchell order done and shipped to moi before the end of the week.  No excuses, Oliver.  Don’t make me bring my business, not to mention my wealthy contacts elsewhere.  I thought so.  Finish the job, and remember Oliver you need me more than I need you.  Oui, that’s right. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.  Au revoir, Ollie.”  Camille ended the call, hanging up the receiver.

“Oliver still behind on the shipment?” Sophie asked, temporarily forgetting her irritation with Vivian.

“Ah…Ollie, he does what I tell him.  He’ll get the job finis if he knows what is good for him, n’est pas?”

“Oh Camille you’re a real shark.  Are you sure you never worked for some French mafia?” Sophie said with a teasing smile.

“I know nothing of French mafia. Now the Italian is another story altogether,” Camille winked.

Sophie remembered why she was there in the first place.  “Speaking of sharks, I distinctly remember begging you not to give me Vivian Gardner anymore.”

“I know chère.  But she asked for you personally, and I couldn’t refuse,” Camille replied with an elegant shrug.

“You know how she is.  This is the fifth time. Every time she acquires a new husband it seems it’s time to change the layout of the entire house.  Now she wants to change a design because she wants passion purple instead of summer peach.  She drives me crazy.”

“I know oui.”

“I’m just happy that this job is almost over and with the additional commission it makes the headache she’s given me almost worth it.  Tomorrow I’ll be gone and out from under the tyranny of Vivian and her passion purple walls.”

“Oui, that’s right.  Your brother, Doug, is getting married soon, n’est pas.”

“Yes, he’s marrying Robyn in two months.  I’m just so happy for them.  And I can’t wait to see Lizzie and her daughter, Zoe.”

“You’re not upset about your brother and amie getting married?” Sophie grimaced slightly at the question.

“It was kind of a shock at first, maybe because no one had told me they were dating.  It’s still weird to think about it, but I’m happy.”  Sophie forced a smile that she knew didn’t fool Camille. 

“I know, but it’s natural to feel strange about your friend and brother getting marié.”

But she felt awful for feeling that way.  It was like betraying two of the people she loved most, but she couldn’t help it.  What was wrong with her? She knew the answer even before she asked the question.  She was jealous of what Doug and Robyn had.

“Ah Sophie, don’t look so down,” Camille said softly noticing her expression.  “L’ amour will find its path to you, have no doubt.”

“What? No, no…it’s not that, well not that entirely.  When Porter dumped me last month for his spring-fling secretary, he did it right before Doug and Robyn announced their engagement.  It kind of put a damper on things.

“Besides, I’m not looking for love right now. It’s too much a hassle.  Anyway, I think I want something simple, more about the physical and less of an actual relationship. More casual, I guess.  What does that make me,” Sophie sighed disgusted with her lack of a love, no scratch that, a sex life.

“It makes you a man,” Camille replied with a relaxed shrug.

“I do sound a little chauvinistic, don’t I,” Sophie chuckled.

“I know of what you want. A man…,” she continued despite Sophie’s eye rolling.  “A man to incite the passion in you just while you are there in.…in Freda….no that’s not it…” Camille snapped her fingers knowing the name was on the tip of her tongue.

Sophie sighed, for all of Camille’s cunning the woman couldn’t remember names to save her life.

“You mean Fredonia.”

“I know.  Fredonia, oui.”

Sophie didn’t want to disappoint Camille, but there weren’t really any men her type in Fredonia.  Well, there hadn’t been any since the last time she’d been home. 

So what really stopped her from having a casual affair?  Nothing, her inner wanton stated. She was a mature responsible adult, one that could handle a casual affair.  And she was only going to be in town for two weeks anyway, to help Robyn with planning the wedding and to spend some of her vacation time. 

She could find a nice, intelligent, good-looking guy who wouldn’t mind having a no-strings-attached affair for the limited time she was in town.  Well, two out of three wouldn’t be so bad.  And after their time together was over, they could both go their separate ways with no problem or hurt feelings. That wild side of her needed the freedom she had never really allowed it. It was time for some fun.

“You’re right Camille.  Starting tomorrow, I’m on a mission.  I’m getting myself a man.”  Sophie said determined.
 
Chapter 2

Nash Brennan slowed his Harley to a halt, pulling onto the shoulder when he heard a siren and saw a police car’s flashing lights speeding up behind him.  Damn.  He didn’t need this right now.  He was already late for his friend’s party, due to an extended stay in Vegas that confirmed his belief that luck was indeed a lady and now on top of things he was getting busted for going four miles over the speed limit.  Hell, he hadn’t even seen the patrol car hiding behind the Welcome to Fredonia sign until it was too late.  He was definitely getting older.  Double Damn.  Couldn’t someone cut him a break?

