Keeping Victoria's Secret (25 page)

Forgoing her usual morning writing routine,
Vicky spent the early hours of Saturday, July 15th, cleaning and
straightening the farmhouse. She showered and after applying a
little makeup, brushed her curls into a new soft flowing style that
flattered her. Though she missed her Nanna every day, she
appreciated having the time to visit the salon and get her hair and
nails done. There hadn’t been the time when her grandmother had
required constant attention.

With a few minutes to spare, she sat down at
her desk intending to get a little writing done, when there was a
loud banging at the back door. She ran to the porch when she heard
Jack calling to her.

“Open up!”

She opened the screen door letting Jack
squeeze past her, his arms filled with a bushel basket that he
proudly carried in and placed on the porch floor. “Here’s the first
of the vegetables Victoria. I wanted you to see them.”

She looked into the basket that was filled
with several types of squash, potatoes, onions, and cucumbers.

Romeo and Juliet came running at the sound of
voices. Cautiously they circled the basket, sniffing suspiciously.
Jack bent down to scratch behind ears and under little chins.

“Oh Jack, this is wonderful. I’ve been so
busy, I almost forgot all about the vegetable stand. Does this mean
we can start selling things now?”

“We open in a couple of days. I’ve put ads in
the local news flyers with an opening date of July 18. All this
stuff will be coming in like crazy. This is just the first of it.
I’ve got lots more coming, there’s a basket of green beans for you
too. I never did anything about hiring a high school kid to man the
stand. I decided I’d do it myself for the first season. I can pick
and do all the other chores in the mornings, then be down at the
road in the afternoon. It’ll be a lot of work, but what the
heck.”

“Jack, what can I do to help?”

“Nothing Victoria, but thanks. The agreement
was, I’d do all the farm work and you take care of the house,
wasn’t that it? Besides, I assume you have your own work to do.” He
nodded towards her office.

“Yeah, I do have stuff…. There is work,” she
said hesitantly.

“Okay, I’ve got to get back out to the
fields. This is the fun part, when you start harvesting. When the
apples are ready, we’ll have some itinerant workers picking. The
apples are a big job. Actually, Vince said his teenager nephew is
living with them up here for the summer. I think he wants the kid
to get a job and I said I’d think about it. Maybe I should hire him
to help pick. What do you think?”

Looking over the basket of vegetables, she
had an idea. “Jack. Tonight why don’t I make us some dinner with
all this? We could talk then. I’ll take out a couple of steaks or
chops make a salad and grill some of those squash. You’re going to
be working hard all day. It’s the least I can do.”

He grinned at her. “You’re asking me to
dinner. Is it a date?”

She frowned. “Whatever you want to call it. I
don’t care. If this arrangement is going to work, we need to be
friends and civil to one another.”

Jack sighed, “Thank you. I’d love to have
dinner with you. I’ll be here around five, okay?”

"Sure."

Unable to take his eyes from her, Jack felt a
stirring deep within that he seemed incapable of controlling.
Victoria was so beautiful. Today, she wore earrings and makeup, a
little pink skirt and a low cut white blouse that tied just above
her waist revealing a band of smooth tan skin. He cleared his
throat. “Victoria, I’d really like to be more than just
friends.”

“Let’s just leave it like that,” she said
looking away. “Friends.”

Nodding he said, “Okay. Whatever you
want."

“That reminds me. We haven’t heard anything
from Fred in a while. Let's call him on Monday. I was thinking
about it last night and read over all of his paperwork again. We
definitely need to find out what’s going on with the legal stuff. I
noticed your grandmother was named Victoria too. You were named for
her?”

“Yes, she was Victoria Elisabeth Willet. I
think of her every day, especially now that I’m living here.”

"I'm glad you are."

She nodded, unsure how to answer him.

Jack left and headed out towards the barn. As
she watched him go her cell phone chirped and she dashed back into
her office to retrieve it from her desk.

Marsha Chandler’s rapid-fire New York City
voice came at her in a rush. “Vicky Honey, guess what? I’m taking
you up on that invitation. I’ve got to get out of here for a couple
of days before my head explodes. Know what I mean? Is next weekend
too soon for you? If it is, just say so.”

