Man in the Moon (Sweet Escapes Book 1) Read online

  Man in the Moon

  By

  Melissa Gardener

  Man in the Moon by Melissa Gardener

  Copyright © 2015 Melissa Gardener

  Published by Melissa Gardener

  All rights reserved

  Edited by D.J. White

  Cover design by Monark Design Services

  Original cover image by Кирилл Рыжов

  Original back images by Antonio Diaz and Romolo Tavani

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author's imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  For Brian who is my real Man in the Moon

  For my fandom family whose unwavering support means the world to me

  Synopsis

  Her Nana had always told her she would find the peanut butter to her jelly. But, at twenty-nine, Chris was still looking for that perfect one—the man who didn’t exist. He was like the Man in the Moon; a simple fairy tale that would never be real.

  Andrew was very real, though, and when he came back home after being away for close to twenty years, seeing Chris again ignited unforgettable memories he had buried long ago.

  With a sprinkling of help from Chris’s new boss, and a little luck in love, perhaps these two could reconnect and make new memories.

  From childhood friends to adults, would Chris let Andrew be her real Man in the Moon?

  Chapter 1

  As Chris sat at the window seat in her childhood bedroom and looked out into the darkness, she couldn’t help but think of her Nana Laurence. She had been only sixteen when the dear, old woman passed, but the memories she made with Chris would last a lifetime.

  Clouds moved with the wind, uncovering the bright, full moon beyond, and Chris smiled as she watched the face of the Man in the Moon appear before her. She closed her eyes, reminiscing about stories her Nana had told her regarding that man as they sat at that very window.

  Chris had returned home a broken woman a few days earlier, and that special memory was the only thing that had managed to make her lips curl up into a tiny hint of a smile.

  She felt hopeless as she hugged her knees to her chest and spoke aloud to the woman who had practically raised her. “Nana, I don’t know what to do anymore. How am I supposed to trust anyone?” Tears fell down Chris’s cheeks and she didn’t bother wiping them before continuing, “I loved him, I swear I did. He loved me too, but it just...wasn’t enough. I couldn’t do it. It felt so wrong, Nana.”

  She sniffled and fell apart, thinking of a love that never was meant to be. “He says he loves someone else, anyway; that he feels for her more than he does for me and he wants to see if there’s something there. It was mutual and he didn’t cheat, but I can’t help feeling so...ridiculous.” Hiccupping, she remembered how her grandmother would equate true love to one’s other half. It was why Henry, her son and Chris’s father, had never remarried. Eva, Chris’s mother, was it for him and there would never be another.

  Chris had grown up watching her father meander through life all alone. The prospect of living that way made Chris’s body convulse into loud sobs that echoed through the small house.

  Fortunately, Henry was at work on the night shift and wasn’t there to witness his daughter’s breakdown.

  She had returned to live with him for a couple days while Frank moved out of her apartment. Chris didn’t care about what he took with him, she just wanted him out.

  “I know you said he was out there, Nana, but where?” she asked through her sobs. Saying these things out loud liberated her heart a little more and helped her grieve the loss of a relationship that was never right for either of them.

  It was one of many for Chris, unfortunately. She wasn’t shy or quiet and attracted a fair share of men, but she seemed to always pick out the wrong ones. No matter how hard she tried, Frank would never be the one to fully capture her heart. Deep down, he must have known it, too.

  As a teenager, Chris dated one of her best friends, but the pair didn’t stay together for very long. After high school, Chris went off to college and Oliver moved to the city where he met Abby. The two had been married for ages and had three beautiful children.

  While in college, Chris dated a few handsome, young men, but none of them stuck around for long. There was always something wrong; something that didn’t mesh with any of them.

  Mark was too short, which was something of a feat as Chris wasn’t exactly tall herself, but she towered over him, making her feel awkward. She broke it off and never saw him again.

  Jeremy was...an asshole of epic proportions. Not toward Chris, thank goodness, but he disregarded everyone else, and it made Chris feel embarrassed to be around him. He was now in prison for a slew of misdemeanors. She had dodged a bullet there.

  Mark was a decent guy, but nothing to write home about. He never made Chris’s toes curl. His kisses were sloppy at best and his bedroom skills were...less than stellar. After a year of bad sex and a relationship that was going nowhere because of a serious case of commitment phobia on Chris’s part, she broke it off with him. Mark was now married to his old high school sweetheart with whom he reconnected after Chris had left him. They had two kids, a boy and a girl, and twin boys on the way. Mark could have been the one, but he simply wasn’t.

  And now Frank. Chris had met him in a bar. He was nice, giving, decent in the sack. He wanted a commitment, kids and the whole nine yards, as Chris did. With him, she thought she had finally found that other half; that peanut butter to her jelly. They were engaged after dating for six months and started living together shortly thereafter. Chris loved him, she was sure she did, but there was always something nagging at her in the back of her mind. They had fire and passion, but it wasn’t...enough. She figured that was the best she could do, and he seemed to be the perfect man for her, so she moved forward at building a life with him. She didn’t think things would ever be better because they were never particularly bad. Not like this.

