Marrying Michelle

By Joanne Hill

Take a trip back to Mystery Date in this laugh-out-loud sweet romance, packed with emotion, lovable characters and a very unlikely romance!
The place: Auckland, New Zealand
The heroine: Michelle Bird, shop assistant
Hero: Luke Slater, retired rugby player.

Michelle (Mitchy) Bird has no dreams she can think of and no life. Or so it seems, especially when her best friends, Daisy and Penny, are partnered-up and following their dreams. Even more, she's burdened with debt and can't seem to swim out from under it.
But when her Uncle Dave Bird calls her out-of-the-blue with a job proposition, a proposition that appeals on so many levels, she has no idea just how much her life is about to change.
Luke Slater has retired from his lucrative career as a professional rugby player. He reached the heights of the sporting world and the fame that came with it, but now the career is over and he's facing life as a former player. Except there's a problem. A big one, and one that he's lived with all his life. One he needs to resolve as he heads into the next phase of his life. The thing is, he has no idea how to resolve it. Until his manager, Dave Bird, hatches a plan, and the answer may just lie in Dave's crazy, free-spirited niece, Mitchy.
If she agrees, and if Luke has the guts to go ahead and deal to the 'thing' he has kept to himself all his life.
Join Michelle and Luke as this unlikely but lovable couple join forces and in the process find that maybe romance can happen. And along with it, a love to last a lifetime.
Book One: Dating Daisy
Book Two: Promising Penny
Book Three: Marrying Michelle

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne Hill
• Release date: Nov 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005686857

Joanne Hill

Joanne writes contemporary romance novels, often with a rom-com twist. She researched category romance from a Readers Advisory perspective for her masters degree, and has presented a paper on the research at the Library Association conference. She lives in New Zealand. For more information, visit www.joannehill.com.

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MARRYING MICHELLE

Joanne Hill

© 2021 Joanne Hill

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. The names, places, and characters are a product of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

With thanks to Ally and Nick for all their help with this story.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

EPILOGUE

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER ONE

Luke Slater looked away from his view over the Waitematā Harbour where outside peace appeared to reign but inside—or more specifically, inside him—stress had taken over. Stress. Was that what you called it when your body was wound tight, when your gut ached and it had nothing to do with last night’s curry, when you were barraged with thoughts that your life was about to implode, or maybe explode, or perhaps it was both. English had never been his strong point at school.

Whichever one it was and without any doubt, his life was going to end up so far down the toilet, calling it sewerage was being too kind.

This, then, was it.

He eased onto his manager’s couch as the phrase washed over him.

This was it. Years of being Luke Slater, superstar sportsman, was all about to—finally—come crashing spectacularly down around him.

A chair scraped across the floor and Luke’s manager began to pace. His eyes were glazed.

Luke gave him a withering assessment. You’ve got a look.

Dave Bird drew to a stop. That’s because, he said, his forehead creased into a deep frown, I’ve got it. I’ve bloody well got it.

Luke rubbed the ache in his chest where the tightness sat. Immovable and unrelenting. You’ve got what?

Dave whirled around to face him. The solution. A brilliant idea. He began to pace again, and Luke’s anxiety levels proceeded to rise. We make you the poster boy. We make you the face on all the advertising, on all the posters, and we get it out there. He flung his arms open wide as if to embrace the world. We get you out there, we blow the lid off this thing once and for all and we blow it wide open.

Luke swung his legs around until his feet were firmly grounded on Dave’s floor. No.

Dave stopped. You haven’t thought about it.

I don’t need to. Luke got to his feet. I’m not going public with this. If I was comfortable doing that, I would not have waited until I was practically middle-aged to announce it to the entire planet. He went out to Dave’s kitchen and pulled open the fridge. The cool air was calming over Dave’s hellish idea. He grabbed two beers, tossed one through the air to Dave, and opened his own. He said, I’ll work something out.

Dave shook his head as he uncapped his beer. Luke, I’m your manager. I’m going to work this out for you because it’s what you pay me to do. You are not in this alone, so remember that.

Dave checked his phone and Luke quietly disagreed with Dave’s assessment. He was in this alone and that was the point. But after years of hiding this and years of keeping this a secret, maybe Dave was right. Maybe it was time he did man up about the truth instead of concealing it. Even though the thought of doing that chilled him, just as it had for as long as he could remember.

He stared at the label on the bottle of beer in his hand, and at the print below the logo.

Mitchy, Dave suddenly exclaimed.

Luke glanced up as Dave stabbed the air.

