Vanity's Pleasure

by Olivia Gaines

  He kissed her hand, “Then that would mean that I was lousy at it as well.” Nigel smiled at her and only added, “It is my responsibility to make sure we are both equally satisfied. More importantly, to make sure that you find your pleasure.” He smiled at her and explained that if it took two weeks or two months, then they would wait, “But we figure it out and decide together. When the time comes, Wilhelmina, I will make it a good experience for you.” His glance was short but full of meaning as he turned his head and gazed back out of the window.

  Vanity removed her hand from his and said, “Lana Turner, a famous American actress once said that a gentleman is nothing more than a patient wolf.”

  “Yes, but wolves are animals of opportunity which prey upon the weaknesses of lesser animals. You and I have a voyage together. My plans are to date you for a while before I let you chat me up with your big pretty words and fabric talk and get in my pants.” Vanity’s outburst of laughter was like pixie dust in the air. It was almost infectious. Nigel held up a well-manicured finger into the air, “Because I’m not promiscuous either!” He found himself laughing along with her as well as noticing she physically relaxed as they headed towards a long stretch of empty desert.

  When her laughter ebbed, cautious eyes glanced his way, “So. You are planning to date your wife?”

  He put on a Texas accent, “Yessiree Bob! And I’m a’gonna date you for the rest of our lives.” And there it was—that look that made her go all soft inside. I can see myself loving this man with everything I have.

  “Now I have a question for you, my darling Wilhelmina.” He saw her physically tense up again. She gave him a half smile, encouraging his inquiry.

  “Where in the bloody hell are we? I swear I think we just passed that same exact cactus 45 minutes ago...” He pointed at a tall Saguaro. Her laughter rang out, filling the car with a new energy.

  His thumb gently rubbed her hand, “Darling, I have never driven an American car before—can I give Guinevere a go?”

  Vanity slowed the car and pulled over to the shoulder, “Just remember which side of the road to drive on, okay?”

  As they stepped outside of the car, the mid-morning sun hit Nigel like a blow to the chest. “I know where we are... we are at the precipice of the gateway to Hell,” Nigel told her as he closed her car door and sauntered around to the driver’s side to slid in the seat. He checked the mirror, making a fish face. “I think the skin on my face just shrank from the heat outside,” he told her.

  My husband. Nigel Strathmore is going to be my husband.

  Vanity Devons was getting married.

  {7] Dealing with Daddy...

  The GPS guided them onto I-10 and straight into Scottsdale to her parent’s gated community. Mr. Billy was excited when he saw the black coupe with the Davonshire House trademark logo on the front license plate. He was even happier when Nigel rolled down the window and he saw Vanity’s face. In his jolly Texas drawl he said, “I do declare, Ms. Devonshire, you seem to get prettier each and every time I see you, child!” She thanked him for the compliment and introduced Nigel as her fiancé.

  “Lawd, the press must not have gotten hold to that bit of info yet, Ms. D. I know there will be a world full of brokenhearted young fellas knowing that you are no longer on the market.” She only smiled again and waved as she and Nigel slowly began to pull away. “You are a lucky guy there, young man.”

  “Why, that I am Mr. Billy. Yes, I am.” Vanity’s jaw dropped as Nigel presented a perfect New Yorker accent.

  “It is easier sometimes to just blend in,” he said while following the directions of the voice on the GPS.

  To Nigel, the gated community looked like every picture he had seen of American suburban living. Each home looked pretty much like the next one with graveled front yards adorned by desert plumage until the GPS guided him down a side street into a cul-de-sac. In the half circle lay a home that was definitely outside the norm. It was an unusual shade of green trimmed in orange, with large windows, and it appeared to be a botanical garden of desert foliage and plants. Vanity instructed Nigel, “Pull into the drive and drive around back to the garages.”

  The press of a button on the steering wheel opened the garage door on the end. Nigel skillfully maneuvered the car into the garage and killed the engine. “Guinevere gets great gas mileage,” he said as he removed their bags from the car. “Do I need to have her serviced, washed or have petrol added?”

