Cause Célèbre: A Feel Good, Do Good Romance Page 3

  “Well…” She hesitated. Did he really think she lived the kind of lifestyle where she had a selection of evening gowns in her closet? Or the bank balance to go buy something that wasn’t on the mega-sale rack? But still, a ridiculously handsome movie star was calling her to ask her out. That definitely smacked of fairytale.

  “I just thought it would be a good opportunity for you to network. For your cause and all,” Noah said. He continued talking at a rapid rate. “I’m sure there will be plenty of rich celebrities there. You can probably corner one or two of them for some donations.”

  Margot felt a faint sting of disappointment. She had thought for a moment that he was calling because he was genuinely interested in her, but he was actually just trying to be nice. Nice was good. She knew that. And celebrities signing up to help end slavery was very good. But having to go to some black-tie affair with everyone thinking of themselves as so important because they worked in the movies and then trying to get those people to actually care about some poor girls enslaved into prostitution just sounded too awful. Especially when compounded by jetlag.

  “Noah,” she said in the kindest voice she could muster, “would it be okay if I said no?”

  Chapter 4

  “Have you lost your mind?” The door to Margot’s bedroom banged open, and her roommate charged in.

  Margot tried to fight her off, but Babs was a five-foot-two force to be reckoned with. She pried the cell phone out of Margot’s hands. “Hello? There must have been something wrong with the connection or something. What she meant to say was yes. Definitely yes,” Babs said into the phone. “She would love to go. She’s thrilled that you asked her. She will be dressed appropriately and ready at whatever time you say.”

  Margot could no longer hear Noah’s side of the conversation but was able to surmise the gist of it from Babs saying, “No, this is her roommate, Babette.” Then, a little coyly, “Well, I’ve never met a Noah before, either.” She continued with, “Yes, I am confident in speaking for Margot.” After that, she felt the need to add, “She’s just kind of an idiot sometimes.”

  Calling her an idiot was the final straw. Margot threw off her blanket and sprang to her feet. Babs began rapidly speaking into the phone. “Eight o’clock sounds good. Okay. Bye.” And then she hung up.

  “How could you do that?” Margot demanded, boiling mad.

  “What?” Babs returned her incredulous look. “Save you from turning down the hottest date of your life? Yes, what a lousy friend I must be. Forcing you to go out and do something glamorous with one of the handsomest men in America. Horrible, horrible friend.”

  “You don’t understand.” Margot made a lunge for the phone, but her roommate eluded her. “He just asked me out to be nice.”

  “And you’re going, just to be nice. Isn’t that nice?” Babs dodged around Margot and made a break for the door, the cell phone still in her hand.

  “It’s black tie, and I have nothing to wear,” Margot reasoned. “I’ll look like an idiot.”

  “Yeah, it’s a shame you don’t have a fabulous roommate who can set you up with a gown or anything,” Babs called over her shoulder as she scurried down the hall.

  “Can I at least have my phone back?” Margot called after her.

  “Not until it’s too late to cancel,” was the reply.

  “Wait a minute!” She’d figured out Babs’s plan too late. Her roommate had already locked herself in her room and was probably hiding the phone in one of a million boxes of shoes. “You can’t keep me from my phone calls.” Margot shouted at the door.

  “Really?” Babs called sweetly through the door. “I think I just did.”

  “What if there’s an emergency?”

  The door swung open again, and Babs was there, giving her a wide-eyed look. “If you’re mother can’t get a hold of you, she always calls me. Besides, the only emergency you have to deal with today is a dress emergency. Get some clothes on. We need to start shopping. Stat!”

  “I need a nap,” Margot moaned halfway through the afternoon.

  “Do what everyone else does—have a latte,” Babs told her.

  “Everyone else doesn’t have jet lag,” Margot grumbled.

  “Come on,” Babette said, giving her roommate an inspiring elbow to the ribs. “Get a little enthusiastic. This could be the best date of your life.”

  “I think we both know that’s not going to happen,” Margot said in a flat voice. “I mean, it’s me, after all. If anything, it’s a pity date. Or someone cancelled on him at the last minute.”

