Author: Ashley McClelland

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Chapter 3 The Fateful Meeting

Noble couldn’t take his eyes off the woman across the cafe. Everything about her seemed to glow. Her thick auburn hair with honey-gold highlights cascaded down in lush waves, reaching her tapered waist. Her lips were painted with cool lavender lipstick. Plum blush lightly colored her cheeks. The hue complemented her vibrant, sun-kissed skin. She read a recipe book, drank coffee, and ate pumpkin pie.

A deep purple scarf wrapped elegantly around her neck, striking against her white, flowery blouse and brown fur-trimmed jacket.

He was surprised to find that instead of pants, she had on a pleated, white skirt. He guessed she must have leg warmers or thermals underneath. Knee-high, amber-colored boots snuggled her feet and lower legs.

Her eyes intently scanned the pages of her book. On her left ring finger was a golden band inlaid with aqua rhinestones. Noble sighed heavily as his attention rested on her ring.

She set her book down and took a bite of pie. Chewing slowly, she lifted her hand and rested her chin on it. She stared toward the kitchen doors with a forlorn expression. The flickering candlelight illuminated the beautiful maple syrup color of her eyes. Noble grinned, drinking in her image.

As if sensing his stare, she looked directly at him. She smiled in greeting. Noble averted his eyes, nonplussed she caught him spying. When he turned back toward her, she had returned to reading her book.

Why didn’t I wave or say hello?

Noble rubbed his palms against his pants, befuddled by his unexplainable reaction.

Wasn’t he just acclaimed for having “the public aura of alluring sophistication, subtle seduction, stylish wealth, and effortless class” in one of L.A.’s top tabloids?

Yet, for all his seasoned years, he was flabbergasted by her little smile.

Perhaps I’m still disoriented from Alyssa’s mixture?

There was no telling what she had put in it.

Noble tapped his fingers on the polished wooden table and studied the ruby walls of the café—decorated with paintings of lattes, bakeries, roses, and snowy hills with pine trees—in a failed attempt to get his mind off her.

Steam wafted in from the busy kitchen as the double doors flung open. Noble swung his attention toward the disturbance and picked up the acute fragrance of onion and ginger. A frazzled-looking woman hustled into the dining area and slumped against the wall. Her coily hair stuck to her smooth, sweaty, dark skin. Her chestnut-colored eyes were moist from the seasonings flying about in the kitchen behind her. She brushed her hair back with a slender hand, running her fingers through her tight curls.

Noble’s heart went out to her. He saw she was dreadfully tired. She looked his way in a daze, and without thinking, he smiled at her, lifting a hand in greeting. To his surprise she waved back.

She began inching her way toward him.

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He sat up in his chair, his shoulders tightened. I hope she’s not one of my crazy fans. He gave a wry grin and made a mental note to remember to disguise himself for the remainder of his travels. Normally Alonzo catches these things.

She stopped an arm’s length away and tilted her head. Her lips parted and a soft gasp escaped as their eyes met. From her body language, he knew she had noticed the piercing, arctic blue color of his eyes. It was one of his most famed traits.

Noble shook his head to remove the escaping strands of his summer brown hair that hung over his eyes.

“Forgive me, but you have a charming smile.” Her voice came out timid.

The energetic current he had experienced outside began to rise. It was stronger and at his knees now.

He grinned at her compliment as his face unnaturally warmed. He pulled at the collar of his royal blue shirt before thanking her.

“I’m Trisha.”

“I’m Noble.” He held out his hand.

“No, you don’t want to shake my hands, they’re sweaty,” She warned.

He laughed, “You’re probably right.”

“Yeah.” She sighed and brushed her hands on her apron.

“Why don’t you sit down and take a break?” He offered her the seat in front of him.

“I’d like to, but it’s around 8 o’clock. The nightly crowd is starting to come in.”

“That’s a shame…I could use the conversation,” he mumbled without thinking.

Her eyes widened.

“That came out wrong,” he stammered. “What I meant was you seem flustered, and I could use someone to talk to. I’m feeling the way you look.”

“Well thanks for noticing my looks.” She quipped, before giving him a warm smile and sitting down. “I’m all ears.”

Noble feared he was too bold with her. His stupidity would only become more apparent if he spilled his guts out to her, a woman he had just met.

“Water?” he offered, motioning toward his untouched cup.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Trisha leaned over to take a sip from the straw.

She then rested her elbows on the table and asked, “Okay, pretty boy, what seems to be the problem?”

Noble arched an eyebrow at her words.

“I can be just as forward as you,” she said with a teasing smile before leaning back.

He chortled at her witty repartee. She had a spicy personality.

She sat comfortably and seemed eager to listen to him. A part of him wanted to dash out the door but her eyes seemed trustworthy. Even if she wasn’t, he reasoned, he could always just avoid this coffee shop for life.

He peered over at the beautiful woman adjacent to him. He slightly lifted his chin and nudged it in her direction. “Do you know her name?” he asked.

