Luxury Model Wife (3 page)

When he’d first heard about James’s young second wife, he assumed, like everyone else, that the bride was a gold-digger who’d lured a vulnerable older man into marriage for money. The compassion he found in Victoria’s deep brown eyes made him sorry he’d prejudged her. Her manner was straightforward, her intentions sounded honorable, and her sincerity appeared genuine. She was smart, savvy, and seemed capable. Everything about her was appealing.

Victoria Van Orr was the sexiest, most beautiful woman he’d ever met. She’d knocked him completely off balance in every sense, but he had to keep it together and remain professional.

Her prim, tailored suit and silk blouse made him want to pull off her jacket and slide the buttons of her blouse between his fingers. He wanted to unbind the bun at the nape of her neck and let her hair down.

Her dark hair was tied in a fancy twist and she wore demure pink lipstick that couldn’t diminish the pout of her kissable lips. Only the beauty mark at the tip of a perfectly arched brow hinted at the exotic. He imagined her long waves of black hair caressing her shoulders. Red lipstick. White lingerie. The way James must have seen her at night by candlelight.

Steve shook away the images before he embarrassed himself.

Victoria appeared poised, but there was an undercurrent of something he couldn’t name beneath her polished, upscale exterior. Yet there was nothing calculated about her, either. She seemed too…bruised. And not just because her husband had died. There was more to the mystery than that.

What deeper qualities, he wondered, had led the proper billionaire to marry outside his social circle? If James Van Orr had made a successful marriage to Victoria there had to be more to her than her looks. James was a stickler for loyalty and character and was never wrong in his assessments.

Steve got down to business. “Your terms are unusual. Typically, our consignments are contracted on a commission basis and we handle all the details.” His business sense told him to dismiss her proposal out of hand. Carlson’s had never arranged liquidation the way Victoria proposed. Hands-on sales with emotional strings presented a minefield of obstacles.

It could be done, but working too closely with a client could get sticky. Disagreements over pricing might cause friction, as could anemic sales or accidental damage. He’d be blamed if anything went wrong, and he’d already screwed up the dynamics between their families years ago. If Victoria weren’t a Van Orr, and he and his father hadn’t had lifelong ties with her late husband, Steve wouldn’t even consider her suggestion.

There were other, more serious hurdles to her proposition. Like Jimmy Van Orr. Aligning with Victoria would be like throwing fireworks at a hornet nest. Clearly, she had no idea the junior Van Orr wanted Steve dead. Or that they’d once been like brothers. Despite his repeated attempts to make amends, his former best friend continued to shut him down.

Steve let out an involuntary groan when he shifted in his seat, asking the question to which he already knew the answer. “Has Jimmy agreed to a business arrangement with Carlson’s?”

The renewed tension around Victoria’s mouth told him all he needed to know. “It’s what James would have wanted. Jimmy is free to offer his opinion.”

Steve knew how Jimmy could turn an opinion into a battle, but kept that part to himself. He cleared his throat. “I need to be straight with you. Jimmy is no fan of mine.”

Hated his guts was more like it.

Victoria waved a hand in dismissal. “That makes two of us.”

Steve still wasn’t convinced. “Jimmy is a respected physician in town. He’s a powerful man who has interests in his father’s estate. Are you sure you want to go head to head with him by choosing Carlson’s? An agreement with Pinnacle will appease Jimmy and I know they’ll bring you fair prices.”

The flash of determination in her eyes let him know he’d stepped on another mine.

She half stood as she leaned forward. “Pinnacle wants to auction a portion of James’s estate at a flea market.
Flea market
.” Her jaw clenched and high color burst across her cheeks. “Can’t I make you men understand it’s not about the damned money?”

Interesting. The Van Orrs were the oldest money in West Chester. He had to admit, he liked the respect she demanded regarding the dissolution of her husband’s estate.

Correction.
Late
husband.