  “Why don’t you try unclenching a little and enjoy yourself for once?” Babs suggested. “Please promise me you’ll at least leave yourself open to the possibility of romance.”

  Pursing her lips, Margot shook her head. “You know romance and I don’t mix.”

  “I know you’ve had some bad luck. But that was just a streak. Now maybe you’re on a good luck streak.” When Margot rolled her eyes at her roommate, Babs added, “It could happen.”

  By seven forty-five, Margot was dressed more glamorously than she had ever been in her entire life. Her long, wavy brown hair was piled high on her head; the gold flecks in her caramel-brown eyes were highlighted with just the right application of smoldering makeup; her five-foot-eight figure was shown to advantage in a Capri blue gown with just a hint of green shimmer; and her feet were a bit teetery but looking super cute in a pair of taupe strappy sandals with tiny rhinestones on the straps. She had to give her roommate credit; she was a wonder. Not that Babs had prepped Margot for her big date all on her own. She’d actually called in a team of experts to pluck, tease, highlight, and polish Margot to as close to perfection as she was ever going to get.

  Babs stood on their balcony for a good minute frowning at the weather. The Santa Ana winds had picked up in the late afternoon and decided to blow cold. “I don’t have a contingency plan for this,” she said with disgust as she came back into the apartment. “I have several cute jackets, none of which are going to fit you.” Biting her lip, she looked up at Margot. “I don’t suppose you have anything that isn’t fleece.”

  Margot felt as jumpy as a cat on a freshly painted floor. Was it really the appropriate time for Babs to be taking potshots at her wardrobe? She knew, as far as Babs was concerned, any time was a good time, but that wasn’t helping her. Noah was going to be there any minute. “Oh, wait,” she said, sparking on an idea. “I have just the thing.”

  Babs trailed her into her bedroom. “I get full veto power,” she informed her roommate. “You’re not going out in anything with North Face emblazoned on it.”

  “I’m not that big of a fashion casualty,” Margot informed her. She slid open her dresser drawer and pulled out a slim box.

  Babs’s eyes grew round. “Your grandmother’s mantón?” she breathed in amazement. “You’re going to let it leave the house?”

  “She said to only use for special occasions,” Margot replied, sliding off the box lid and unfolding a mass of tissue paper. “And I haven’t really had one until now.”

  Margot lifted the mantón up to admire it. The shawl was a beautiful midnight blue fabric with vines of deep red and purple roses delicately embroidered across its hem. It wasn’t like the garishly colored wraps that tourists bring home from a holiday in Spain; this was hand stitched by Margot’s grandmother—one of the few possessions she had brought with her when she immigrated to America.

  Babs darted forward and ran her fingertips gently over the shawl. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s not quite the same style as the dress, but I think it’ll work.”

  The doorbell rang, and the roommates turned to look at each other, Babs with excitement and Margot with sheer panic. “I don’t want to go,” Margot whispered.

  “Yes, you do,” Babs insisted, steering her out of her room. Before her roommate had time to panic, Babs raced into the front room and wrenched open the door.

  There stood Noah in tuxedoed splendor. “Whooh…” was all Babs
managed to say.

  Noah stared at her for several seconds in the manner of someone who is expecting an introduction or at least a hello before stepping across the threshold, hand extended. “Hi, I’m Noah. You must be Babette.”

  “Yes, Babette.” Babs took his hand in both of hers. “I’m Babette.”

  The movie star gently extracted his hand and then scanned the room for his date. “Hi, Margot,” he said, flashing her a huge smile. “Did you ever expect to see me again?”

  “Uh… not really,” she replied, the knot formerly known as her stomach pulling even tighter.

  Noah’s smiled faded a bit. Babs whipped her head around to glare at her roommate.

  “I mean,” Margot hastily added, “I’m glad you called. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

  This seemed to placate both of them. Babs’s frown disappeared, and Noah’s smile returned. Margot was so stunned by the vision of Noah in a tux that she hadn’t noticed he had one arm behind his back. “Here,” he said, pulling his arm forward and revealing a bouquet of yellow, long-stemmed roses. “I… uh…” he stammered. “I brought these for you.”