Why didn’t I think of it before? Of course. Mitchy. The crease on his forehead deepened and Luke prodded, Who, or what, is Mitchy?

She’s my niece, my brother Andrew’s kid. Except she’s not a kid anymore. She’d be around your age, maybe a few years younger. The point is, she could be the one to help you. She could be the answer.

Luke contemplated Dave’s shelves of photographs and certificates as he momentarily entertained the idea of Mitchy, even though he’d never heard of her. He went over and studied one of the certificates. Dave had played rugby at club level and for one season at regional level. He’d never been selected for the national team; he’d never become the star Luke had.

Luke turned away, drained and exhausted. Not the exhaustion of training, but the exhaustion of holding onto this secret.

Dave, he said finally, I appreciate your idea but I can’t have anyone else getting involved with this. There is no-one on earth I trust enough to know.

Dave began pacing again. Mitchy could be perfect. We can get her on our side. I’ll arrange a meeting and you can see for yourself.

Luke had a thought. Is she married or in a relationship?

I don’t know. Dave’s eyebrows rose. I doubt she is. Should she be? Are you looking for a wife?

Luke ignored the question. What he was concerned about was the chit-chat over morning coffee and the—what was the saying?—pillow talk. Not that the answer to the problem lay with Mitchy or anyone else.

Dave took a slug of his beer. I’ll call her and hook up a meeting.

Luke studied his manager as if he were crazy. You’re not serious about this.

Darn straight I’m serious. Mitchy is what they call a free spirit. Dave paused to rub his arthritic knee. The type of woman who is not going to give a damn about who you are and what you do. She really won’t. Trust me.

For the first time, Luke began to ponder the idea.

Dave said, She might say no. He shrugged. But then, we won’t know until we ask.

What does she do for a job?

Nothing fancy. Works in a book shop somewhere off Ponsonby Road. But I’m thinking if she’s anything like her father, she’s not that hot with money and I bet she could do with raking in some more, so that’s where we come in. We make her a lucrative offer. I’ll get in touch with her and we can suss her out.

I’ll think about it. Luke said it with no enthusiasm at all but he would think about it. He would consider the possibility that this Mitchy just might be an answer to a problem that had plagued him for as long as he’d ever considered it a problem. A problem he had kept hidden but one that he now needed to find a solution to.

Because, he reminded himself as he took a swig of his beer, in the end it was Luke’s decision. It was his life.

And right now, with his rugby-playing career over, he was desperate.

***

Michelle Bird ran a comb through her blonde hair but was having second thoughts about keeping the pink highlights.

The pink is fine, a male voice said.

She glanced over at Dr Joel Benjamin as he sprawled contentedly on the couch with his wife, Daisy.

Daisy was dozing and her hand lay over her belly. They looked like the scene on the park bench in the movie Notting Hill except they were squashed up on the two-seater couch and it was Daisy who owned the bookshop.

Also, Daisy was fast asleep and most likely dreaming pregnant-woman thoughts.

Michelle turned back to the mirror on the wall of the cosy living area.

I do like the pink, she murmured. It’s just that I’m not sure about it.

Not ‘out there’ enough for you, huh? Joel remarked.

Michelle contemplated the streaks. Maybe she was getting too old to be doing things like hot pink in her hair. Or maybe she was too young, considering her grandmother had begun using pink rinses when she turned seventy-five. Michelle turned away from the mirror and went through to the small kitchen of the flat to make a cup of chai tea. It was Daisy’s flat, above Daisy’s shop, but Daisy lived in Joel’s apartment now they were married. The place was small but it was comfortable with one bedroom and bathroom, a small kitchen, and a dining and living area all in one. It was close to work and public transport, and there was room on the landing to put her bike, now she’d gotten rid of her old car. It was, for the moment, home.

Michelle picked up her cup of tea and took the chair facing Daisy and Joel. Joel was studying his tablet but he said, Since when has pink been an old lady colour?

Michelle scrutinised him. You heard me say that? I thought I said it to myself.

It was barely a whisper but I have exceptional hearing. He glanced up from his tablet. And you have my full attention.

Michelle brought the cup of tea to her lips where the scent tickled her nose. She sighed. It’s not really about the pink, to be honest. It’s about my life. I love working at Daisy’s shop but it isn’t solid. It isn’t a career. It’s not what I’m meant to do with my life. What she was meant to do with her life was a moot point when she had no idea what that even was. None whatsoever.

Joel said, There’s nothing wrong with working in the shop and I can’t see Daisy ever selling Dreams By Poppy, even when the baby is born, so your job is safe.