  “It will be taken care of—come let’s go inside.” As she started to walk away, Nigel noticed there were five cars in the garage. The newest was the one they just parked. There was an SUV, which was probably her father’s, a mid-sized sedan, which probably belonged to her mother, Will’s caddy, an old Jeep, and a well- maintained Nissan. “Which one is yours?” he asked.

  Vanity pointed to the Jeep and smiled. Nigel was surprised. The vehicle was nearly seventeen years old. “It is rather timeworn, isn’t it?”

  “It runs like a charm,” she said, eyeing the car as if it was the newest and most expensive model.

  “Do you have another vehicle other than this one?” Nigel eyed the older automobile and could not imagine this beautiful woman driving such an outdated lorry. He would soon buy her another fitting of her beauty and social standing. She was going to be a Duchess.

  She touched the car with a fondness that radiated through her smile, “This was my first and only car. My father gave this to me for my 16th birthday.” She looked at him with mists of tears in her eyes, “When I am here, I don’t drive, and besides, I seldom go anywhere alone.”

  Nigel realized that her life was far more complicated than he may have initially thought. The next ten days in America in her world would give him a better understanding of the woman he would soon call his wife. She was definitely nothing like he had imagined. She was very modest and not prone to excess. He peered over her shoulder and eyed the house. Her parents were well off. From what he had read, her father was some form of Lord Chief Justice. David was an executive, and she was a multi-millionaire, but the house, was...well normal looking from the outside. Her twin...I don’t know what that chap does for a living. The inside would really tell how her parents lived and how she had been raised. His decision to plan this trip to claim her as his bride was feeling better and better. It had been a while since Nigel had been this excited about anything in his life. The next few days were going to be stimulating and he could barely wait.

  He followed her towards the back door of the house, unknowing that the next ten minutes would change his life in more ways that he had anticipated. Starting the moment he stepped through her parent’s patio door.

  THE BACK PORCH HELD a massive gas grill, a roaster, a charcoal grill, and an awning with a hot tub next to very comfortable lounge furniture. The garden was lush and almost out of place. It seemed a bit extravagant for a desert home but then he noticed the filters and realized the garden was being watered with a recycling system. The arbors that covered the plants helped keep them cool and whoever designed the garden had taken a great deal of care in its planning.

  Vanity did not interrupt him as he took it all in. She waited patiently by the door until he had completed his inspection of the mini oasis. “David hired his gardener to install all of the plants, but Gianni designed the irrigation and watering system for Mamí.”

  “Your brother’s teenage son designed the irrigation system?” He looked impressed and turned to follow her towards the door but she had not moved. “Before we go in, I need to tell you about my cousin Cookie,” she said with a very low voice.

  Vanity explained the Cookie was her father’s niece and had been living with them for the last thirty years. “She has a form of Down’s syndrome and has no filters.”

  She said the last part with a smile, “Please don’t be offended at anything Cookie says. She has a wonderful heart, and is a great....” he stopped her words with a kiss. She swooned into him a bit, falling into the strength of his chest and he released her and open
ed the kitchen door.

  As they entered the kitchen, a middle-aged black woman stood washing fruit at the sink. She turned and looked at Vanity and her eyes and face lit up, “Willie, you’re home. I got lots of fruits and veggies from the market, just like you like!”

  Vanity reached into her bag and pulled out a brightly colored scarf, “And for you Cookie, I found this perfect scarf. I thought you would love it.”

  Nigel watched the scene and was truly touched by Wilhelmina’s love for her cousin. He admired the way they spoke to each other and communicated with small exchanges of affection. Vanity tied the scarf around the lady’s neck and gave her a big warm hug. “Cookie,” Vanity added, “this is Nigel. Nigel and I are going to be married.”

  Cookie’s eyebrows went up. Nigel moved forward to enter her space, “Cookie, it a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You talk funny!” She said with a surprise in her voice.