  “Yellow,” Margot exclaimed, feeling herself flush with pleasure. She’d always loved yellow flowers of any variety.

  “I know red are traditional,” he said, “but yellow always seem so much more cheerful, and I thought you might like that.”

  “She does.” Babs stepped forward and accepted the flowers as Margot’s feet seemed to be nailed to the floor. “She loves yellow flowers. Daffodils, tulips, you name it.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Noah nodded. “Oh, and I got a little something for you.” He reached in his breast pocket and fished out a small box of exquisitely wrapped chocolates.

  Babs stared uncomprehendingly at the small box after he placed it in her free hand. “You brought chocolates for me?”

  “Sure.” The movie star laughed. “I know who to thank for my date tonight. And besides,” he added, “I have sisters. I know you probably cancelled your plans to help her get ready, and I didn’t want you to feel neglected.”

  Babs nodded. “You’re good.”

  This brought a humble shrug from the movie star. “They trained me well.”

  “I’ll put these in water,” Babs said, meaning the roses. She circled around behind Margot and gave her a shove. “You two should get going.”

  “Shall we?” Noah did a quarter turn toward the door and crooked his elbow for Margot to grasp. It was a very Mr. Darcy gesture. In fact, Margot was pretty sure she’d seen Colin Firth execute the exact same gesture in Pride and Prejudice.

  Acutely aware that her roommate was about to shove her again, Margot broke herself out of her stupor and stepped forward, tentatively looping her hand through Noah’s arm. As they headed out the door, Babs moved to close it behind them. “Have fun, you two,” she called. “Nice meeting you, Noah.”

  “I’m sorry I’m being such an idiot,” Margot said, once they were out of earshot of the apartment. She knew Babs was probably pressing her ear against the door. “I’m just really nervous and jetlagged… and kind of nervous,” she added a second time for good measure.

  “Don’t worry about it. I get nervous, too. A lot, actually.”

  “Oh, come on.” Margot couldn’t believe the self-assured movie star got nervous about anything.

  “Seriously,” he insisted. “You try taking a meeting with Tarantino and not get nervous. I just force myself to fight past it.”

  They exited the apartment complex and headed for the waiting Town Car. “Is that the same car that was at the airport?”

  As if in answer to her question, Aaron, the chauffer, popped out of the driver’s side and opened the rear passenger door. “Hi, Aaron,” she called out.

  “Yeah, I hope you don’t think this is too Hollywood, but I keep a driver on call,” Noah told her.

  “Must be nice.” Margot hated fighting the Los Angeles traffic. “Any specific reason or just so you don’t have to look for parking?”

  “Kind of a combo,” Noah admitted. “You always hear about celebrities getting pulled over for DUIs and stuff. If I’m at a party and I’ve had a few glasses of champagne, I don’t want to risk hurting anyone or getting arrested. Plus,” he shrugged, “I hate the traffic here.”

  “Me, too,” Margot said as she slid into the Town Car. “Believe me, if I could afford a personal car service, I would definitely get one. Imagine all the extra sleep you could get.”

  Noah laughed a deep down chuckle as he slid in next to her. “You have a fascinating brain.”

  “Thanks…?” Margot said, not really sure it was a compliment.

  Chapter 5

  “Okay,” Noah said, once they were in the backseat of the Town Car, “here’s the deal. I didn’t know what you like to eat, and I was kind of worried you might be a vegetarian, so I didn’t make us reservations anywhere.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” Margot told him. She’d been so nervous about the date, she hadn’t really been thinking about her stomach.

  “But my publicist is always telling me that if I want to get in anywhere all I have to do is have her call ahead to any restaurant and they’ll, you know, make room just to have a name dining at their place.” He looked a little embarrassed after saying it. “I haven’t really taken advantage of the celebrity thing yet, but I thought if there was a place you really wanted to eat…”

  “Pizza,” Margot said before he could get another word out of his mouth. “I have been dreaming of pizza for a month now. With everything on it. I’m even willing to suffer with anchovies, if that’s your thing.”

