Dangerous Alterations (8 page)

“A verbal rampage about what? You lost me.”

“About this clown being in town and making you doubt yourself.”

She crossed the tiny room to her nightstand and lifted the silver frame from its surface. The picture had been taken nearly a year earlier, after they’d been dating for a few months. Even then, the love Milo had for her had been written all over his face—writing that had only grown more clear in the ensuing months.

If she was honest with herself, Jeff had never looked at her that way. Sure, his eyes had held desire and intrigue at times, but the same complete love she saw on Milo’s face every time he looked at her? Not even close.

“The doubt didn’t start when he arrived in Sweet Briar. It’s been there for a while.”

A sigh filled her ear. “It kills me to know you’ve been harboring this crazy notion that you somehow pushed that jerk into cheating on you. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. With no disrespect intended toward Celia, of course.”

Celia, Milo’s late wife. The woman he’d been married to over a decade earlier, only to have her taken from his life by cancer within the first six months.

“Milo, you don’t have to say that.”

“What? The truth? Of course I do. Because you need to hear it. And you need to believe it. The fact that this guy, this—this
Jeff whatever-his-name-is
threw you away so cavalierly just proves he’s an idiot.”

She couldn’t argue that last point. Not anymore, anyway.

“In fact, if you want to know the truth,” Milo continued, “he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air you do …”

She opened her mouth to speak, to thank him for his heartfelt words, but she didn’t get a chance.

“Or even
breathe at all
for that matter.”

For as far back as she could remember, books had always been Tori’s go-to of choice for any number of reasons. If she’d had a tough day at school, she sought refuge in her bedroom with a book. When her beloved great grandmother passed away, she’d pulled out favorite titles they’d read together and sobbed. When she’d been sick with whatever was making the rounds of her friends, she’d bypass the soup and head for her personal to-be-read pile. And when her engagement to Jeff had ended, they’d provided a way to hide from the world until she was ready to face it again.

Today was no exception. Though, at the moment, that go-to reaction had to be satisfied by merely touching rather than reading.

“I think it’s wonderful that your weekend off is coinciding with Margaret Louise’s little trip.” Dixie followed behind Tori as she moved from aisle to aisle, straightening and re-shelving. “Of course, I won’t be able to join in the fun, but that’s okay. I said I would cover you this weekend and I will.”

She tried not to read too much into the overeager tone in the elderly woman’s voice but it was hard. Dixie Dunn was practically salivating at the prospect of running the show for an entire weekend. The fact that Tori would be a few hours away during that time was simply the icing on the proverbial cake.

“Are you really sure it’s okay? You’ve been part of the sewing circle for years, Dixie. Seems only fair
you
should go.” Tori pulled a science fiction novel from the mystery shelf and carried it to its proper home. “If we did that, then I could take off next weekend, instead … when I can be close by in the event of a problem.”

“No!” A deep red spread across Dixie’s face as a patron on the other side of the room turned an angry glare in their direction. Dropping her voice to a more suitable volume, Dixie shook her head vehemently. “I put this weekend on my calendar when you first told me about Nina’s bed rest. To switch now would mess up my, um … my plans for next weekend.”

Plans?

Dixie Dunn had plans?

Before Tori could respond, the woman’s cold hand grabbed hold of her shoulder and ushered her toward the information desk and the lunch sack she’d been ignoring for the past thirty minutes. “Now, no more talk about switching weekends. I’ve committed to working here and you’ve been given a lovely way to spend your time off. There’s nothing left to discuss.”

She knew she should be grateful for Dixie’s help. Without it, she’d be working nonstop to cover for her assistant’s leave of absence—a less than appealing thought under any circumstances, virtually unfathomable in light of the stress of the last few days.

There was no doubt about it, spending a weekend in the mountains with seven of her closest friends sounded as close to perfect as she could imagine. The only thing that could make it better would be Milo.

