Luxury Model Wife (13 page)

Victoria didn’t embarrass easily, but blood pounded in her ears under the other woman’s scrutiny.

Beverly eyed Victoria’s creased blouse. “Don’t need to be psychic to know what’s been going on in here,” she said with a laugh. “Sorry to barge in.” She looked over at Steve. “I wasn’t sure what time you were leaving for Boston.”

“Yeah, gotta get going.”

Beverly glanced from her boss to Victoria and cleared her throat. “Well, congratulations, you two. All I can say is I predicted you’d get together. I’m sensitive, after all.”

“As a rhinoceros,” Steve shot back with a smirk.

Beverly rolled her eyes. “Before you head to Bean Town, you have a visitor who wants to talk to you. Carlos Vega, the other half of your competition at Pinnacle, is here.”

Victoria’s body went rigid. “I’ll go with you. It’s my consignment he’s angry about.” She brushed a hand down her clothes to smooth them and followed Steve through the open doorway.

Chapter Eight

“Carlos. What can I do for you, man?” Steve said.

Victoria watched as Carlos Vega stood at the birdcage with Pirate. “
Encantado. ¿Que tal?
” he said to the cockatiel. Pirate made a great show of ignoring him and closing his eyes.

The wiry antiques dealer tried again. “
Encantado. ¿Que tal?
”

When Pirate continued to shut him out, Vega sighed. “I said, ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. How are you?’ I tried to teach him the phrase when I visited Mrs. Van Orr’s house. He still doesn’t want to speak Spanish.”

Steve held out his hand. Victoria stayed in the background to listen. Carlos hesitated, then pumped Steve’s arm with a quick handshake. “That bird doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He pouted and inclined his head in Victoria’s direction. “
Hola,
Mrs. Van Orr.”

Victoria nodded a greeting. “I’m sure it’s nothing personal, Mr. Vega.”

Carlos glared back with flat, dark eyes. Any pretext of a social visit disappeared. “Everything is personal, Mrs. Van Orr.”

Unease filled Victoria, putting her on the defensive—an emotional state she detested.

He stepped closer to the cage and pointed. “This bird makes no bones about who he likes and who he wants to deal with. Not everyone is like that.”

Carlos leveled a stare at Victoria that sent ice water down her back. His voice remained low. “Some people pretend one thing, and then do another. That is never a good idea. It hurts feelings and causes trouble. Big trouble.”

“Spit it out, Vega.” Steve’s jaw clenched and his hands tightened into fists. He seemed to resist punching the other man’s face by sheer force of will. “What do you want?”

Carlos turned and looked coolly at Steve. “You insulted my partner. His feelings are hurt, and that distresses me greatly.”

“Bullshit,” Steve shot back. “This is about money. Mitchell was hoping I’d offer him the Lydia Van Orr doll collection at wholesale before the items went public. He’d keep what he wanted and sell off the rest at a profit to
my
customers who missed out. Everyone in town, and the trade, knows the Van Orr estate goods were consigned to Carlson’s.”

“Bruce
deserves
to have that collection.” Vega thrust out his jaw. “To him, it means more than it ever could to someone else.”

Victoria stepped in, hoping to smooth things over. “Mr. Vega, maybe we can find an amicable solution to this…misunderstanding.” She kept her tone reasonable, despite the agitation she felt. “Let’s try to work something out.”

Vega’s eyes closed to glittering slits and his voice turned hard. He pointed a finger. “I thought we had an agreement, lady. I should have made you sign papers.”

Victoria bristled. “No one
makes
me do anything, Mr. Vega. And I never promised I’d give you my business.”

Carlos didn’t have a chance to say another word because Steve reached out and grabbed him by the throat. His other hand twisted the front of Vega’s shirt while he lifted the smaller man onto his toes. “Apologize to Mrs. Van Orr.”

“Fuck you both.”

Steve tossed Vega backwards against the front wall. The glass in the main door rattled with the reverberations and Victoria caught her breath.

Carlos bounced off the wallboard and stumbled, his feet crisscrossing and flailing as he tried to right himself. When he regained his balance, he flew at Steve, but stopped short of fighting back. His features contorted with humiliation and rage.

He spoke between his small, uneven teeth. “You’d better watch your back, Carlson.” He turned to Pirate. “And fuck you too, bird.” Carlos made his way to the door and slammed it closed behind him.