  Nigel touched her arm and lowered his voice, “That’s because I am from England, and most people in England sound like I do.”

  Cookie stepped back, looking at Nigel as if he had done something wrong. He looked at Vanity, wondering if he had as well. Cookie frowned at him, pointing her finger in an accusatory manner, “Uncle David said you were the son of bitch that was trying to steal his baby!”

  Vanity gasped as she heard an audible growl from Nigel, “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Uncle David said you were a son of a bitch,” she went back to washing her fruit, “Would you like an apple, you Son of a Bitch?”

  Vanity turned her head in an effort to collect her thoughts about how to handle this. Instead it was Nigel who spoke and addressed her father’s intended jab at him, “Cookie, that is your Uncle David’s special name for me, but do you know what Willie likes to call me?”

  Her eyes were wide as she handed him an apple, “No, what does Willie like to call you, Son of a Bitch?”

  His smile was terse, but Nigel was set upon giving it back to his soon to be father-in-law. “Willie likes to call me her Loverman.”

  He said it with such a huge smile that Cookie started smiling too. “Cookie, I would like for you to call me Willie’s Loverman as well. Can you do that?”

  Cookie was smiling back at Nigel, who had taken the apple from her hand and taken a big bite. He told her how it was a good choice and praised her for making such a lovely selection at the market. He made a point of touching everything in the sink and telling her how awestruck he was at her fruit-picking talent. She grinned and pretended to be shy as she sliced an apple and added the perfect tablespoon of peanut butter to a small cup and handed it to Vanity. From his back pocket, he removed a handkerchief that was embroidered with NCS, with the C being prominent. It was made of the finest cotton, and he handed it to Cookie, who noticed the enlarged C.

  “C is for Cookie!” She hugged Nigel and acted as if he had given her the gift of sight. Vanity was captivated by the interchange between the two but worried at the same time. Nigel had called her father’s play, which meant lunch was going to be tense.

  She showed Nigel the house and then took him to the guest room to give him a moment to freshen up before they sat down for a jousting match she was uncertain her fiancé was going to win. She said a silent prayer in hopes that her father and soon-to-be husband could find a happy medium. The remainder of Saturday and all day Sunday, they would spend with her parents before taking off on Monday morning to Vegas.

  I just have to get through this.

  Getting through it was going to be a bit tougher than she had planned. The doorbell rang and her cousin Khalea showed up with her briefcase. The briefcase means legal documents and my Daddy is going to go all lawyer on Nigel.

  This was not going to be good.

  {8] Say What Now...

  Khalea re-introduced herself to Nigel and apologized for leaving so early last night. It was almost lunchtime and her Loverman thanked her father once more for his hospitality and complimented Elena on the home. Cookie walked in with lunch service and Elena rose to help serve the food. Vanity poured the tea while Khalea aided with silver wear. Everyone was busy doing something leaving Nigel and her still very angry father at the table alone.

  “Is there anything I can help with?” Nigel asked.

  All the women said no, as plates were made and placed first in front of her father then in front of him, next the mother, Khalea, and finally Vanity. Cookie seldom ate at the table, but was smiling at Nigel and he smiled back at her. “Would you like some more tea, Willie’s Loverman?”

  Elena choked and Khalea dropped her head. He responded nicely to her that he was fine. Cookie was grinning from ear to ear as she took out the handkerchief Nigel had given her and wiped at the corners of her mouth with the embroidered C. Cookie went all soft and batted her eyelashes at Nigel when she told him, “I have some more asparagus in the kitchen if you want some more of that too, Willie’s Loverman.”

  Nigel smiled at her, “Everything looks absolutely divine Cookie. I can’t wait to sample your delicious cooking.”

  She bounded off to the kitchen, yelling over her shoulder, “Okay Willie’s Loverman!”

