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Victoria
Four days had passed since Victoria’s confrontation with Henry. She paced her bedroom floor, her anger boiling. How he could possibly think that I’d be impressed with a token bouquet of flowers? Some women may have been won over by the gesture, but not her. How dare he think he could buy her forgiveness.
Arrogant jackass! It was his own damn fault if his feelings had gotten hurt—if he had any feelings at all. Remembering his saddened expression, Victoria assumed he’d probably perfected it along with every other underhanded tactic he’d tried to use to impress her. She doubted anyone knew the real Henrique Santana. All the world knew was his calculated façade.
Victoria picked up the hairbrush from the vanity and used it to sweep her damp hair from her face. She winced as the brush ripped through a small tangle. Staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror, she fastened the rhinestone clip to secure her unruly locks into a French twist and played with the few remaining tendrils framing her face, not particularly happy with their lack of cooperation.
Applying the second coat of black mascara, she decided that she’d start wearing her contacts on a regular basis. It had been a pleasant surprise to uncover the brand-new box of contacts that had been collecting dust while tucked into the back of her medicine cabinet. Without the oversized tortoiseshell frames, Victoria thought she looked much younger.
Turning her attention to the evening gown that lay on her bed, she questioned how she’d fallen into such a rut. She’d grown careless with her appearance. The shopping trips to New York and Boston that she and Jenn adored had become nonexistent. She’d lost a part of herself during her relationship with David. Easing her fingers over the velvet fabric of the gown, Victoria vowed to stop wasting her youth. She was a young and single professional woman. It was time she started acting like it.
When she’d seen the burgundy halter dress draped on the mannequin in the department store’s window display, Victoria couldn’t resist trying it on. She’d felt glamorous as she twisted and turned before the dress shop’s four-way mirror. The fabric molded to her curves in all the right places, and the gown’s rich, dark color created a striking contrast to the paleness of her skin. Feeling sexy and desirable, Victoria pulled out her credit card and splurged on the expensive gown. What difference did it make? David was no longer around to crucify her over the outlandish price tag.
Flexing her newly pedicured toes, Victoria slid their red tips into the sky-high stilettos and struck a model’s pose before the full-length mirror. Jenn’s going to be green with envy when she sees these.
The doorbell rang.
Speak of the devil, Victoria thought, feeling like a goddess as she glided toward the door. Smiling broadly, she opened it.
“Holy shit! Where did you get those shoes? They’re fantastic,” Jennifer exclaimed.
“They are, aren’t they?” Victoria pointed her toe and then swirled her foot around in the air to show off her new, glittery gold shoes.
“You look amazing, Vicki. Absolutely beautiful.”
“Do I?” Victoria asked, feigning ignorance.
“You know you do,” Jennifer said. “Good thing I already have a man because with you around, hot stuff, not one of those rich, eligible guys at the gala will notice me.”
Victoria squealed. Literally squealed with delight as she preened. “I haven’t felt pretty in so long,” she admitted shyly.
“You’re making up for lost time now, honey. Get your coat, hot mama. We have a ball to attend.”
Victoria extended a military salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
One mansion after another lined the narrow street, each lawn flawlessly manicured and sporting one or more luxury vehicles on its driveway. “We’re here.” Victoria pulled her Toyota toward the massive, black wrought iron gates and rolled down the car’s window to speak with the parking attendant.
“Looking spiffy, Charlie.” Jennifer winked from the passenger’s seat. A blush, which Victoria was sure could not be blamed on the cold, graced the attendant’s cheeks.
“Thank you, Jennifer. It always makes me happy to see two such lovely ladies,” Charlie said.
“Hi, Charlie.” Victoria smiled at the middle-aged gentleman.
Victoria’s eyes darted around looking for a parking spot near the entrance as the Toyota rolled its way down the long, gravel path. “You’ll break his heart. He thinks you are interested in him.”
Jennifer made a dismissive sound and shrugged her shoulders. “Just being friendly.”
“He’s old enough to be your father,” Victoria scolded.
“Good. Maybe I won’t have to teach Charlie any tricks.”
“Jenn!” Victoria giggled. “You’re wicked.”
“I know.” Jennifer sported a devious grin as she glanced at Victoria. “That’s why Andre adores me.”
“Poor Andre. You’re a lot for him to manage.”
“He never complains about how I manage him.” Jennifer winked. “In fact, he rather enjoys it.”
The wheels of the car ground over the gravel pathway as Victoria turned the steering wheel. “I’m glad the two of you resolved your differences.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
Victoria maneuvered the vehicle into the nearest parking place. “Sorry. It looks like we’ll have to walk a bit.”
*****
VICTORIA MARVELED, her eyes moving to the ornate foyer. “They’ve outdone themselves this year.” The winding staircase, popularly used as a background in wedding photography, was draped with dark green garland inlaid with minuscule, white, glistening lights. Red and white poinsettias lined the length of the bright red rug that covered each of the stairs.