She’d stared up at the ceiling for hours after they’d talked, thanking her lucky stars for his presence in her life. He was creative and funny, supportive and trustworthy, and he made her strive to be a better person whenever he was near. Surely Jeff’s misstep two years earlier had been orchestrated by a chorus of angels hell-bent on making sure life turned out as it should …

With Milo Wentworth by her side instead of Jeff.

“Victoria? Are you alright?”

Shaking her thoughts back to the present, Tori tried to remember where they were.

The weekend. The girls-only-getaway-while-Dixieruns-the-library weekend …

Dixie brought her hands to her hips. “You do realize I ran this library for more years than you’ve been alive, don’t you?”

She held up her hands. “I know. I know. It’s not you, Dixie, it’s me. I have a hard time turning over—”

“The reins. I know. Trust me, I know.” Dixie marched around the information desk and plucked Tori’s lunch sack from the bottom shelf. “But sometimes you have to … whether you want to or not. Now here, go. Eat.”

Nodding, she took the bag from Dixie’s hand and turned toward the door. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

“Take an hour and go for a walk, too. The fresh air will be good for you. Helps clear your head.”

Clear her head …

As if that was going to happen anytime soon.

She waved, then pushed her way out into an August day in Sweet Briar, the stifling heat almost bearable thanks to a gusty breeze the local weather forecasters hadn’t predicted. If she was smart, she’d head back inside, eat her lunch in her air-conditioned office, but the notion held little appeal. Somehow, being outside with the serenity of the town square in front of her and the familiarity of the library at her back just seemed right. Calming, even.

Summer had always been one of her favorite seasons. As a child, it had signaled the start of uninterrupted time with her great grandmother—time spent reading, sewing, baking, talking. When college came, it afforded her time to volunteer at her local library, preparing her for the career she’d been dreaming about for years. And now that she was an adult, she loved what it represented even more. Suddenly, the school-aged children came through the doors because they wanted to, adults came in search of the perfect vacation read, and Milo was off for nearly three months.

Maybe that’s why she’d been so antsy the past week. She missed having him around—watching movies, taking long walks, eating dinner together on his deck or hers.

But it was more than that.

It was Nina’s absence and Dixie’s presence, it was worry about Rose and the diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis that seemed to creep up on her elderly friend with little to no warning, it was Jeff’s re-entry into her stratosphere, and her inability to give Milo a firm answer to his months-old proposal.

Sighing, she made her way to the bottom of the steps and over to one of two wooden picnic tables that had been a gift from the Friends of the Library after their annual spring book fair. In spite of the noon hour she had the table to herself and she was glad. Her lunch was lacking in all areas except sugar and she wasn’t in the mood for any comments it might bring. Restless nights simply demanded sugar-infused days.

A flash of movement behind a nearby tree caught her attention and she bobbed her head to the left to afford a better look. Seconds later, a plumpish brown bunny sporting a miniature black bow tie hopped into the clearing.

“Paris?” she asked as she released her death grip on the chocolate bar inside her bag and stood. “Is that you?”

The bunny stopped, turned back toward the tree, and made a beeline toward the bejeweled hand that tried to wave it back in Tori’s direction.

She rolled her eyes and sat back down. “Are you trying for a second career as a psycho stalker, Leona?”

A huff emerged from behind the tree followed by the slender, stylish sixty-something dressed to the nines in a baby blue Donna Karan suit. “A psycho stalker? Really, dear, must you be so, so, I don’t know …
dramatic
?”

“Okay. A spy, then?”

“Of course not. Though, I did date a spy once. He was very charming and so very creative when it came to finding unique places to—”

Tori held up her hand, successfully cutting off a parade of details she didn’t want to hear. “Then how do you explain your fascination with trees as of late?”

“Trees?” Leona brought her non-Paris holding hand to the base of her neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear.”

Reaching into her lunch sack once again, she plucked out the candy bar, unwrapped it, and took a bite. “I know you were listening in on my conversation with Jeff last night. And I know you took it upon yourself to include Milo in that conversation as well.”

“I did no such thing.”

She stared at Leona over the top of her candy bar. “Leona …”

A tinge of crimson rose in the woman’s cheeks just before she lifted Paris into the air and held him in Tori’s direction. “Did you notice his little bow tie? Isn’t it precious?”

