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A Crazy OPtimist

By Anne Greene

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Chapter 1
Sparkle January tucked her new black tee shirt, with the word Maid Of Honor printed in bold white letters across the front, into her jeans and strolled into Harvey’s On The Harbor. So exciting to be young and on the verge of new adventure.

The restaurant’s familiar aura of warmth and welcome ushered her toward her favorite spot beside the enormous bay window. At this time of day, the white-clothed tables waited, mostly empty. A few men nursing drinks perched on stools facing the bar that circled in an expanse of polished mahogany near the entrance.

Sparkle wore her usual big smile, and the two older men shot up straighter and leaned toward her.

She swooshed by and breathed in the fresh air from the open window facing the harbor. She wrinkled her nose at the faint odor of salt air mingled with ship’s oil. The sweet scent of fresh stargazer lilies, tucked inside glass vases, floated from each table she passed, overcoming the slight stink of cargo ships. The splashes of pink color brightened the already cheerful place. Did she love this restaurant because of its ambiance or because her best friend worked here? Every day, she showed up at her go-to place where she received a cheerful acceptance of her good news or a sympathetic ear for the few woes she needed to unload.

New York had proved to be a daunting city, easy to become lost in. But she’d carved her niche in the few blocks surrounding her small apartment with this restaurant as the center.

“How’s my favorite customer this fine day?” The rumbling bass voice rolled from behind her shoulder.

She turned to face Nick Patrizio, and her rose-colored day grew dazzling. “Great! Not so busy today?”

“I’m free to grab a break if you want the company. First, what can I get you, Spark?” The five-foot ten-inch waiter braced both hands on her table and a smile transformed his garden-variety-New York face into a one-in-a-million.
“Just coffee. I came to share some news.” She laughed. “Actually, I really, really want to run something by you, and hoped you’d have time to offer me some advice.” She tapped her fingers on the tablecloth and straightened her shoulders. “Notice anything?”

“Wow. Loaded question. Let me think that one over while I deliver your coffee.” The floor creaked and Nick was gone.

She gazed out the window at a small sailboat gusting over the water almost out of sight. Sun twinkled on the jaunty waves, shimmering them with liveliness. A couple strolled hand in hand along the walk that curved beside the wide boulevard embracing the harbor.

A hand set a steaming mug of coffee in front of her. “Here you go, hot and black the way you like it.” Then Nick slid into the upholstered leather chair on the opposite side of the table.

“Thanks, Nick. I hoped you wouldn’t be busy this early in the afternoon, and I had to see you.”

Nick’s brown eyes warmed. “Never too busy for you, Spark!”

“So, what do you think?”

Nick’s eyes traveled over her.

She pulled in a deep breath and expanded her ribcage.

“You mean the maid of honor logo?” Nick dropped his gaze down to his coffee.

“Yes. Do you like it?”

Nick stared into his coffee, working a spoon through the black liquid.

“You don’t like it!”

“I’m not sure.” His brown eyes flickered question marks. “What does it mean?” He swallowed. “I thought women didn’t like forever being a maid of honor or bridesmaid and never a bride?”

“Exactly!” Nick always understood.

He rubbed his jaw. “So, you’re advertising you’re available?”

“Eek.” She hadn’t meant to shriek. The two men at the bar stood to their feet and started in her direction. She flapped her hands toward them with a panicked motion and smiled.

Both gray-haired men returned to their seats but kept their eyes on Nick and her.

“Not what you had in mind?” Nick chuckled.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Sparkle slapped her palm over his outstretched fist and tugged. “You recall that for the past three months I’ve come in and complained to you that my Pet Taxidermy business had only advanced to something less than stellar?”

“Uh huh.”

“So far I’ve only consoled a handful of loving pet owners. I’ve fashioned one life-like calico cat, two beautiful gray parrots perched on their stand, and five precious dogs. Each one of the loved puppies—a Shih Tzu cuddled on her fleece bed, a Poodle on his hunches with paws crossed in prayer, a Labradoodle with begging eyes and a tail that appears ready to wag, a Yorkie playing with a ball, and an English Bulldog with his darling face lifted for love was one of my best creations. Though I stuffed each pet with loving hands and shaped each into a completely natural position, those few forever-restored-animals, though my most artistic and finest work, simply didn’t pay my bills.”

“Do you realize your lips turn up at the corners, and your eyes light like neon signs when you talk about your stuffed pet business?”

“Oh, Nick, be serious! I can’t continue living as a starving artist. I must have more reliable income, or I’ll have to deflate my dream and scurry back home to Texas.” She shook Nick’s fist. “So, I’ve been advertising my additional business.”

“Advertising?”

“I posted one little ad on Craig’s List.”

“Uh. Oh.”

“I advertised this.” She pushed a note pad toward him.

I’m an experienced maid of honor and all my friends are now married. For the 10th time this year I became a maid of honor. That’s ten different engagement and bridal parties I helped organize. So, if you need an experienced maid of honor, or you need to ask your third cousin, twice removed to be your maid of honor, let me be there for you instead. Let me work behind the scene and walk down the aisle with you. Hire me for your professional maid of honor.

“And some woman actually answered your ad?” Nick’s dropped jaw caused a giggle to bubble up.

Sparkle jumped up from her seat and raised her arms dramatically. “Someone! I had fifty responses from women about to be married who are maid of honorless.” She slid back into her seat. “You don’t look that happy for me.”