She answered without having to think about
it. “Sure Marsha, next weekend is fine. There’s plenty of room
here. I’ve got three spare bedrooms.”

“That’s so great. I can’t wait to see you. We
can just kick back, have some wine, and bitch about men.”

“That will be easy!” she laughed.

“Would you cook for me? As good as the food
is in New York; every now and then, I want the kind of thing Mom
used to make. You’re the best cook I know of, after Mom! I promise
to help.”

“Want me to make that chocolate cake you’re
so fond of?” The last time she made that cake was her birthday, the
evening she’d gone overboard with the wine and given Jack way too
much information.

“That dreamy dark chocolate one with the
whipped cream?”

“That’s the one. Whipped cream, cream cheese,
white or chocolate frosting, whatever you’d like.”

“Great! I’m thinking the chocolate whipped
cream. We can have a girl’s night out with lots of wine and
chocolate. I am so ready to break out of here, leave work and the
city behind for a few days. You have no idea Vick, but I’ll tell
you everything when I get there. See you next Saturday around
lunchtime? We can get caught up.”

Looking out her window, watching Jack walking
near the barn, Vicky had a thought. “Listen Marsha, you know how I
like to keep Tori Baxter and what she does quiet? I’m doing that
here, just like in Jersey.”

“Vick, your friend Tori makes millions of
people very happy.”

“I know, but you understand, I love to write
about all that hot sex, but I just can’t talk about it.” Just the
thought of people knowing she’d written all those steamy passages
gave Vicky a queasy guilty feeling, as though she were doing
something naughty.

“Yes, I do remember and will respect your
wishes. Let me guess. This guy Jack and all the new friends you’ve
made up there in the sticks have no idea what you do for a living,
am I right?”

“Yup, that’s right. Would you be terribly
offended if I just introduce you as a friend from the city?”

“Of course not. Honey. I am your friend from
the city. All you authors are a little eccentric. See you next
Saturday. Can you shoot me an email with directions?”

“Sure Marsha, I’ll do that right away. Thanks
for understanding. Bye” Good, that’s all settled. Satisfied that
she could keep her secret from everyone, especially Jack. I’m sure
that he’d think I’m an idiot for writing all those sexy romance
novels. He with his William Butler Yeats and all the classics on
his shelf. Marsha won’t slip up. It’ll be so great to spend a
weekend with her. Maybe even get “Caribbean Fire” wrapped up and
ready for a ‘rewrite’ by then.

After tending to her email, Vicky returned to
the kitchen and looked at the clock, startled to see how late it
was. She took some steaks out of the freezer to thaw, and went to
the coffee pot and switched it on. Then she walked into the dining
room to inspect the table she had set for her guests.

A loud rapping came from the front door. The
planning meeting of the Pippen’s Grove book club was about to
begin. Vicky drew open the front door and pushed the screen door to
let in Diane balancing a pound cake and a laptop in her arms. Other
cars were pulling into the driveway.

“Hey.” she said, hugging Diane around the
cake. "Thanks for helping with the refreshments. That smells so
good. I can't wait to taste it."

On her way into the dining room Vicky
realized she hadn't considered what to make Jack for dessert.

Vicky and Diane chatted in the kitchen as
they arranged cookies and pound cake slices on plates. Everyone had
been served coffee in the dining room and Vicky had the second pot
chugging away. In addition to Diane, Penny was there along with
Carol. Three other friends of Diane’s from the Methodist church
were also present. In a moment, they'd get comfortable around the
big dining room table and make plans for the first meeting of their
book club.

Diane whispered to Vicky, “Isn’t it great
that so many showed up?”

“Yes.” She smiled as they carried plates of
cookies and cake in, setting them on the table. Pleased with her
efforts, she stepped back to admire her Nanna’s china and napkins
arranged on the table. In the center was a pretty cut glass bowl of
early flowers from her garden. A pitcher of lemonade and glasses
looked inviting next to another tray of cookies.

Diane breathed, “The table looks so great!
Your china and glassware are so pretty and the food looks so
good.”

Smiling, she said, “Aren’t they wonderful?
They were my grandmother’s things.”

