“Yes,” she replied, dropping her hands to her side as if waiting for me to swoop down on her again.
I decided to change it up once more, to gauge her reaction. So I sat on the edge of my desk and gripped it with my hands as I let my gaze sweep over her, head to toe. “Come here and kiss me, Victoria.”
She blinked, unmoving for a few moments, before she finally put one heeled foot in front of the other and moved slowly toward me. She stopped in front of me, tilted her head up, and stood up on her tiptoes. The anticipation licked deliciously through me. I watched her cheeks flush, and her rosy lips get closer to mine. I stayed completely still, squashing my need to take over, and waited for her touch. Moments felt like hours, and when her tongue darted out and licked the seam of my lips seductively, I opened my mouth and willed her to end my suffering. Finally her mouth was on mine, teasing, testing, tasting, and I groaned my approval. Keeping my hands firmly on the desk, I let her control the kiss, and when she pulled away, I tapped down my frustration.
Victoria backed up, turned, and said, “Bye,” before walking back toward the door.
“Victoria,” I said softly, stopping her once more. “Tonight I’m with the guys, but tomorrow … I’m with you.” I wasn’t sure if it was a question or an order, but when she nodded simply in response, no protest, no argument, I knew that she wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with her.
Chapter 8 – Victoria
I pulled up to my parents’ house, still riding high on the emotions brought forth by Brock. First, he’d kissed me senseless, then he’d activated my shopping gene by showing me around his office and telling me his vision, and finally, the real kicker, had been when he’d challenged me to kiss him. I’d been nervous at first, but once I was standing before him, and I saw the way he was barely hanging on to his control as he gripped the desk, I’d felt something entirely different … Power. And when that big, sexy, confident man, had groaned against my lips, I’d nearly come undone.
So, as I entered my parent’s home feeling sexy, confident, and powerful, I realized that I’d been in a funk for far too long. It was time for me to come out of hiding, and start taking control of my life.
When I saw Brock the next night, I really needed to thank him for helping wake me up, by shaking up my life a bit.
“Victoria, darling,” Felicia, my step-mother, said as I entered her private rooms. My step-mother was the epitome of elegance and grace. As a child, I’d thought her a princess, but now, I just saw her as the woman I strived to become.
I air-kissed her cheeks in greeting and responded, “Felicia.”
When she pulled back she kept her hands on my shoulders, pausing to look in my eyes. Really look. Felicia had a way of reading people that was inherent; it made her a terrific saleswoman. In addition to being on boards, running charities, and being the yin to my father’s yang, Felicia ran a small art gallery in town. It was perfect for her.
“You look wonderful,” Felicia murmured as she kept her eyes on me. “Confident … I’m glad to see you’re back.”
Leave it to Felicia to realize my epiphany seconds after I had.
I just nodded and gave her a smile.
“Good,” she replied with a smile of her own. “What’s brought on this change, if I may ask?”
“I was offered a job,” I answered happily as she led us over to a small sitting area by a large bay window. “Interior decorating.”
Felicia nodded as she rang a small bell, indicating she needed service. Seconds later a small woman came in and Felicia turned to her with a smile. “Two teas, please.” The servant nodded and scurried back out of the room to get our drinks. Then Felicia turned back to me. “Interior decorating?” She paused a moment, nodded again. “That’s perfect. I wonder why we never thought of it before.”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Lord knows I love to shop,” I said with a quiet laugh. “And I did have a lot of fun decorating my condo, but I guess I never thought of it as being a viable career option.”
“Well, if you’re honest, you weren’t really looking for a career before,” Felicia stated bluntly. “You were with Scott, and you threw yourself into his career, and to becoming the perfect wife. Even when you started school, you never worked toward a career goal, you’ve always had tunnel vision where your future was concerned.” She patted my knee lightly and gave me a small smile, taking some of the sting out of her words. “I’m happy to see you doing something for yourself, and not just for a man.”
“But…” I began, before she cut me off.
“I know,” she began, her tone soft. “You’ve followed everything I taught you, everything I raised you to believe, but I have to say, Victoria, you took it to a level that I never meant you to.” When I turned to her, confused and hurt, she brought a hand to my cheek and continued, “You were so lost and confused when your father brought you to me. So worried that you would end up alone and depressed like your mother, so I taught you how to avoid that. But you have to understand, I never meant for you to lose yourself in the process. You’ve lived with your father and me, and you know that I do attend events, and do my best to be the perfect wife. Not only to the world, but behind closed doors as well … But, I hope you also know that I’m an independent woman. I always have been. And, my relationship with your father isn’t one-sided. He’s there for me as much as I am for him. But when I saw you with Scott, I began to realize that you’d somehow missed that part of our lessons, and you were living your life solely for him.” She brought her other hand up, cupping my face and forcing my eyes to stay on hers, when I would have rather averted my gaze so Felicia wouldn’t see the tears forming there. “When you guys broke off your engagement, I was relieved.”
My eyes widened with shock. “Relieved?”