  Everyone at the table stared down at their plates with the exception of Nigel, who raised his glass and looked down the table at her father. Vanity slowly raised her eyes and noticed the smirk on her father’s face. Nigel raised his glass higher in a toast and her father reciprocated, “Well played, Your Grace.”

  David Sr. blessed the food and they began to eat.

  It was here that Nigel could not help but notice the exact portions on Vanity’s plate. Surprisingly, she ate all of her food, and her dessert was a small bowl of strawberries, while the rest of the table had sponge cake with berries and fresh cream. Lunch was rather quiet and Vanity was almost okay with it, knowing why Khalea was here.

  Lunch was quickly over and Cookie returned, seeking more adoration from Nigel, who slathered it on her with a very large knife, “The salmon was cooked to perfection and lunch was amazing. Thank you, Cookie, it was fantastic.” He patted on his belly.

  “Thank you, Willie’s Loverman!” she added while collecting the dirty dishes. Vanity gave her a hand with clearing the table and Nigel rose and took his plate to the kitchen as well. “Wilhelmina, everything is so tense. What is happening?”

  David Sr. came into the kitchen, “It’s because I want to speak with you before you two move forward with your plans.” Nigel handed his glass to Cookie to be added to the dishwasher and followed the patriarch back to the dining room.

  Still in the kitchen, Vanity watched the two walk away and only hoped that Nigel wouldn’t get punched in the nose again. She held onto the glass and Cookie nearly had to fight with her cousin to get the woman to relinquish her grasp. “I had a Loverman once too, Willie,” she said very quietly.

  Vanity turned to the woman who had spent so many years of her life in this kitchen cooking meals for the family. “Really Cookie, what happened to him?”

  “Uncle David tried to shoot him,” she said and went back to humming and loading the dishwasher.

  Vanity stood dumbfounded, “Say what... now?”

  With a face full of concern, Cookie turned to look at her cousin, “He didn’t shoot him, though. He wanted to, but I told Uncle David that I loved him, and if he hurt my Jimmy it would break my heart.”

  She never knew this... any of this. Vanity watched Cookie’s face, who turned, her eyes softly framed by grayed temples. “I have been locked in this kitchen for a long time because I was scared of Uncle David. I’m not very smart, but I do know some things. I know love.”

  Vanity had never heard Cookie speak so plainly before. Over the years, it had only been a few words to her as she prepared her food and asked her to bring specific items she would want to wear, but a heart-to-heart—never.

  “If you want to be with your Loverman, go in there and stop Uncle David. If not, you are going to be stuck all alone in the kitchen too!”

  KHALEA REMOVED P
APERS from her briefcase, “Nigel, what I have here are called Prenups.”

  “I am familiar,” he told them as Khalea handed him the papers.

  Vanity slipped into the room and said nothing as her father and personal attorney explained about protecting the interest of Vanity’s Pleasure Lingerie Company as well as Vanity’s personal interest. “This just says that if you divorce my baby, you get nothing of hers,” David Sr. added.

  Nigel reached for the pen that Khalea had, took the documents and looked for his name, and signed them without reading through the details. He then handed the pen to Vanity, “Wilhelmina, darling, your turn.”

  She stepped up and signed the documents as well, and Nigel kept one copy for himself, folding it putting it in his back pocket. “Right then,” Nigel said as he turned towards her mother, “Elena, might I trouble you for a cup of tea?”

  Her father was not satisfied. This was not how he was supposed to meet his son-in-law. They were supposed to talk and bond and share stories. Nigel Strathmore was cold and there was nothing that radiated from the man that made David Sr. want to trust him with his daughter. Then to sneak off to Vegas to wed her, without him there to give her away. He probably planned to move her completely to England, a country with no sunshine. With a scowl on his face, he asked, “Will my Pumpkin have to sign a prenup when she gets to England as well?”

  Elena must have been prepared as she poured Nigel a cup of tea from the side board. Nigel, tea in hand, looked at David Sr. square in the face and said, “No, she will not, Sir.”