Vicky returned to the kitchen, refilled her
coffee cup and turned back to join the others. Listening to the
laughter in the next room, she thought how reassuring it was to
have so many new friends. It'll be nice to have the book club and
the opportunity to exchange thoughts on good books.

Stepping into the dining room, she placed her
cup and saucer carefully beside her plate. Drawing out her chair
she looked up in surprise and gripped the back for support. Jack
was sitting nonchalantly across the table from her. Everyone was
passing plates and exclaiming over Diana’s pound cake and Penny’s
cookies. Sipping coffee from a dainty china cup with a small plate
heaped with cookies at his elbow, he looked perfectly at home.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

He smiled back disarmingly. “I’m here to help
with the book club planning, what else? Diane mentioned it to me
the other day, and here I am. Penny, these molasses cookies are
delicious,” he said, popping the remains of one into his mouth.

“Thanks, Jack.” She beamed, patting little
Charlotte’s back to encourage a burp. “Jimmy loves them too.”

“Vicky, didn’t Jack tell you he was coming
today?” Diane whispered. “Is something wrong?”

She eased herself into her chair. “Umm, No he
didn’t. This is a surprise. A very nice surprise,” she said smiling
sweetly at him. What’s he doing here?

“Harvesting will keep me busy, so I don’t
know if I’ll be able to make it to all of your meetings, but I’m
certainly interested in reading and improving my mind,” he said
innocently, looking directly across at her with an angelic
face.

Carol remarked, “I saw an article in The
Patriot about your farm stand. I think it’s great. You can’t have
too many sources of good local produce. I can remember when your
Uncle Charley sold stuff on the road years ago. When will it
open?”

“Our grand opening is next Tuesday,” said
Jack.

Giving Jack a hard look that he ignored,
Vicky said, "Everyone help yourselves to more cake and cookies.
Would anyone like more coffee?"

“No? Okay, let’s get started,” said Diane.
Frowning at her computer screen she began scrolling through her
calendar. “The first thing we need to decide on is when we want to
meet. I was thinking monthly.” After some discussion, everyone
agreed to meet afternoons on the first Saturday of the month.

Jack remained silent, happily munching his
way through his pile of cookies, then reaching for cake. He smiled
at her as she saw him slide two slices onto his plate.

Watching Jack across that table calmly
chewing was making her nervous. What’s he up to? She looked at him
intently. Maybe he just came for the cookies.

“Okay, so let’s see. Does anyone have
suggestions for book titles, or maybe you’ve got a favorite author
you’d want to share with everyone?” Diane made notes on her laptop
as suggestions were made. “This is great. We can vote on these
books at our meet and greet, August fifth.”

The girls began to discuss what kind of books
they liked and what books they’d read recently.

Noticing that the cookie platters now held
only a few crumbs, she reached for them. Giving Jack a meaningful
glance she said, “I’ll go fill these.” In a moment, she returned
and set down the platters.

“Would anyone like more coffee?” she asked.
They all politely refused the offer, except for Jack. He said he’d
love more coffee. Vicky sighed, took his cup, and vanished into the
kitchen. She stopped halfway to the coffee pot and slowly turned,
listening in horror to Carol.

“I’m not necessarily suggesting her books as
reading for this group, but has anyone ever read Tori Baxter?”

Penny turned to her exclaiming, “Oh my god. I
love her romance novels. Baxter is one of my all-time favorites.
That woman can write some hot sex!” Laughing she began an
exaggerated fanning motion to cool herself. “Sorry Jack. You didn’t
hear me say that.”

Jack wasn’t looking at Penny. He was studying
Vicky’s reaction as the women discussed Tori Baxter’s books. She
stood there pale and unmoving, coffee cup in hand, eyes wide and
staring.

Carol enthused, “Have you read her latest
one, about the fur trappers in the Rocky Mountains?”

“Yes! What’s it called? Rendezvous Romance?”
asked Penny

“That’s it,” Carol replied. “Talk about hot
and steamy! I call her Torrid Tori. She has the sexiest love
scenes. Those guys she writes about are so hot! She must have had
some incredible experiences with men, to write that stuff.”