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Trisha turned around in the direction of his gaze. “Purple scarf?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

A small laugh escaped his lips, “Yeah, is she… with someone?”

“Yes,” Trisha replied. Her eyes squinted as if she was studying him for a change. She fell painfully silent when he didn’t deter from his interest in the other woman. In the space of the pause, she closed her eyes meditatively for a long moment. Then opening them, she voiced sheepishly, “Her name’s Rose,”

“Rose,” he breathed. She is just as beautiful as one.

“She’s a poet who collects paintings and wine. She wants to live on a vineyard and her favorite color, in no surprise, is purple.”

Noble smiled as Trisha described Rose before asking, “How do you know so much about her?”

“She comes here often… for therapy, goodies, or just to say hello. It’s her quiet hangout spot.”

“Therapy?”

“Mhmm… just like you. I’m her listening ear. I don’t know why it is but… almost daily someone talks to me about their problems.”

Noble stirred his hot cappuccino. “Yeah, funny, I guess. Maybe it’s your presence? You seem trustworthy.”

“Thank you.”

Noble sipped his drink before wrinkling his face at the taste. He’d forgotten about Greg’s warning. Trisha reached into the jam case, pulled out a few packets of sugar, and handed them to him.

“So anyway, do you know if she’s married?” he asked, hoping the ring she wore was anything but a wedding one.

“I think the ring pretty much speaks for itself.”

“Yeah,” he said under his breath.

His expression fell and Trisha reached out and briefly rubbed his arm. “It’ll be okay. God has someone special for you.”

He ignored her mention of God and sighed. “But I want her.”

“It’s not good to covet another man’s wife,” she said both gently and firmly.

“Perhaps,” he voiced, deciding not to speak his true mind to this woman. She obviously belonged to some kind of faith. “But it’s hard not to. I mean, look at her.”

Trisha nodded in agreement, “She is lovely.”

“Stunning,” he corrected, his tone like syrup.

Trisha took a deep breath before gazing out the window at the falling snow sprinkling down like white gold. The flickering light of the pink candles gracing the table danced on her skin, brightening her rich eyes.

“You know what’s stunning?” she asked. The soft quality of her voice was so low, he wondered if she was speaking to herself. She answered her question, “This weather, your blue eyes, this world, and… God.”

Noble followed her gaze out the window. It was beautiful. Yellow lanterns glowing below the starry night sky. The hills and mountains covered with blankets of snow made waves along the horizon.

“Sometimes we get so caught up in what we don’t have that we fail to see what we do have. We have a way of becoming calloused to our blessings and we lose the simple joy in everyday life.”

Noble turned to her, drinking in her healing words. “You put that well.”

She smiled in response.

Something about her expression made him forget his desire for a moment. “But I’m a man who knows what he wants. I guess that’s why my mom used to call me ‘picky.’”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping or dreaming, but you shouldn’t let your goals become a source of torment on your today.”

Noble pressed his lips together, falling mute.

“Besides,” she continued, “contentment makes time seem to go by faster. If God has given Rose to another man, then she is not the one for you. He knows what you need and want out of life, and your wife. And don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll meet all your requirements…and his. God’s not going to give you someone you’re not attracted to.”

“How do you know?” he asked, half curious.

How can anyone have such confidence in God’s ability to act on behalf of someone they just met?

He hadn’t prayed to God in almost ten years. Rather, his faith had become more explorative, and he had delved into enough philosophies and religions until he had collaborated his own brand of muddied values.

“Because he hears and values your prayers…and you don’t look like the kind of man who could stay single for long.”

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Trisha’s reassuring words melted over him like a balm in his heart. She folded her arms and sat back with a confident smile.

“I guess I don’t look like the kind of man who could stay single,” he jested, posing as if he were in a photoshoot. What she clearly didn’t know was that he had years of professional practice.

Trisha laughed heartily at his cocky pose and overly animated sultry smile. He noticed she had nice teeth and a bellowing laugh that seemed to start from her stomach and dive from her heart. He couldn’t help but join in. She laughed loudly before covering her mouth with a hand to stifle her cheer. It was one of the truest laughs he had ever heard. Usually, girls would laugh daintily around him, something he called “fake laughs,” but Trisha seemed almost as happy as a countryman who just won a new pig.

“All jokes aside,” he began as they quieted down, “your faith is admirable. Have you always felt that way?”

“It’s much less a feeling as it is a belief. And it didn’t get that way overnight, trust me. I’ve been waiting…patiently on God for some time now. But in this season of waiting, I’ve learned and experienced things I never would have. My faith is growing.”

“Like what?” he asked, suddenly curious.

“Hmm?”

“You said you learned some things. Care to give an example?”