“Shit.” Steve ran a hand through his hair and cradled the back of his head. “That didn’t go so well.”

Victoria shouted, “Who does that little creep think he is, to threaten us? We should go to the police.”

“I doubt they can do anything, but I’ll stop at the station on my way out of town to file a complaint. Let’s just hope Carlos doesn’t file an assault charge first.” His expression remained tight. “When I get back from Boston I’ll pay Jimmy that visit I promised. He can make this problem disappear.”

“You think he’s behind the harassment?”

“We’d better find out.” Steve reached for Victoria and hugged her close.

The strength of his body put a stop to her trembling. Victoria hated confrontation of any kind and often experienced a physical reaction to violence. She’d taken boxing lessons in college to fight against her fear.

Steve planted a kiss on her cheek. “Better now?”

He nuzzled her ear until she relaxed. Victoria sighed. “Yes.”

“I’ve known Bruce Mitchell and Carlos Vega a long time,” he said. “Their bark is usually worse than their bite. If I thought for one minute either of them would hurt you, I’d crush the life out of them. But to be on the safe side, I’ll cancel my business trip.”

Victoria looked up at him. “No way. We can’t let them control us.” She patted his chest. “Go. I’ll see you in a few days. Beverly and I will keep each other company.”

“You sure?” He didn’t look convinced.

“I’ve faced worse than this. What can they possibly do?” She gave him a kiss. Steve pulled her into his arms, deepened the kiss, and then whispered against her ear. “Next time we’re together, you’ll be wearing your new boots.” A deep rumble issued from his throat. “I’ll try not to think about you wearing them, and nothing else, while I drive. I might wreck my car.”

Victoria pressed the length of her body against his and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Country boys are
sooo
hot.”

“You don’t know the half of it, darlin’,” he teased. “But I can hardly wait to show you.” He swiped the tip of his tongue along the fullness of her bottom lip and kissed her again.

“See you Saturday night,” he whispered against her mouth.

She ran her hands over his incredible butt. “I’ll be ready,” she promised.

*****

Victoria had just finished pressing her blouse in Beverly’s studio and returned to the shop when an imposing man in a blue suit and tie lumbered into the store. The subtle threat he posed with his pro-football size dissolved, though, when he opened his mouth to speak. The tension in Victoria’s muscles relaxed.

“Excude me,” he sniffled. “I’m lost. Can you dell me how to get to the airport?” He pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose.

Victoria mentally calculated the three-day incubation period between exposure to a head cold and the onset of symptoms.
Damn.
She hoped the visitor didn’t infect her and ruin her first date with Steve.

The dairy cows and grazing horses would have been dead giveaways to most people that there was no international airport in this town, but she was too polite to say so. She figured that with this guy’s head cold, he wasn’t thinking straight.

“You’ve driven forty miles east on the highway you should have taken west. You’ll have to backtrack.” She pointed the way to Philadelphia and gave directions.

Didn’t this guy have GPS?

“Can I use your phone? I have to call my hotel.”

Victoria sighed.
No GPS or cell phone?
She handed him the store phone with a mental note to disinfect it when he finished, and moved away to give him privacy.

“Well, thanks,” he said, finishing his call. He coughed again and set the phone back on the counter. “I guess what they say about you is true. You’re a generous woman.”

He made direct eye contact for the first time, and the soullessness she saw in their depths almost stopped her heart. “Victoria, right?” When he smiled, her skin prickled.

Victoria didn’t know who this man was, or who sent him, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he scared her. She squared her shoulders and tightened her jaw. “Get out, now, before I call the police.”

Suddenly, the studio door flung wide and Beverly charged into the room. “What’s going on?” She glanced at Victoria, glared at the man, then lifted the cell phone she held in her hand. “You heard her.”

The smirk on his face dissolved into innocence. “There’s no crime in asking for directions.” He strolled to the door and on his way, swept a display of antique books to the floor. He slammed the door behind him.

Pirate screeched in agitation. The cockatiel leaped in his cage from perch to tree branch and squawked.

Beverly touched Victoria’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Victoria nodded. She’d survived worse intimidation. “Have you ever seen him before?”

Beverly shook her head. “No.” She lifted the books off the floor and returned them to the display table. “Maybe I should call Steve.”

