A Place to Be. Nancy Degenhardt

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      a Place

      to Be

      a novel by

      Nancy Degenhardt

      Copyright © 2011 Nancy Degenhardt,

      First Edition

      Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

      This book is a work of fiction. All names, places, things, characters, and incidents either have been used for fictitious purposes or have been created by the author. Any resemblance to actual events or places or persons living or dead is totally coincidental.

      Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com

       http://www.eBookIt.com

      ISBN: 13: 978-1-4566-0579-7

      Library of Congress Control Number: 2011906000

      For my sister Vonceil Payne who has always

      supported me through laughter and tears

      CHAPTER ONE

      A medium-built pleasing-to-the-eye man picked his way through the piles of drifting snow on the streets of Old Montreal. He turned the collar of his tan overcoat up around his reddening ears and lowered his head against the wind. He had found a pay phone and called in, but had been informed it was Christmas Eve, and he should hang loose for the next few days. After years of working in the field, of being alone, he had forgotten it was Christmas, not that it mattered to him.

      Walking past a bright neon sign above a door, PETE’S BAR OPEN, he suddenly stopped in his tracks, turned and walked in. He hung his coat on a wooden wall peg, stamped the snow from his shoes, and sat down beside an attractive woman sitting alone on one of the barstools.

      After ordering a dark beer, he said, "You're an American, aren't you?"

      She nodded. "A lucky guess, I think."

      "What is a pretty American doing sitting in a Montreal bar all by herself on Christmas Eve?" he asked, glancing around the almost empty room. A middle aged couple sat in one corner, and two young men were at another table.

      She looked at him out of wide, sky-blue eyes. "I could ask you the same thing."

      "I'm supposed to be here on business, but at the last minute it was postponed until after Christmas." He ordered another beer for himself and asked the bartender to serve the lady.

      "Thanks," she said, sipping the Chardonnay.

      The narrow room had a dance floor at the far end, and someone had started the canned music. Turning completely toward her where he could cast both of his penetrating blue eyes on her pretty oval face, he asked, "Would you like to dance?"

      "I don't think I have ever danced on Christmas Eve," she said as she rose and extended her hand to him. The music was soft but had a good dance beat. She fit nicely in his arms. He had always been a good dancer, and she followed him expertly. Her very fair skin felt satiny against his cheek, and her long blond hair smelled like flowers. When he commented on the scent of her hair, she laughed and said it must be the shampoo. Being almost as tall as he was, she was able to focus on his square jawline and high cheekbones. She noticed he had a small scar above his left eyebrow. She felt an overwhelming desire to reach up and touch it, but she didn't.

      The music continued to play, but feeling a rush of emotions they didn‘t expect, they separated and returned to the barstools, and he ordered another round of drinks.

      "So, why are you in Montreal?" he asked, looking serious.

      Fiddling with her wine glass, she answered, "I'm a freelance journalist. I came here following a story."

      "You mean you're in business for yourself."

      "Something like that. Sometimes, I take assignments from the various wire services."

       "Where are you staying?"

      She turned and pointed to her bags sitting by the door. "Nowhere. I checked out of my hotel room. I guess I intended to return to the States for Christmas." And then averting her eyes from his, she added, "But one place at Christmastime is as good as another."

      "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said and ordered another round.

      Still looking away, she continued to talk. "Last month my brother was killed in Bosnia. My only living relative is my grandmother. She lives on St. Simons in Georgia. I don't know why, but I haven't been able to go see her since the funeral."

      He gently put his hand on her shoulder but then quickly removed it. "Christmas isn't so great for me either. I lost both my parents last year a few days before the holidays, not that I saw them all that much but knowing they were there, somehow helped.”

      "I'm sorry," she replied sympathetically. They continued to sit, almost touching, and to talk.

      "Folks, it's 2:00 a. m. and besides it’s Christmas Day. I have to close," said the bartender. They quickly looked around and realized they were the only two left in the bar. He asked her to come with him. He had a hotel room, large enough for the two of them. After paying the bartender, he picked up her bags, and they went out into the snowy night.

      He placed her luggage on the rack at the foot of one of the beds, called room service and ordered an insulated pot of coffee and two cups. In answer to her quizzical look, he said, "I like my coffee as soon as I wake up." He then reached for her and kissed her. Although startled, she kissed him back.

      After a long kiss, he backed away, declaring, "I've been wanting to do that for hours."

      She slowly removed her long black wool coat and walked over and hung it in the small closet. She slipped off her boots. With both her hands behind her on the doorknob and leaning against the closet door, she confessed. "I have never -- you know -- done it. I have come close a few times, but never actually done it."

      "You mean at twenty-nine years old you have never made love?" he asked incredulously, sitting down on the edge of the other bed.

      "As I said, I came close a few times, but I never wanted it to be a one night stand. I guess I’m old-fashioned." She walked over and stood in front of the windows.

      "In my day I think you would be called a tease," he answered somewhat puzzled but quickly added, "I don't think that way."

      Looking at him through mellow eyes, she said, "I guess I've been lucky. All the guys I have known understood I wanted it to be because I was in love. They never pushed me. Tonight -- somehow I feel different."

      He stood up and walked over to her. "Maybe it's because we're two lonely Americans stranded away from home."

      "All I know right СКАЧАТЬ