  A year later, once they were settled into their life together, Chris received a call from Mindy, Frank’s secretary. She was asking about their wedding, and Mindy was genuinely happy about it all, while Chris was...not. It all felt off. Someone else, their friend, was more excited than she was and Chris knew then things had to change. She knew she couldn’t do this to him. He deserved better. She deserved better. It was her fault they were breaking up, yet she couldn’t stop crying. Wasn’t this what she wanted? They broke up that night and she came home to her father’s house, where she had been nursing her wounds ever since. She wondered if things would ever be good again between her and Frank. He had been good to her; a friend, if nothing more. She needed to step back before it was too late.

  “It’s all too much, Nana. I’m starting a new job tomorrow, and I have all this stress and heartache nagging at me. These people will think I’m a basket case if I don’t get my shit together.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeves and searched the rounded moon’s face for answers. “I wish you were still here, Nana. I miss you.” A new round of sobs rang out as her heart ached and her chest compressed. “I miss Momma, too. I wish I still had her. I wish you both could be here with me.”

  Pulling the afghan from the edge of the window seat, Chris snuggled one of the throw pillows. With the light
of the moon shining down on her, she fell asleep, dreaming of happier days as she ran around a beautiful field of flowers, picking them and bringing home colorful bouquets for the two special women she missed dearly.

  Chapter 2

  Chris’s phone chirped; alerting her it was time to get up and get going. As turbulent as her personal life had become within the last forty-eight hours, her career was also going through major changes.

  She had quit her job as a secretary for one of the local accounting firms in order to pursue her dreams as a florist. She had taken online courses in floral design—botany and flower arrangements—and was looking forward to working with old Mrs. Davis at Daisy's Flowers. The older woman was looking to retire and had offered to take Chris under her wing to eventually sell her the business.

  Chris was giddy as all the anxiety and sadness from the previous night washed away with the prospect of a new day—a new life.

  This was good; great even. Everything from now on was going to be new. A fresh start.

  You can do this, she told herself. She stretched and groaned; her body unaccustomed to sleeping on the two inches of padding that made up the top of the window seat.

  She wasn’t too afraid of change. She had grown up knowing that getting used to routine would only lead to disappointment. Sadly, her mother’s passing when she was twelve, and then her grandmother’s four years later, had cemented these things in her head.

  Now, she would be moving forward as a newly single woman with a solid goal in mind. She wanted that business. She wanted to launch her creativity. She wanted to smell like roses and wildflowers every day.

  With a renewed sense of self-worth, Chris showered and got ready for her day. Frank and all the drama surrounding their breakup were still fresh in the back of her mind, but she needed to push forward. She had made these choices, she reminded herself, and now she had to live with the consequences—good or bad.

  Henry was sitting at the table, leisurely eating breakfast as she bounded down the stairs. “Hey, Daddy. Good night at work?” She quickly kissed his stubbled cheek and poured herself a cup of coffee.

  “Same as always, kiddo. You seem to be feeling better this morning?” He eyed her speculatively for a brief moment and returned to his morning paper.

  She shrugged and sat across from him, opening the wrapper from her strawberry breakfast bar. “I’m going to be okay. I just...I just needed to air it all out, you know? And Frank should be gone by now, so I’ll be sleeping at my place tonight.” Determined to do as she had said and get her head on straight, she took a bite of her sweet breakfast treat and looked outside the small window by the table.

  “You’re always welcome at home, Chris. Stay as long as you need.” Her father’s voice was soft as she met his eyes and nodded, swallowing her food.

  “I know, Daddy. Thank you.” She smiled and bit into her breakfast.

  Henry wasn’t one to pry into his daughter’s life, but he would always stand behind her, no matter what she did. She had looked so broken when she came home with only an overnight bag and a tear-stained face, but it was none of his business. He had hugged her and let her cry on his shoulder, as she told him what had happened. Henry understood her dilemma all too well and had offered to let her move in permanently. She refused, though, as he knew she would.

  She was stubborn, almost as much as he was, and he knew not to push the issue. He would be there for her if she changed her mind, and that was that.

  “All right, well, it’s been a long night.” He pushed away from the table and stood, patting her shoulder on his way out of the kitchen. “Lock up on your way out, kiddo. I’m going to bed.”

  “No problem, Daddy. I’ll call you tonight,” she promised, and sipped her steaming hot coffee.

  As she finished eating, she couldn’t help smiling to herself. Today was truly a new day.

  She was starting a new job; her dream job to be precise.

  She had a new home, well, in a sense, since she knew half the stuff in her apartment would be gone. She would happily fix it up to be better than before Frank moved in.

  No, today had more positives than negatives, and she would use it to her advantage.