Besides he really did need to get to the party, since he was the best man and Doug would be disappointed if he didn’t show up.  Doug Owen was Nash’s best friend and had been since they’d both been caught sneaking frogs out of Mr. Thompson’s fifth grade science class.  Nash smiled as he recalled that a couple of the frogs had found their way into principal’s briefcase.  They’d both gotten detention for a whole month, but it had been worth making the lasting friendship with a fellow amphibian hijacker.

Nash waited as he saw from the motorcycle’s side mirrors the police car slow to a stop behind him.  The officer climbed out and walked towards him with a familiar gait.  Nash couldn’t believe his luck, of all the members of the Fredonia Patrol he had to get Officer Wally Shepherd.  It was almost similar to the time he’d got caught joyriding in his dad’s Porsche with Carly Harrington.  But difference was he being older and he wasn’t trying to get into Carly’s pink-barely-there-tank-top.  That girl had the most amazing hands that could…

“Do you know how fast you were going?”

“I don’t know, 42, 43 maybe,” Nash snapping back to the present, taking his face-helmet off.  Shep’s eyes widened in recognition.  His lips twitched slightly before again becoming militant.

“I’d say you were going 45 mph.  So I’ll need to see your license and registration,” Shep said with an air of authority, but Nash knew better.

“Come on officer,” Nash said handing over the papers, “can’t you let me off the hook this one time? I’m late for a friend’s party.  You see, he’s getting married soon and I’d hate to let him down.”

“I can’t do that son.  If I let you go, others will be expecting it too, thinking maybe I’m going soft.”
Nash continued playing along, “If you let me go, I bet I could convince my friend’s mom to bake a nice chocolate cake just for you.”

“Bribing an officer. Now I could haul you in for that, and I’d really hate to that machine of yours at impound. And if you think I can be bought…then you’re right. It’s good to see you again Nash, m’boy.” Shep said extending his hand.

Shaking it Nash replied, “Yeah, likewise.  Can’t believe your still at it.  Thought you were going to retire.”

“Thought about it after you left town, thinking I might actually be able to relax.  But they’ve gone and birthed a new generation of Nash Brennans,” Shep chuckled.

“Come on, I wasn’t that bad.”

“No, but you were close.  Well you better go before you miss the party. Remember to slow down and watch the curve up ahead, we’ve had too many accidents with tourists on their way to the Canyon. And Brennan, stay out of trouble. I’m too old to keep up with you anymore.”

“Me too.”  Nash revved the engine, the sound drowning out Sheps’ answering laugh.  Nash knew one thing for certain.  It was good to be back.

---------------------------

Sophie couldn’t believe the throng of people attending the engagement party.  Half of the people here weren’t even close with bride and groom.  Must be Robyn’s mother at work.  Sophie’s gaze searched the crowded ballroom of the country club until her gaze latched onto the mother of the bride.  Mrs. Evelyn Winston III was definitely in her element.  Robyn was her only child, so Mrs. E was justified.  She shared the same flaxen hair, which was pulled up into a neat chignon, with her daughter.  It framed high cheek bones, a straight aristocratic nose which she’d also passed on to Robyn, but where Robyn’s eyes were deep green, Mrs. E’s were steel-blue.  Dressed in a beige silk pantsuit, which Sophie figured cost more than she made in a month, and accessorized with pearls, Evelyn looked like a deeply chilled version of Robyn.

Speaking of Robyn, Sophie hadn’t seen her in an hour.  It was no wonder with all these stuffed shirts packed together like sardines.  Fresh air was definitely needed, so zigzagging through the crowd to the side doors leading out to the veranda Sophie made her way outside.  Finally, she sighed, some space.

She just needed a minute before going back in.  It was still tough getting her mind around the fact that her brother and best friend were getting married.  Earlier, when she’d been congratulating Robyn and Doug, she’d seen the possessive arm around her waist, the covert glances of adoration, Sophie felt like she’d been bitten by the green monster, Jealousy. Again it was ridiculous, but it was there and she hated herself for it. 

She couldn’t even go through with her no-strings-attached affair idea because she knew she wasn’t the type for a casual fling.  And though there seemed to be plenty of guys here willing, she couldn’t do it.  Besides most of the guys here were either married with no morals whatsoever, or boring politicians hoping for your vote and discuss the new fiscal budget.
What Sophie wanted was someone exciting, someone to sweep her off her feet.  Who could take her out of her good-girl funk and let her be wild, free.  Just for two weeks she’d like to know was it was like to be bad.  Not shop-lifting bad, she wasn’t criminal; but swimming naked with someone bad, now that had possibilities. 

Walking to the stone rail of the veranda, she hopped up to sit on the edge.  The night was warm enough so that the skin her gauzy black dress exposed didn’t need covering.  She leaned back slightly and looked at the open sky.  It always seemed to relax her to look up into the midnight sky and see millions of stars.  It was like they were winking back at her, silent yet understanding.

“See any UFO’s yet?” said a voice to her left.

“What the….” Sophie gasped, startled, before losing her balance on the rail.  The last thought before she fell into the hedges below was, I said sweep off my feet, not fall on my butt.
 