Michelle slumped back in her seat. But that’s the thing. It’s Daisy’s shop and it was her dream from when she was little. I don’t have a dream. You had a dream, right?

From when I was a kid, yes. Joel rubbed his thumb over his jaw, reminiscing. I loved history and wanted to pursue an academic career, so that’s what I did and I never second-guessed it. He glanced at her thoughtfully. Which begs the question, what did you want to do when you were at school, before life booted your dreams away?

Michelle contemplated his question, trying to remember. I suppose, she began, when I was young, I had a fantasy of meeting Mr Right, having babies, living in the country, making my own bread and cheese, raising chickens, spinning my own yarn, that kind of thing. She added wistfully, I even liked the idea of a rescue donkey or two.

Joel spluttered and Michelle straightened defensively. Are you saying I could never do that, that you think I’m incapable of living a sustainable life off the land?

What I think doesn’t matter and don’t be so sensitive, Joel said.

Nice side-step, Dr Benjamin. You think either I’d never meet Mr Right or I’d fail at self-sufficiency. Michelle felt his doubt like a thump to her chest. It was moments like these she wished she had a cigarette, but she’d given up. Again. She added, Or do you think it’s both?

Neither, he grinned. It’s got nothing to do with Mr Right or with making your own bread and cheese. It’s about you sounding as if you’re over the hill and on the downward slope to your own room in a rest home. He gazed down at his wife. It’s entirely do-able, Michelle, all of it, even finding your own Mr Right. Look at Daisy and me, and Penny and Michael. They’re getting married soon, and you yourself said, who would have seen that coming this time last year?

That’s so true, Michelle agreed. Their friend, Penny, was engaged to Michael McGuinn, a lawyer she’d had a crush on from her teenage days. She’d opened a new cakery up the road, too, that had become one of the top places for coffee and cakes in Auckland.

Joel said, So if you really are keen on finding someone to settle down with so you can go rural and knit socks, why don’t you think about trying out for Mystery Date again?

Michelle waved the idea smartly away. I didn’t get on the show the one time I tried out, so television dating is clearly not for me.

Then a good, old-fashioned dating app?

Been there, done that. She stared into her chai tea for a long moment. I’m off the idea of a relationship, anyway. Between you guys, and Penny and Michael, I’ve lost my zest. It’s gone.

Taken aback, Joel said, You have? Is it something we did? Should I take offence?

Only if you choose to. She set the tea down on the coffee table between them, brought her legs up and hugged them. Wedding planning and baby showers was fun at first, but honestly, it's draining. I think it’s because it happened so fast with you guys. It went from me, Daisy and Penny, three, single women, to Daisy and Penny partnered-up, and to be honest, it’s all a bit much.

Joel ran his hand gently over Daisy’s belly. She gave a snore but didn’t move. He said, It sounds like you need to start afresh and figure out what you want to do. You need to get out there and find the dream that will bring meaning into your life.

Spoken like a true self-improvement coach, she said, amused. But you have a point. I’ve never had a solid dream. Just wistful thinking like the self-sufficiency craze. She reached for her tea, took another sip, and cradled the cup contentedly. At least that was something perfect in her life.

Joel gestured to Daisy’s belly. I don’t suppose there’s a latent dream to be a nanny, is there?

Michelle snorted. You couldn’t pay me enough to change nappies and get baby vomit down my shirt.

She picked up her phone to check her messages but Joel’s comments continued to play on her mind. She had read in one of her self-improvement books that looking back at your childhood was one way to uncover your life’s mission. Joel was right about that. Life had a tendency to boot away the childhood dreams, and those childhood yearnings often held the key. Except that she’d never had a dream of being an actor or a writer or a doctor or a lawyer, not in the way Joel dreamt of history and Daisy dreamt of her own bookshop. She’d just flitted around and changed her mind and done—what had she done?

She paused at a text and re-read it. Crikey, she said. I wonder what on earth Uncle Dave wants?

Joel was back reading his tablet again. Something up with the family?

I don’t know, Michelle said, baffled. Mum wants me to phone him but she doesn’t say why. She re-read the message for clues but most of it was reminding her it was her dad’s birthday in a week. Michelle murmured, I haven’t seen Uncle Dave in ages. Not since the last family funeral. Although, she said, he occasionally likes one of my posts.

Unsettled, she put her phone down. There was no indication what Dave Bird wanted to see her about at all, just that she had to call him.

And to do so ASAP.

CHAPTER TWO

UNCLE DAVE BIRD lived in a house off Remuera Road, nearer the Newmarket end.

Michelle had debated whether to cycle across town to his place or take the bus but had gone with the latter. She’d walked