“Yes,” she returned with a sad smile. “I wasn’t happy that you were hurt, or that you were embarrassed about having a broken engagement, but you and Scott weren’t good for each other, Victoria. I’d much rather see you the way you are today, happy about having a new job, looking confident and excited, than content with being on Scott’s arm and attending functions with his mother. And I think, if you dig real deep and are honest with yourself, you’ll find that you’d rather see yourself this way too.”
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Felicia winced a bit, then shrugged apologetically, “Because at first you were happy, and even though you had some set-backs in your relationship, you seemed determined to make your relationship work. I didn’t want to upset you. I wanted to support you.”
I understood what she was saying, but I needed to know I could count on the people I loved to be honest with me, so I said, “Next time, please, tell me your honest opinion. I won’t hold it against you.”
Felicia nodded as our tea was served. As it was prepared, I let Felicia’s words sink in.
It was true, that although they ran in the same circles, and Felicia was the perfect wife, she was very different from Scott’s mother, who was only concerned about impressing others and maneuvering people to get what she wanted. I guess I had allowed my identity to be sacrificed in order to become what I thought Scott wanted, someone like his mother. Because although he’d said he didn’t want to live the life his parents had, Scott had been following in their footsteps. I guess he’d finally realized it himself, and that’s why he’d broken it off with me, and done what he could to stop himself from following their path.
For the first time in months, I could think about the decisions Scott had made, and not hate him for breaking off our engagement.
“Are you okay?” Felicia asked gently, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I took the tea cup that she offered and replied, “Yes, I’m pretty great actually.”
We smiled at each other, and I could tell that Felicia was relieved that I wasn’t upset over what she said. We chatted about fashion and country club gossip for a while, then I stood to take my leave. Felicia saw me out, and as I drove
away from the beautiful home I’d been raised in, I made a quick decision and turned right to head toward my mother’s place.
A few minutes later, I’d left luxury and opulence behind, as I turned into the run-down trailer park where my mother and Abigail lived. I hadn’t been by to see my mother since Scott and I broke up, but I knew from Abigail that she had heard about it.
I took a deep breath, smoothed down my hair, and knocked briskly. I turned and looked around the trailer park while I waited. It had never been a pleasing area to live, but it was more an eyesore now than ever before.
I heard the slamming and banging of my mother moving through the trailer, and turned, bracing myself to see her again.
The door flung open with a grunt, and my mother spat out, “What do you …. Oh, it’s you.” She turned and walked away, leaving the door open, which I took as an invitation to enter. She was wearing an old, neck-to-floor dressing gown, which hung in an unflattering drape as she flung herself onto the couch. Her long brown hair was the same shade as mine, but was dry and ratted. It looked like she hadn’t run a brush through it in weeks. She picked up a cigarette, tapped it against the palm of her hand, then placed it in her lips, scowling at me as she lit it.
“To what do we owe the honor, princess?” my mother asked gruffly as she took a drag, leaning back on the couch and propping her legs up on her scuffed and worn coffee table.
“I just wanted to see how you are, and to speak with Abigail,” I replied, keeping my hands clasped so she wouldn’t see them shake.
“She’s in her room,” she replied, thrusting her head toward the back room.
I turned slowly and walked purposefully toward Abigail’s room, so my mother wouldn’t know that I was eager to get away from her as quickly as possible.
I shoved the door open and closed it behind me, leaning my back against the door and closing my eyes to regain my composure. I took a deep breath, then opened my eyes, giving them a minute to adjust to the darkness, before looking around and finding Abigail snoring softly in her bed.
I huffed out a breath in exasperation, turned on the light, and walked over to fling the covers off of her.
“Get up, Abigail,” I said loudly. “It’s almost two o’clock in the afternoon!”
Abigail moaned and pulled her pillow over her head, so I reached down and grabbed it, throwing it across the room.
“Hey!” she yelled, trying to cover her head with her arms to keep the light out.
“Get up,” I shouted, pushing her shoulders.
“What the hell?” Abigail asked angrily as she pushed herself up on to her forearms and glared at me. “What are you doing?”
“I came by to see you,” I said calmly, as if I hadn’t just been acting immaturely.
“Well, you’ve seen me … now go away,” Abigail threw herself back onto the bed and tried to burrow her face into the sheets.
“Why did you tell Brock to come to my yoga class?” I asked softly as I sat down on the bed next to her.
Abigail turned her head and looked up at me curiously, “Brendan’s hot brother? He showed?”
I nodded and she flashed a huge grin at me.
“Awesome.”
“You’ve never done something like that with another guys,” I prodded. “So why him?”
Abigail stretched gracefully, then came up to sit cross-legged on the bed, brushing her fingers through her short hair as she shrugged, “For one, he’s hot. And you could use a little hot. Two, he seemed really interested, and you’ve been moping around since Scott, so I thought … what could it hurt.” She peered at me through her long lashes as she stifled a yawn. “You mad?”
“No,” I responded with a small smile. “He is hot, and nice. And, he’s given me a job.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’m going to decorate his offices at work,” I said shyly.