Trisha gave a radiant smile, “Well, he’s taught me that patience isn’t the ability to wait, but the ability to have a good attitude while you wait. Not only that, but to wait faithfully, and full of hope while you expect the Lord. I…believe the verse is Psalm 27:13, and it says: What, what would have become of me had I not believed that I would see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living! Wait and hope for and expect the Lord. Be brave and of good courage and let your heart be stout and enduring. Yes, wait for and hope for and expect the Lord.”

Her words struck his heart, and her faith and compassion reminded him of his mother. He loved the definition she gave of patience.

“I like that.” His lips curved upward.

She lifted her shoulders, as if shied by his looking at her.

“What are you waiting on?” Noble asked.

Her eyes widened and her shoulders fell, she seemed hesitant.

“What?” he asked, wondering at her reluctance. “If you can be my listening ear, then I can be yours,” he reasoned.

“You asked me to listen,” she countered.

“And now I’m asking you to talk.”

“Many things…and a who.”

“That’s not specific enough,” he voiced, unsatisfied.

“No pressure,” she said with a hint of jest and defensiveness in her voice.

“Of course not,” he said, inching forward. “Take your time.”

She was quiet for a while before clearing her throat. “Well, I want to eventually become a massage therapist and… have a family of my own.”

“Was that so hard?” he asked, giving her a sideways smile as she released a heavy breath.

“No.”

“I’m sure you’ll be a good masseuse and an even better wife and mother,” Noble glanced down before looking back up at her. “You should consider being a counselor as well.”

“I plan on becoming one, except I don’t want to get paid for helping people.”

“Why not?” he asked, befuddled. He saw nothing wrong with charging clients for quality counseling. “How do you expect to make a good living otherwise? Surely not working in a place like this.”

Before she could answer, a gusty wind blew in and with it a crowd of young adults with snowflakes on their clothes and boots, engaged in conversations, the smell of hot, spiked apple cider on their breaths. Trisha watched as the group of friends neared the counter.

“I really need to get back to work,” she told him.

“Wait, one moment more?” he asked. He was enjoying her company. It was the most meaningful conversation he’d had in a long time.

“Umm,” she said, considering his request. She chewed on her bottom lip and then appeared to be apologetic as her gaze went downcast. She shook her head and then suddenly stopped herself as if she had been interrupted by someone mid thought.

Noble noticed the way her eyes softened with a glow.

He began to sense an invisible stream around his waist. It was comforting and warm, like sunlight. He rubbed his head, wondering if he was experiencing some sort of last-minute euphoria from the substances he’d consumed the night before.

Trisha turned her gaze toward a coworker who walked out from behind the double doors and approached the counter.

“Who is that?” Noble asked, following her gaze.

“Paula, my bosses’ wife.” she said.

Paula hailed the group of young adults and began taking their orders. She glanced at Trisha for a split second and passed her an approving look. It was so fleeting and inconspicuous that Noble almost missed it.

Trisha slowly agreed to his request, “Okay… I can stay for a little longer.”

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Book Review

"I just finished “His Liberating Flame” written by Ashley Thompson. It was hard to put down as the struggle from ‘salvation to sanctification’ was so amazingly described..." -Kathy Yoshimi

“His Liberating Flame ” is a captivating and unique “Cinderella” story written by the successfully published author Ashley Thompson.

The story begins in the opulent Los Angeles mansion of the “Prince Charming” character, Noble. He is a very rich, handsome, and internationally famous model.  He came from humble, old-fashioned beginnings, but in his problematic condition, he is far from being considered a perfect catch, at least in the eyes of Trisha, the story’s “Cinderella” character. Her persona as a generous, selfless, and sexually pure woman with puritan beliefs is well established from the outset. Her best friend, James, plays an interesting role in the plot, leaving me very curious. What part will the trilateral relationship between Noble, Trisha, and James play in helping or hindering the romantic development of my anxiously expected “…and they lived happily ever after” ending?

Two antagonistic villains in the story are Noble’s ex, Alyssa, and his self-serving professional manager, Anthony. They are highly motivated by personal gain to hold Noble captive in the kinds of addictive behaviors that often financially benefited them, but were clearly and literally destroying Noble’s soul and future health.

The rich, descriptive language fully engages the imagination and tantalizes the senses!

In the early chapters, Trisha’s pure agenda is quickly established in her interactions with Noble. Her compassionate nature and gentleness melt him as she prays for his redemption. However appreciative of her leading him into his newfound life, Noble can’t help but see her as a potential love interest and challenge to conquest, filling the story with many twists and turns. 

As she strives to make it clear to him that she intends to keep things on a friendship level, he remains very motivated in his attempts at winning Trisha’s affections by breaking down her boundaries and resistance to his flirtations. Her sometimes unpredictable responses kept me, as a reader, wondering if she would eventually be swept away by his signature irresistible charm and unwittingly become captivated by his less-than-noble agenda. 

I highly recommend “His Liberating Flame” as a good read! And I look forward to reading the sequel, Book Two, “Embracing the Future”.