“Adorable. Truly.” She pointed at the vacant picnic bench on the other side of the table and watched as Leona sat down. “Now tell me why.”

“I think he has a little friend in the neighborhood. I just want him to look dapper.”

She shook her head. “No, why did you involve Milo without telling me?”

Leona tilted her head downward and peered at Tori across the top of her glasses. “Because I figured someone had to talk some sense into you where that sorry excuse for a man is concerned.”

“Sense?” she echoed.

“Sense,” Leona repeated. “I was talking with him on the way to your place after the circle meeting with the intention to simply hand you the phone when I got to your house. But then, when I got there, and I realized you were talking to Jeff … and I heard the awful way he was talking … I guess I turned the phone so Milo could hear, too.”

“You shouldn’t have.” She took another bite. “It wasn’t your place.”

“That man was making you doubt yourself. I wanted it to stop.”

“His actions two years ago made me doubt my worth. It made me question myself. His being here now has finally enabled me to see the facts.”

Leona set Paris on the picnic table and tented her manicured fingers beneath her chin. “Such as … ?”

“Well, first of all, his cheating had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him.”

“Haven’t I been trying to tell you that since we met?”

She shrugged. “I guess I needed to figure it out for myself.”

“Will you accept Milo’s proposal now?”

It was the same question she’d asked herself again and again throughout the night. Would she?
Could
she?

Something resembling pain flickered in Leona’s eyes. It was fleeting, and she tried her best to hide it, but Tori caught it nonetheless.

Seconds later, Leona dropped one of her hands and patted Tori’s. “Whatever you do, dear, don’t let a man like Jeff keep you from someone as wonderful as Milo. You will regret it one day. You truly will.”

She studied Leona closely. “You had a Jeff once, too. Didn’t you?”

A few beats of silence morphed into a combination head nod and mumble.

“He’s why you establish the upper hand in relationships and never stay in one for long, isn’t he?”

A second nod.

“And he’s why you despise Chicago, isn’t he?”

Leona looked down at the silver link watch on her wrist. “Oh, would you look at the time? Paris and I have an appointment. Leeson’s Market just got a new shipment of carrots this morning and I promised him he could have one if he wore his bow tie like a good boy all day.”

She watched as her friend rose to her feet. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“There’s nothing to tell, dear.” Swooping forward, Leona lifted Paris into her arms. “We’ll see you Friday, yes?”

“Friday?”

“The trip to the mountains, dear.”

“Oh, that. Yes, I’ll be there.” She looked from Leona to her half-eaten candy bar and back again. “I’m sorry. For the heartache this man caused you, Leona.”

“Then heed my advice, dear.”

And with that, Leona was gone, her off-white pumps making soft clicking sounds against the sidewalk as she made her way toward the center of town, her beloved Paris clutched protectively in her arms.

She couldn’t stay mad at Leona. She just couldn’t. For as infuriating as the woman’s actions could be at times, there was something always bubbling beneath the surface hinting at softer edges and genuine feelings. Everyone knew it. Even, perhaps, Leona herself.

Looking back at the remnants of her candy bar and the secondary bar still housed in her lunch sack, Tori couldn’t help but sigh. Sugar wasn’t cutting it. Not at the moment, anyway. Instead, she gathered up her belongings and headed toward the sidewalk, determined to wake herself up once and for all. Besides, it was the first day below a hundred degrees in weeks—a fact that only strengthened the merits of a brisk walk.

She tossed her wrapper into a nearby trash container and strode toward the sidewalk that would, eventually, lead her around the town square. But three steps into her quest for exercise, her feet rooted themselves to the ground.

Two years may have come and gone, but the three prior to that were enough to commit Jeff’s shape to memory. A shape she’d recognize anywhere, anytime. Including at that very moment—a moment that saw her ex-fiancé, clad in black running shorts and a Chicago Cubs T-shirt, taking his afternoon jog right through the center of Sweet Briar.