Suspended from the ceiling hung an enormous evergreen kissing ball adorned with small purple and silver round ornaments. It also was inlaid with the tiny, white lights. In the corner of the room stood a gargantuan Christmas tree. Its long limbs twinkled with matching purple and silver decorations. An angel dressed in a royal purple velvet robe with a rhinestone encrusted silver crown adorned its top.
As they entered through the open French doors, Victoria gasped at the spectacular winter wonderland. Sparkling silver snowflakes cascaded from the ceiling above them. Dressed in purple hats, scarves, or vests, snowmen and snowwomen figurines had been artfully arranged in vignettes throughout the room.
“I hear Christmas songs,” Jennifer exclaimed.
Together, she and Victoria wandered into the next room. This time, a dozen carolers dressed in Victorian attire greeted them. “If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up,” Victoria said, tapping her toe to a familiar holiday classic.
Jennifer’s attention to the carolers was short-lived. “All this singing makes me want to dance. Come on,” she said, wrapping her arm through Victoria’s.
Graciously, they each accepted a glass of the champagne offered to them by one of the waitstaff as they strolled toward the ballroom. “There he is,” Jennifer said, urging Victoria to follow her toward the rugged man who stood in the corner of the foyer. A huge grin crossed his face at their approach. “Hey, good lookin’,” Jennifer said, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend’s massive shoulders.
Victoria cleared her throat, looking anywhere but at the couple, as their lips locked in an X-rated kiss.
Andre broke the kiss, having the good sense to look embarrassed by their intimate display. “Hi, Vicki. How’ve you been?”
“Pretty good.” Victoria motioned toward the ballroom. “We were just on our way to the dance floor. I think I’ll head into the ballroom now and watch the fun. A few drinks and people let down their guard. There is no telling what might take place in there.”
“We can all hang out together,” Jennifer suggested, playing with one of Andre’s long dreadlocks.
“Yeah, Vicki. Don’t run away on our account,” Andre said, rubbing his palm over Jennifer’s hip.
“I’ll be fine.” Victoria smiled. “I think the two of you could use some time alone.”
“Sure?” Jennifer asked, preoccupied with stroking her fingers over the lapels of Andre’s jacket.
“Yup.” She turned from them and then added knowingly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jenn.”
Henry
“Pardon me.” Henry reached to pluck a grape from the cheese platter, deliberately brushing his arm along the shoulder of the mature woman who stood beside him.
“Delicious, aren’t they?” she asked coyly.
Henry lifted the grape to his lips, his eyes trailing over her well-toned curves. The grape snapped as he bit into the crisp, tart skin. “Juicy.”
“There is nothing better than to quench one’s thirst with something that is ripe and juicy.”
Henry’s mouth curved into a sly smile. “I couldn’t agree more. But I must admit—” he bent down to whisper in her ear—“I have a gluttonous appetite.”
“Sounds as if you’ll need more than a mere grape to sate your appetite. Perhaps I can assist you in finding something more satisfying to eat.”
“I’ve not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance,” he chuckled and extended his hand. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Henrique Santana.”
She accepted his proffered hand, moving her free hand over their entwined fingers. “Helen Carrington and, believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”
“Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Carrington.”
As Henry suspected, she immediately corrected him. “Ms. Carrington, but my friends call me Helen.”
“Well, I do hope we’ll become close friends, Helen,” Henry said.
The tip of her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. She smiled, tilting her head back without one of her expertly coiffed brunette hairs falling out of place. “I’ve heard of you.”
A devilish smile crossed Henry’s face. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”
“You’re the son of the real-estate developer who aspires to build a resort along the beach front. Are you not?”
“The one and only.”
A youthful member of the waitstaff offered them each a glass of champagne. “To stimulating endeavors,” she said, raising her glass for a toast.
“And invigorating friendships,” Henry added, tapping his glass to hers.
She nodded to a group of middle-aged men and women huddled together in the opposite corner. “There will be plenty of affluent politicians at this event, Henrique. You’ll need their approval if you’re to secure a building permit. Follow me, handsome.” She snaked her arm through his. “Let me introduce them to my newest friend.”
“That is most gracious of you,” Henry said and ushered her through the whirlwind of people.
A plump woman greeted them first, her figure a sharp contrast to Helen’s bountiful curves. She introduced herself as Mrs. Murdoch, and Henry took an instant liking to her. He found her husband, the senator, arrogant and much too self-important.
“Helen,” a matronly woman said, approaching the group.
Helen leaned closer to him, her ample breasts squished against his shoulder. “Henrique, do help me escape from Sylvia Unger? She is such a bore.”
“At your service,” he said.
“Oh, I do like the sound of that.” Her fingers crawled down his spine, landing on his buttocks. “Let me acknowledge her. I’ll only be a few minutes. Then we’ll find a private place where we can get to know each other better.”