“You’ll be attending fifty weddings where there are fifty best men and two hundred and fifty ushers dressed in tuxes who will swarm around you like tugboats around the Queen Mary. Why would that make me happy?”

“Nick, if you’ve ever been to a wedding you know—”

“Oh, I’ve attended my share of weddings…and I KNOW.” He shoved his chair back from the table. “Not a good idea, Sparkle. Dump water on that hair-brained scheme. Put out the flame. Nip that pipe dream in the bud. Retract your ad.”

“I can’t. I’ve already accepted two weddings for the end of the month. That’s four hundred dollar each, plus the bride pays for the maid of honor dress
and shoes.” She clapped her hands. “And I get to select my own dress. No more ugly, impossible-to-rewear maid of honor dresses for me.”

Between Nick’s dark eyebrows twin pucker-tunnels formed. “What do you do for that four hundred?”

“I’m not sure. Giselle mentioned she needed me to handle some unruly bridesmaids and help her wade through her wedding without losing her cool.” Sparkle twisted her lips. “How hard can that be?”

“What does your other bride expect from you?”

Sparkle sipped her cooling coffee. “Caitlin mumbled something about giving her advice on personal topics and acting as her therapist.”

“Hah!”

“Weddings are happy events, but some can be a bit stressful.”

“And you think you will be a calming influence?”

“I can. I can be calm. At someone else’s wedding, I certainly can.” She gripped her coffee mug in both hands. “Granted, I’m an excitable person, but I’m extremely capable of pouring aromatic oil on troubled waters.” She thumped the cloth napkin on the tablecloth. “You haven’t seen me take control of a tense situation.”

Nick blew out a breath. “Are you supposed to show up at the pre-wedding events like the bridal shower and the engagement party?”

She giggled. “Nick, I never realized you knew so much about weddings. Have you been married?”

“No. Never.” He spread his hands. “I hail from a large Italian family. All females except for me.” A rueful expression slipped over his face. “Weddings are an Olympic sport for my kinswomen.” He scooted back his chair. “Gotta go.”

“Wait!” Sparkle laid a hand on his starched white sleeve. “I haven’t even asked for your advice yet.”

“Forget this scheme!” His bass thundered, “That’s my advice.”

The two middle-aged men at the bar slid off their stools and rushed over. “Is this man bothering you, Miss?” The one with gray at the temples had his hands fisted.

She gazed up into two concerned male faces. “Oh no. I’m so sorry, my friend is quite emphatic in his responses.” She smiled. “He’s Italian.”

“We’ll be happy to escort him out of this restaurant.” Each older man grabbed one of Nick’s arms and tugged.

Nick didn’t budge. Stood his ground and shook the men off. “Don’t think so, fellas. I own this place.”

Both older men dropped their grip on Nick’s arms. But one sidled between Nick and her. “You sure you’ll be all right, Miss?” He croaked.

Sparkle sprang up to face all three men. “Yes, thank you so very much. Nick is a friend of mine. Actually, he’s my best friend. So, you have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s right. Head back to the bar and your next drink is on the house. Nice of you to get involved, but we don’t need any help.” Nick motioned to the bartender. “Their tab is on me.” He strolled away toward the ornate door leading to the kitchen.

“Nick!”

He turned.

“I haven’t mentioned what I came to discuss with you.”

His dark eyebrows lifted. “There’s more?”

She nodded.

Nick turned on his heel, strode back to the table, held the chair out for her, then slid into his own. “What?”

Sparkle whispered, “I didn’t know you owned this restaurant. I thought you were a waiter. Why didn’t you tell me?”

He cleared his throat. “I do. I am. I didn’t see the need.”

“You’re really young to own such a delightful restaurant in such a fantastic location.”

“Yeah.” Nick shrugged. “Dad willed this place to me with the stipulation that I provide for my sisters. None of them wanted the responsibility.”

“How many sisters do you have?” She gazed into his brown eyes, noting the tiny smile lines sprouting at the corners of his eyelids. Little by little she’d spilled her life to him as her best friend in New York…her only friend really. Yet he’d told her very little of himself.

Nick huffed in a long breath, his mouth drew down at the corners, and he looked older than his years.

How old was he?

“I have six sisters.”

“Oh, my. And no brothers?”

“Nope. Even the dog is a female.”

She couldn’t help grinning. “So, you know a LOT about women.”

Nick braced his arms on the table. “What did you want to talk with me about?”

“Actually, knowing you own this lovely restaurant, relieves me on some points, and makes what I have to say easier since you probably have a more flexible schedule.” She twisted her hands together in her lap. “You know I’ve only lived in New York for five months and six days. And most of that time I’ve spent alone in my apartment workroom.”

He nodded. His brown eyes narrowed and suspicion shadowed his face. “I know you view your glass as three-quarters full when someone else might see it as almost empty.”

“Do I do that?” She did look at the bright side of events. Else she might have taken the first plane back to Big D before she’d even opened her Pet Taxidermy.
And if she had gone home, she wouldn’t have gained so much weight because life in New York hadn’t panned out like she’d expected. But now, excitement filled her heart again. She’d soon experience another thrilling new phase. She dearly loved new events, people, happenings ….

A couple entered the front door and the maître d’ escorted them to a spot several tables away, but also next to the window.

“What advice do you need today?” Nick’s bass voice held the comforting rumble that made her think of safe harbors, warm fireplaces, clefts in a rock ….

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