  Taking a deep breath, she got her purse and the overnight bag she had brought with her, then locked the door to her childhood house, whispering a quiet, “Wish me luck, Nana.”

  . . .

  Unlocking the door to her now half-empty apartment, Chris couldn’t help the gasp that fell off her lips once she looked around the place. No longer were any sports paraphernalia decorating the fireplace mantle, gone were the fifty pairs of size eleven black dress shoes by the door, and there was now an empty spot in the dining room where Frank’s gym equipment had previously lived.

  “Well, this isn’t so bad,” Chris said out loud once she got over the strange feeling deep in her gut that had kept her anxious all day. “This is good,” she told herself as she looked around the room. She couldn’t help the knot in her stomach that twisted and untwisted as reality set in. This was real. Maybe too real. But once she took a few deep breaths and let herself take it all in, she realized it was better than okay. This was great.

  She hated that damn equipment and missed the days when she used to have guests over for dinner, and she certainly wouldn’t miss tripping over Frank’s shoe collection. Why that man needed so many pairs of black dress shoes was beyond her; heck, he owned more pairs than she did.

  As she meandered about and looked into the bathroom, she noticed the countertop was now devoid of most of Frank’s face creams and hand lotions; he was a man who treasured his youthful good looks more than most women.

  “Jeez, what was I thinking?” She shook her head and frowned. “Love is blind, huh, Chris?” She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, the knot in her belly slowly dissipating.

  She made her way to her bedroom and threw her bags on the unmade bed. “Well, at least he left me the sheets.” She shook her head as she inventoried the bedroom. The bed was still there, but it was clear Frank had taken the bedspread. Just as well, Chris thought. She hated the burgundy color anyway.

  Upon opening the closet door to get a clean shirt for her first day at her new job, Chris noticed how bare it seemed. Apparently, shoes weren’t the only items of clothing Frank collected. Chris wondered how she had never noticed those things before.

  “I was blind. For God’s sake, I’m an idiot,” she huffed as she picked up a deep blue blouse and threw it on. “Well, not anymore, because now my eyes are wide open.” She smiled to herself.

  She stood near her closet and surveyed the rest of the bedroom, noting how it seemed as though it was, once again, truly hers. Chris decided, right then and there, that dwelling on it would amount to nothing. This was for the best. “What’s done is done.” She sighed as she left the room, turning off the light as she went. “Time to move on.”

  Steadfast and with a skip in her step, Chris grabbed her keys and purse. She gave her now newly revamped apartment one last look before heading out to the new job and the beginning of her new life. She had worked too hard to let herself be tainted by her past mistakes. Today was a whole other day full of new beginnings for her.

  Today was the first day of the rest of her life.

  With the sun in her face and a deep breath in her lungs, Chris grinned as she got into her car.

  Oh yes, today would be great.

  . . .

  Three days of quiet observation had Chris wandering around the shop as if she had been there her entire life.

  Mrs. Davis had prayed she would find someone to take under her wing, but never had she imagined she would be so lucky as to find someone competent as Chris.

  Chris was a wonderful apprentice; kind, patient and a quick learner. The two women bonded and joked while working together, something that made Mrs. Davis’s heart swell with pride.

  On day one, Chris helped Mrs. Davis with a complicated funeral arrangement. Chris picked out all the flowers herself and managed to crea
te something equally beautiful and respectful of the dead, if such a thing existed. It was astounding to Mrs. Davis that such talent could have been wasted answering phones in a boring accounting office. Forever grateful, Mrs. Davis vowed to herself, she would do her best to teach Chris everything she wanted to learn.

  On day two, Chris assisted Mrs. Davis with paperwork, sorting out the bills, deliveries and orders, and inputting all the numbers in the right places in the antiquated computer program. Chris swore under her breath as she struggled with the old computer. The thing didn’t even have internet service, which she knew she would have to rectify as soon as the shop was transferred to her name. Thankfully, accounting came easy to her. Years of working at a firm and dating an accountant gave her insight into the inner-workings of the tax system. She didn’t know everything there was to know, but to maintain her own paperwork would be a simple enough task.

  On day three, when one of the regulars ordered a bouquet of twelve long-stemmed, white roses, Mrs. Davis sat back and watched Chris gather up the supplies she needed to assemble the pretty package.

  “Now, Mr. Harris always picks it up on his lunch hour, every Wednesday. He pays by credit card and leaves a generous tip. I don’t care what he orders, I always, always make sure to give him my best flowers,” Mrs. Davis emphasized, as Chris tucked the pretty, white flowers neatly into a cellophane wrap. “He brings them to his mother; the poor woman, she’s partially paralyzed now, you know?”

  Chris frowned, not really understanding. “I don’t remember any Harrises living here, Mrs. Davis. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, dear, that’s all right, I’m sure you’ll remember Mr. Harris once you see him.” The old woman grinned cheekily.

  Mrs. Davis certainly has her quirks, Chris thought.