Chapter 3

Oh crap, I’ve killed her.  He walked quickly down the steps, hoping she was okay.  She was more than okay, she was furious if judging by the fiery glint in her eyes as she looked up at him.  And Nash did the one thing he knew would only make her angrier.  He burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it.  Wishing he had his camera to capture the absurdity of this beautiful woman, Nash mentally took in everything about her, from the foliage sticking out of her short, almost midnight black curly hair to the edge of her dress just skirting the tops of her creamy round thighs, all the way down to the broken end of her left high heel.

“Are you going to just stand there staring or are you going to help me?”

“Uh huh,” Nash said absently, not hearing a word.

“Hhhellloooo!”

“Helloo,” he repeated, directing the greeting to the longest, smoothest legs he’d ever seen.

“Just my luck, I fall for a guy and he doesn’t even hear a word I’m saying.  Listen closely, ‘Me Jane, you Tarzan.  Tarzan help Jane’.  You got that.”

“What?” Nash asked, the irritation of the voice finally breaking through.

“Hey Tarzan, not that I’m not flattered, but could you take your eyes off my legs long enough to help me out of this freakin’ bush, I’ve got leaves in places leaves should never be.  So please help.”

Nash dragged his gaze up over her lusciously built body to the woman’s flushed, whether with anger or embarrassment he didn’t know, face.

“Uh…oh jeez…right, sorry.  Let me help you out of there.”  Springing into action, he leaned down, grabbing the hands she all but shoved into his face.  Before he could pull her all the way out of the hedge, Nash heard a distinct ripping sound, and knew by her slight gasp she’d heard it also.

“I didn’t just hear that, please tell me that wasn’t my dress ripping.”

She sounded so forlorn that Nash felt a sudden guilt at inadvertently causing her dilemma.  Especially since he’d seen more than she’d want him too.

“Let me take a look at the damage,” he saw her mouth open in protest and added, “Unless you want to risk mooning half the population of Fredonia, not that the men would mind.”  His lips quirked at the thought.

“I don’t think so, I don’t know you well enough to let you anywhere near my ‘moon’.”

“Nash. Nash Brennan,” he introduced himself, holding out his hand.  When she didn’t take it he looked into her eyes.  They were wide, like violet orbs, and he realized she must have heard of him before.

“You may already know of me,” when she nodded, he continued, “from my work as a photographer.”  She shook her head slightly.

“Or maybe Doug told you about me, you---?” but she cut him off.

“You honestly don’t remember me.  I know I’ve changed since last time you saw me, but I couldn’t have changed that much.  Okay, I did lose the braces and the baby fat, and of course I got contacts, but still that’s not an excuse for not remembering me!”  Her voice wavered slightly at the end.

Nash couldn’t place her, and the only girl he remembered with braces and the most god-awful glasses ever made, was….

“Oh my god…Sophie?” his disbelief evident.

-----------------------

“Yes, Sophie,” she snapped.

She couldn’t believe the big lug-head couldn’t remember her.  It’s not like he hadn’t spent hours at her house everyday or stayed the night with Doug often enough when they were younger, that he couldn’t even recall that his best friend had a younger sister.

And she admitted not recognizing him earlier, but she’d been more focused on getting out of the sacrificial bush, or trying not to hyperventilate into panic when he’d taken his time to help her.  But the fact that she’d just achieved a new personal best at embarrassment, it should have been a clue that he’d been in the vicinity.  She’d done it enough when they’d been younger, and always when he was near her.  It was like he was her personal jinx, or accident-prone poltergeist, except she was the only victim.  She remembered a humiliating moment in high school when he’d seen her in the hallway.  He’d called out her name and waved; she’d waved back, but in doing so hadn’t seen the janitor’s mop bucket in the hallway.  Bang, slip, whack.  Those were the sounds she’d heard on her way down. Then there was the time she’d almost choked because he….

“I’m sorry.”

“Uh...What?” she forgot her accident-prone adolescent-hood. Nash was looking at her with those chocolate-addicting dark brown eyes. She knew that he was playing her even as her knees melted. If he hadn’t been holding her there was no doubt in Sophie’s mind that she would have fallen face first into his shoes. All it took was one look and her inner teenager was already falling, literally, at his feet. But the adult Sophie knew she had to take charge before love-struck teenage Sophie embarrassed her further. There was only so much adult her could take.

“I said I’m sorry. It’s just that you don’t look like…well you.”  Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. Sophie opened her mouth to respond to that obvious insult but Nash cut her off.

“What I mean is that you don’t look like the old Sophie,” she watched him grimace when he realized what he said.

“What I’m trying to say that you look older, I mean different...uh…grown up? What the hell is wrong with me? I just mean that it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you. There.”

Sophie squelched the smile that wanted to show even though he’d just called her a better old version of her young self. She couldn’t help but want to mess with him a little. It was nice to see Nash sweat for a change.