Silvereye's Hummingbird (Carol's Story‪)‬

Light-hearted, feisty, clean, wholesome, romance novella for hearts of all ages.
When Alouette, a disabled orphan, entered her life and stole her heart, Carol needed a husband in order to adopt the child. Who better to ask than ever faithful, loyal Herbert. Well, not so easy, my dear. "I'll think about it," he told her. Not at all the reply she expected.
Between his indifferent reply preceded by Evan's rejections, Carol's ego was in tatters. Served her right, Herb thought. But the thought gave him no pleasure. He loved her, faults and all. He couldn't recall a day when he didn't love her. He'd be a fool not to take advantage of this opportunity. It might be his last. As Alouette's father, Carol's affection for the child might over time extend to him. And, at last on intimate terms, tenderly, with patience, he might turn her friendship into love.
EXCERPT: Carol closed her eyes, and for the first time in months, felt an unfettered sense of joy and expectation, so much so she barely felt someone settling into the empty seat beside her, until the flight attendant stopped the beverage cart at her row, and asked, "What would you like to drink, Miss, Sir?
"W-what?" Carol opened her eyes. A man sat beside her.
"Cat, would you like a beverage?"
"Herb?!" She stared, gaping. "What the—
Before she could utter a startled expletive, Herb glanced up at the flight attendant. "A brandy for the lady, a scotch for me, please."
His reference to her as a lady, kept her from using the expletive in front of the flight attendant. She controlled her outburst until the woman had moved to the next row. "What are you doing here?" she exclaimed.
"Your parents thought it best waiting to tell you I'm their choice to head their legal department at the new branch, once you and I both approve its location."
"Wasn't that supposed to be my job?" Carol asked through clenched teeth.
"It is," Herb said, grinning. "You're Public Relations, and I take care of the legal details."
"Oh," she smiled, green eyes metaphorically flinging daggers.
"Your father wanted the best for his over-seas branch. And we're the best in his firm."
Carol gritted her teeth and glanced around her. All the seats were taken. For an instant she entertained the ludicrous thought of locating a parachute and jumping off the plane. She opted for leaning back, staring straight ahead tight-lipped, determined the moment she disembarked, to use her open return ticket to immediately fly back home."
"Carol, look, your dislike of me aside, your father needs our expertise. For his sake, let's cooperate, do our jobs to the best of our ability, and once the new branch is running smoothly, someone else can take over for you.
Carol gazed at Herb, surprised. He'd actually used her given name. And his tone sounded earnest. It was no secret how much he respected her father, and how beholden he felt for Mark employing him straight out of law school. She recognized that her parents had meant her no harm by conveniently not mentioning she would be working with Herb, realizing, had she known, she'd never have accepted the job.
Carol sighed, some of her anger subsiding. "All right," she relented. "For my parents' sake, and the new branch. But I'm warning you, one taunt, one tease, so help me—"
"Thank you, Carol." He smiled pleasantly. She remembered the young boy who followed her about as she played in the garden behind the house and the grounds surrounding the estate. Sometimes, when no grownup was looking, she'd climb over the stone fence that bordered the property, and manage to part-climb, part slide down to the banks of the Hudson River. Herb was pudgy at that early age, but he stumbled persistently behind her, most of the time rolling downhill, arriving at her side, bruised and disheveled. He had the preposterous idea that she needed his protection, so much so that as she and Herb grew, her parents expected it of him. He became her chaperone.