“Please don’t.” Victoria had a deep-seated need for safety and security, but she’d also learned self-reliance. She might have let James cloak her in protection during their marriage, but that’s the last thing she wanted in her budding relationship with Steve. With him, she had the chance to start over in an equal relationship. “I’m fine.” She tucked her shaking hands behind her back and forced a joke. “Our biggest threat is the germs Mr. Robitussin left behind.”

Beverly made a face. “Be back in two shakes.”

She returned with a large can of disinfectant and two pairs of plastic gloves. Beverly sprayed the room while Victoria cleaned the telephone and countertops.

Beverly’s bangles rattled and her bottom jiggled beneath her peasant skirt while she shot disinfectant into the air. “This store attracts all kinds of eccentric people.”

Victoria smiled. “I don’t know if that makes us comedy or tragedy.”

Beverly snorted. “Depends on the day.” She eyed Victoria’s freshly pressed blouse. “Yours definitely had a bright spot.”

“Steve wore my defenses down.” A stab of guilt chased the pleasure that filled her. “Do you think James would understand? I still love him, you know, even in death. Caring about Steve won’t change that.”

Beverly moved closer. “I don’t think anyone expects you to forget your love for James. Being a Van Orr is what brought you and Steve together.”

“True. Good or bad, everything in my life has led me to this point.”

Beverly threw away her dirty gloves. “And now you’ve met another terrific guy. You’ve got great taste in men, I’ll grant you that. Considering the example your mother set, that’s pretty amazing.”

Victoria peeled off her gloves and tossed them into the trash with Beverly’s. “I’ve only had two lovers, and both were older men. Suddenly, I’ve become attracted to this incredibly sexy guy my own age. Any theories?”

“Other than the fact that Steve’s gorgeous, financially secure, and available? Why wouldn’t you be attracted?” Beverly toyed with one of the rings on her hand. “I’m no therapist, but if I had to guess, I’d say you’re working through your security issues. You’ve matured. You’re rich and beautiful and stronger than you give yourself credit for. Maybe you’re beginning to see that.” She gave a little laugh. “In any case, girlfriend, you’re a magnet for sexy, successful men. I should hate you.”

“I’m glad you don’t.” Victoria reached behind the counter for her purse. “On that note, let me buy you lunch. I’ll even pick up. Hopefully, no weirdoes will bother you while I’m gone.”

Beverly sighed. “With my luck a busload of tourists will stop on their way to the smorgasbord, spend five dollars, then line up for the bathroom.”

Victoria patted Beverly on the back. “Back in twenty minutes with food.”

*****

Rocco’s Pub was alive with office workers crowding the oversized bar for a quick drink. Shoppers waited for tables and retailers hovered by the busy takeout counter. The tangy scents of barbeque sauce, hamburger grease, and fried onions filled the air.

Chatter mingled with the snap and sizzle sounds from the kitchen and the tinkling of glasses behind the packed bar. A curvy blonde barmaid poured drinks with rapid precision while wait staff sailed through the dimly lit room, holding order pads or trays filled with food.

Victoria added two bottles of wine coolers to the bag of sandwiches and fries she carried, and shifted the parcel in the crook of her arm. She fumbled through her purse to pay the cashier.

When she turned to go, a familiar voice in the bar stiffened her spine. She turned and, to her dismay, spotted Mr. Robitussin. A bottle of beer faced him on the bar. He spoke into a cell phone, and when he looked up he seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

Mr. Robitussin dropped the phone into his pocket, and shot her a nasty grin. All pretense of civility evaporated when he lifted his beer in a mock salute. He pumped his hand over the length of the bottle in a crude gesture and then waggled his tongue at her and laughed.

Victoria’s heart pounded and a cold shiver ran over her skin as she fought off her revulsion. Who was this horrible man, and what did he want from her?

His laughter brought a series of deep, loose coughs, which he covered with a handkerchief pulled from his jacket pocket.

Victoria rushed from the takeout area to the front of the restaurant with her head down, her face obscured by the brown paper bag she carried.

Since childhood, she’d been able to adopt a neutral expression at will, making her unbeatable at poker as an adult. Years of domestic violence, squalor, and the lack of privacy in homeless shelters before she was fostered had taught her how to become invisible. The cosmetics trade had taught her allure.