Steve could understand not lusting after money, despite having new money of his own. He and a buddy had developed a cell phone app for antiques appraisals that promised to make them a fortune. If he wanted, he could retire at the ripe old age of thirty and join the Van Orrs’ country club. That wouldn’t happen, though. He loved his work and hated golf. Tennis too. Football and basketball were more his style.

Victoria stared back and lifted her exotic brow, clearly waiting for him to stop thinking and start talking.

He couldn’t resist a smile. Why not take the job? If for no other reason, it would be fun to watch Jimmy go ballistic.

“Shall I take that smile as a
yes
?” she asked. Her beautiful dark eyes lit for the first time since she’d entered his store.

Steve eased back into his chair. It had been years since he’d visited the Van Orr estate. It would be nice to see the old place again. Maybe he could mend fences with that knucklehead Jimmy after the initial, inevitable blowout. He might get it through his old friend’s thick head that he regretted what he’d done. That he wasn’t a screw-up. At least not anymore. He wanted the chance to prove he’d changed.

His actions had caused havoc between the families, and the chance to make things right stared back from the other side of his desk. With careful handling, the Van Orrs and the Carlsons could be reunited. He owed his dad that much and more.

When Steve looked up, he gazed into Victoria Van Orr’s lovely, expectant face. She took another sip of wine and touched her tongue to her bottom lip.

He tracked the movement and knew by the way his pulse raced that he’d do whatever the hell this woman wanted.

*****

Despite his hesitation, Victoria noted the spark of interest behind Steve’s stunning blue eyes. She knew the approximate value of James’s pieces and was offering Carlson the chance to earn huge commissions. His father had turned a profit during the initial antiques sales to her husband, and there was considerable revenue to be made by reselling the same items at their increased value without having to repurchase them. This was a lucrative business opportunity for Mr. Carlson and Victoria knew it.

“I’ll offer you the standard rate of commission, plus bonus opportunities,” she said. Steve Carlson might have fooled her at first glance, but he was clearly a smart businessman beneath his casual tee shirt and mall-store jeans.

He shook his head and held up his hand like a stop sign, surprising her again. “No need for bonuses. And we’ll offer a discount on the commission. We’re glad to help. Dad and I owe James a lot.”

Steve came around his desk to shake her hand. “As long as there are no legal restrictions to a consignment with our store, I’m sure we can make the arrangements you have in mind. You’ll work with me and Beverly, our full-time restoration expert. She’s in her studio. I’ll introduce you.”

He returned to his chair and drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I think we should also sell some of the estate pieces by consignment in the shop. As you probably know, we have an impressive list of clients, including celebrities from those reality TV home-makeover shows everyone seems to watch.”

Victoria stifled a satisfied grin. Odd, though—money didn’t seem to be Carlson’s motivation for helping her. His interest in her family seemed to steer his decision.

She’d obviously made the right choice by coming here.

But what had happened between him and Jimmy? That was something she needed to know. She had to protect the estate from the potential fallout from an old grudge.

*****

Steve snapped his fingers. “Here’s a thought.” The concept struck him like a thunderbolt and his enthusiasm for the deal took a new turn.

“With my dad and me opening a second store, traveling, and overseeing the day-to-day operations, time is at a premium. Since your priority seems to be hands-on sales, would you consider working with us on a co-op basis? Beverly usually waits on our customers, but with our expanding inventory she’s stretched to her limit with restoration projects. She—we—could really use your help.”

When Victoria didn’t pale at the suggestion, he continued. “I’ll give you floor space inside the store to sell a portion of your estate items, consignment-free, in exchange for managing the place. We can work out a mutually convenient schedule. That’s about as hands-on an offer as you’ll get.”

He stopped talking, suddenly worried he’d insulted her. Why would a wealthy Van Orr want to work in an antiques shop—even one as well-respected as his? It had to be beneath her.

Too late
. He’d already made the offer and he could only hope she wouldn’t storm from the room. He’d have two Van Orrs mad at him then.

He cleared his throat. “Does that sound like something you’d consider?”

Victoria hesitated, her furrowed brow creating short double lines above her beautiful nose. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip and Steve found himself staring at her mouth. He glanced away before he looked like a freak.

