Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Advice. Purrfect Passion. A Purrfect Gnomeful

‘Dear Anxious Heart, I’m sure your man loves you and wants to make you happy, but unfortunately sometimes men need a little nudge in the right direction. Also, why don’t you simply talk to him about it? He’s your soulmate, your friend, your partner for life, and if you’re going to be together until death do you part, why don’t you start acting like it and share with him your thoughts, your fears and all of your hopes and dreams? I’m sure he’ll appreciate it and love you even more.’

She sat back, a little stunned. Then she decided that Gabi was right on the money, and picked up her phone to call Chase.

Chase, who’d been typing out his report on the Kirk Weaver murder, to be put on his superior officer’s desk first thing in the morning, looked up when that superior officer stuck his head in and said, with a twinkle in his eye, “Have you checked Gabi’s column lately? I think you’ll find something there that you’ll like.”

And with these mysterious words, the Chief withdrew. So Chase took his phone and called up the Gazette website, and soon his eye fell on a particular posting.

‘Dear Burning Heart, I think you know perfectly well what you have to do, and you don’t even have to wait for the right moment to do it. You popped the question once, and she accepted, which was the luckiest day of your life. Now follow through and set a date for an even luckier day: your wedding. You know she’s waiting for you to take the first step, so why don’t you, stud?’

He let out a bark of surprised laughter. Who was this Gabi, and how did she know so much about him? But just then, his phone chimed, and when he saw it was Odelia, he picked up and immediately, before she had a chance to say something, said, “When are we getting married, babe? I can’t wait to make what we share official, and tell the world.”

“Oh, Chase,” she said after a momentary stunned silence, in which he thought his heart would pounce through his chest. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Marge was idly leafing through a Debbie Macomber book, checking it for marks and creases before putting it back on the shelf, when she suddenly remembered she still had to call Odelia and ask her to drop by that evening and pick up that tub of spaghetti sauce.

Walking back to her desk, she picked up her phone, and saw that her daughter had left a message. ‘Mom, check Gabi. Do it NOW!’

Frowning, she did as Odelia suggested, and saw that Gabi had posted a new answer to a question she’d asked last week. Huh. How weird was that?

‘Dear Bookish Heart, sometimes you don’t have to wait for your significant other to take the initiative but take matters into your own hands instead. You know he wants to go on that trip just as much as you do, but has been putting it off. So simply tell him that if he doesn’t want to go with you, you’ll ask a friend to accompany you on this trip. And by sheer magic you’ll find that all of his commitments will suddenly melt away, and that he’ll be more than happy to follow you to the ends of the world and beyond.’

Smiling, Marge then typed a message to her husband. ‘Just booked a ten-day vacation in Europe for me and Odelia. Hope you don’t mind.’

It didn’t even take five seconds for her phone to start ringing. It was Tex.

Mayor Butterwick wasn’t the kind of person who sat perusing the internet on a constant basis. She had too much work on her plate for that. So it was one of her secretaries who actually alerted her of the fact that there was something on the Gazette website that might be of interest to her.

Expecting it to be news of a more political nature, her eye was soon drawn to a particular piece of writing that was addressed to ‘Timid Heart.’ Stunned, she read on, and half expected it to be another harangue about her preventing Alec from rising to his rightful position as Hampton Cove’s next mayor. Instead, it was something completely different.

‘Dear Timid Heart, if in love you took initiative as easily and decisively as in life or your political career, you would have acted on those instincts about your colleague a long time ago. Yes, he likes you back. How could he not? You’re beautiful, smart, successful, and kind. So take the plunge and ask him out on a date already, will you? This is the twenty-first century, for crying out loud. Women can make the first move.’

She sat back, stunned, then a slow smile spread across her features, and she got up to look out the window. Out of habit, her eyes were immediately drawn to a certain window where a certain man spent his days doing his job.

Should she? Or shouldn’t she? Mh…

And as she narrowed her eyes, she noticed that the man’s office was empty, and so was his chair. Probably out fighting crime, and a warm feeling spread through her chest at the thought of Alec walking the streets, keeping people safe and making sure Hampton Cove was the safest community for miles around. How she admired him for it.

A knock at the door took her out of her daydream, and she immediately rearranged her features into her professional ‘Madam Mayor’ face.

“Yes!” she called out.

The door swung open, and a large bouquet of flowers appeared. Then, as the bouquet lowered, a face became visible: it was none other than Alec Lip himself, not fighting crime, but delivering flowers to his boss.

“Chief!” she said, her heart skipping a beat. “What’s going on?”

“These are for you, Madam Mayor,” the Chief said as he hesitatingly stepped into the room and haltingly launched into his speech. “I just figured… I just thought… Well, you do such a great job, day in and day out, to keep this town running… that I figured…”

“Well,” she said, admiring the gorgeous selection. “Just, um, put them on that table over there, will you?” She took a whiff and smiled. They smelled delicious.

The bouquet placed down, they both stood staring at it for a moment, lost for words. Then finally the Chief said, “Actually there’s something…”

“… something I wanted to say…” she said simultaneously, then smiled, and added, “You go first.”

“No, please, by all means…”

“I just wanted to know if, um…”

“The thing is,” said the Chief, clearing his throat and inserting a finger between his collar and his reddening neck, “… that, um…”

“I’ve been thinking that, um…”

“You were thinking…” he said, a hopeful look in his eyes.

She swallowed, and felt heat rising to her cheeks. Oh, for God’s sake, she thought. She was a grown-ass woman. Why couldn’t she simply… “I was thinking that maybe…”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” suddenly the Chief blurted out. “I mean, if it’s convenient and appropriate and… if you have the time… we could discuss… stuff.”

“Yes, of course,” she said, blinking. “Hampton Cove stuff, and…”

“… other… stuff…”

They stared at each other for a beat, then suddenly the Chief closed the distance between them with a single step, and then they were kissing, and she was melting into his arms, and a sigh escaped her throat, and it was… oh, so wonderful.

When they finally broke the kiss, Alec was looking a little rumpled, and her glasses were askew, and steamed up, too, and he said, haltingly, “I like you, Charlene. And I thought that maybe… you like me, too, so…”

“I do like you, Alec,” she said with a smile. And when five minutes later Charlene’s secretary walked in on them, they were still kissing.

Crap, she thought. Soon the word would be all over town. Oddly enough, she didn’t mind one bit. And after Alec had left, and as she was reading Gabi’s column again, her eye was drawn to another message the advice columnist had written.