“That’s great!” Abigail responded with a grin, then leaned over to shove me with her shoulder. “I thought he was just looking to get laid.”
I laughed with her, but didn’t respond, then I stood and said, ”I’ll let you get back to bed, but we really need to meet up for dinner sometime soon.”
“Sounds good,” she replied, and as I turned out the light, I smiled as she snuggled back into the bed, pulling her comforter tightly around her.
My smile quickly faded when I shut the door and found my mother sitting across the room, glaring at me.
“Heard that snooty guy of yours called of the wedding,” she said cruelly with a smirk. “Looks like you got what was coming to you … Always actin’ so much better than everyone else.”
I choked back tears and embarrassment as her words hit me like daggers. She’d always known how to hurt me the most. I tried not to let her see the effect of her words, and held my head high as I made my way to the front door, suddenly needing to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Vicky,” my mother called when I had my hand on the doorknob, and even though I knew I should just walk out, I could never ignore my mother. That had always been one of my downfalls. “Once you realize that men are good for nothing but cock and heartache, you’ll be much happier.”
I flinched at her crass words, but turned to meet her violet gaze with my own, and asked, “Like you are, Mother?” Then I turned and shut the door softly behind me.
I took another deep breath, trying to cleanse my soul of the hatefulness that always seemed to be rooted in that house. One good thing about seeing my mother again today was that she reminded me of what I never wanted to become. A lonely, angry, and miserable woman, who’d been chewed up and spit out by love. I needed to think of her every time I felt Brock getting too close, and remind myself that I kept a fortress around my heart for a very good reason.
Chapter 9 – Brock
“Thanks for helping out, Bren,” I said to my youngest brother as he put the finishing touches on some sort of mini BLT sandwiches, Buffalo Chicken Dip, and little cups of whiskey bread pudding.
“No prob,” he said softly without looking up. He was in his second year of culinary school, and when I’d mentioned poker night, he’d jumped at the chance to cook for a group, even if it was just snacks and stuff. I’d still picked up the pizza and some beer, since he’d had school today, and had stayed up late last night writing lyrics.
As the originator, and lead singer of Whiskey Heat, Brendan took the music a lot more seriously than Brady and I did. We played because we loved the feeling that came from making music together. It seemed to bring us even closer than we already were, which was saying a lot. But for Brendan, music was life. He lived and breathed it. He even looked the part, with his long hair, skinny jeans, and the occasional use of makeup and nail polish. I didn’t always understand my brother, but I loved him more than I could ever express.
I left him to do his thing, stopping in the living room to put on Pandora Radio, before going to set up the table. Once I cleared all of the mail, magazines, and change off of the table and shoved it all into a drawer, I grabbed a beer and put on a game, deciding to relax until the guys showed up.
“W’sup?” Brady called in greeting as he let himself into the house. I tipped my beer to him in response, then turned my eyes back to the game. A few moments later, he eased himself into the recliner next to mine, a beer in one hand and a mini BLT sandwich in the other.
We were both shouting at the TV when my doorbell chimed. I rose to answer it, one eye still on the TV, and grunted in greeting to TJ, who stood grinning on my stoop with a twelve-pack of beer. I left the door open and indicated he should follow, then swore when I returned to the living room to see a commercial on TV.
“What’d I miss?” I asked Brady with a scowl.
“They botched it,” was his reply.
I swore under my breath, then turned around to see TJ had followed me in.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” I said offhandedly, reaching out to clap him on the shoulder. “Good to see you.”
“You too,” TJ sa
id good-naturedly. “You want this in the fridge?”
I nodded, then headed back toward the door when a knock sounded.
This time when I opened the door, I was greeted by the matching grins belonging to Cal and his younger brother Craig.
Cal, TJ, and I went back a ways. Back to the days before I opened my painting business, and was working odd jobs whenever I could. But I’d only met Craig recently. He was a good ten years younger than me, so it wasn’t until I started attending poker night that I had a reason to meet him. He was a great kid. An amazing baseball player, decent at cards, and all-around good dude. I grinned back at them and ushered them inside.
Brady and TJ were chatting and sipping their beers, so I asked Cal and Craig if they wanted anything.
“I’ll take a beer,” Cal said.
“Water works for me,” Craig added.
I left the guys in the living room and went to the kitchen to get the drinks. All of the food was laid out along the buffet, and Brendan was washing the last of the dishes.
“That everyone?” he asked.
“Everyone but Scott,” I replied from the fridge. Just then the doorbell rang. “That should be him.”
I heard Brady and Scott talking at the door as I took the drinks out to Cal and Craig.
“We can move this little party to the dining room, if you guys are ready to play,” I said to the room in general. The guys all started to get up and move into the other room, and I walked over to where Scott was just entering.
“Hey,” I said in greeting, “want a beer?”
“Hi, thanks for letting us take over your house tonight,” Scott said with a smile. He was still in his suit, so must have come straight from work. He shrugged out of his jacket and added, “Yeah, I’d love a beer.”
“Here,” I said gesturing toward the hall closet. “You can hang that up here if you want.”
“Thanks.”