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go someplace a little fancier?” Noah asked. “I mean, we are dressed for it.”

  The idea of being in a fancy restaurant and waiting forever for some skimpy portions of food while random strangers stared at them was not appealing. “No, I would kill for a pizza,” Margot insisted. “I would fight a pack of rabid raccoons for a pizza.”

  “Raccoons?” Noah was confused.

  “Never mind. Forget I said that.” Margot blushed a rosy pink. “What I meant to say was that if I had my choice of any food in the world at this exact moment, I would choose pizza.”

  “Hey, Aaron,” Noah said, leaning forward to talk to the driver. “Isn’t there an Abbot’s around here somewhere?” Then he turned to look at Margot. “Do you like Abbot’s?”

  “Are you kidding?” Margot was practically bouncing in her seat at the thought of sinking her teeth into the Abbot’s special bagel crust.

  “I know just where it is,” Aaron assured them, pulling the car out onto the street.

  When they walked into Abbot’s ten minutes later, there was definitely no problem getting a table. The customary crowd magically parted, and they were instantly seated at one of the few rickety tables. That, in itself, was a luxury. Margot hadn’t even fully realized they had seating; she usually grabbed a slice to go. It took some effort on her part to ignore all the phones pointed in their direction, taking pictures.

  A guy appeared from around the counter. “What can I get you?” he asked, directing his question at Noah. “Mr. Donavon,” the guy added in a very obsequious tone. It was a little startling for Margot. Abbot’s was an order-at-the-counter kind of place.

  Margot didn’t get it. The guy was covered in tattoos, and at least three things on his head were pierced that weren’t his ears. Why kowtow to someone just because he was famous?

  Noah shifted his eyes in Margot’s direction. “You’re the one willing to fight a rabid pack of raccoons for a pizza; what do you want?”

  She let her eyes flick over the menu. There was no way she was in the mood for a gourmet pizza, even if she was in an evening gown. “A large with sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, onions, green peppers, black olives, and extra cheese,” she said without hesitation.

  “Large?” Noah exclaimed.

  “If you don’t think it’ll be enough then you’d better get your own,” she said
dryly.

  Noah broke into a smile, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, I think I’ll just mooch a slice or two off of you.”

  “You can try,” Margot said, giving him a warning look. “But don’t blame me if you lose a hand.”

  In consideration of the fact that she was dressed for a black-tie affair, Margot used a knife and fork to attack the steaming pizza after it was put on the table still piping hot. As the flavors from the first bite rolled across her tongue, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment. “I have been craving this for so long,” she told Aaron. “This time was almost as bad as the turkey sandwich.”

  “The turkey sandwich?” Noah couldn’t help but ask.

  After savoring the bite for a few seconds longer, Margot said, “When I first got out of college, I joined the Peace Corps, and they sent me to Indonesia. The food is actually pretty good there, but after a few months, I began thinking about a turkey sandwich.” When Noah gave her a questioning look, she added, “You know, with some thick, chewy bread and lots of mayo and mustard with crisp lettuce and a perfectly ripe tomato.” Noah nodded, having never considered a simple sandwich something worth craving, but she did make it sound pretty good. “Anyway, about halfway through my stint, the cravings were just horrible. I could sit on my cot and just stare at nothing thinking about a damn turkey sandwich. By the time I got home, I made my mom pull off the highway so I could get one at a sandwich shop.” Margot carved off another piece of pizza, spearing it with her fork. Before popping it in her mouth, she said, “That was the best sandwich of my life.”

  Noah grinned at her. “And that’s how you felt about pizza this time?” He looked down at the slice in front of him with renewed interest. “Is this the best pizza of your life?”

  Already jamming a third bite into her mouth, Margot’s response was a bit muffled. “It’s pretty darn close.”

  They were silent for a few moments—Margot concentrating on her food, Noah concentrating on Margot. Finally, he said, “I love the way you eat.”