When she spoke again, her voice held none of the contempt Steve expected. His guard dropped a little.

“To be honest, James’s house seems to grow larger every day. It was hardly built for one.” She nodded to the open doorway, and the shop on the other side. “Your store is wonderful.”

“Thanks.” Its beauty embodied the blood and guts of the Carlson men, earned by endless hours of hard work, sweat, and worry. But he didn’t say so out loud.

Victoria turned back to him. “I assume our conversation will be held in strictest confidence?”

“Of course. Our business dealings, contracts, and discussions are private. I would never breach your trust.”

She studied him a moment, as if deciding whether or not to believe him. The back of his neck prickled with the realization she might have serious trust issues—and maybe with good reason. He braced himself for her rebuff.

She shifted in her chair, and when she leaned forward the slightest bit, Steve found himself leaning forward, too. His pulse kicked up a notch while he waited for her decision.

Victoria spoke, though more softly than before. “I’m ready to rejoin the world, though I hardly know where my place is these days. I’d love to work here while I figure that out.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say, but her humility bowled him over. “You would?” Steve was so surprised he began to backpedal. “Jimmy will hate the idea.”

Kill me, is more like it.

But Victoria only smiled. “You offered a solution to both of our problems. With James gone, I need to get out of the house for something besides volunteer work and hair appointments. The change will do me good.”

She reached again for her wine glass. “Forgive me for asking, but if we’re going to be working together, I’d like to know why you and Jimmy are estranged. He won’t discuss it. All I know is that you were friends once.”

Steve winced. His falling out with Jimmy had been the result of the worst mistake of his life. He really didn’t want to talk about it, but withholding information about their relationship didn’t feel right, either. Victoria didn’t need to know the intimate details. That was personal and way too embarrassing.

Better to clear the air with the bigger picture. “We grew up together, like brothers, all the way through college, then med school.”

“You were in medical school?”

He nodded and then blew out a long breath for courage. “If we’re going to exhume my past we should at least have a second glass of wine.” He waited while she watched him—weighing, deciding. This woman was smart.

“That sounds fair.” Her smile seemed more relaxed.

He smiled back, went to the sideboard for the bottle, and topped off their glasses. He took another deep breath, let it out slowly then gulped a mouthful of wine, suddenly wishing for something stronger.

What the hell. It happened a long time ago.

“I blew my medical career when one too many parties caught up with me and I washed out of medical school. Jimmy tried to keep me straight, but the truth is…I wasn’t cut out to be a doctor. I realized that after my first year. My mom hoped I’d follow her footsteps and become a surgeon. Jimmy and I had planned to start a practice together. They were both furious when I walked away from medicine.”

Steve took a sip of his wine and returned the glass to his desktop, shaking off memories of the self-hatred that followed. “Dad, on the other hand, understood. He has zero interest in medicine unless it relates to my mother. When I screwed up at the hospital, he asked me to join him in the antiques business. It took a stint in the military to decide whether to accept his partnership.”

He gestured outside the door. “Since my temperament is better suited to antiques history than surgery, I agreed. Joining Carlson’s is the best decision I ever made.”

Victoria shook her head. “But why is there bad blood between you and Jimmy?”

“The usual reason.” Steve picked up a pen, rolled it between his fingers, and tapped the desk. “A woman.” He looked up with a shrug of apology.

Victoria smirked and crossed her slim legs at the knees. He followed the curve of her calf and the shape of her ankle as she changed position in the chair. “Knowing Jimmy, that sounds about right.”

A knock then an oval face and the tips of four fingers peeked around the door’s oak moldings. “Yoo-hoo, anybody home?”

“C’mon in, Beverly.”

Beverly Orange stepped inside Steve’s office with yards of filmy Indian gauze fluttering around her feet.

Steve made the introductions and the women exchanged greetings. The restoration expert remained firmly planted in 1968 despite the new millennium—and Steve wouldn’t change a thing about her if he could. “I was hoping you’d stop by to meet Victoria.”