A Model of Perfection

by Pamela Gibson

  "All packed?"

  "For once I'm organized. Nick's influence." The dreamy smile softened her features. My God, her sister had it bad.

  Victoria took the two cereal boxes out of the bag and put them on the counter. One was Fruit Loops. "You remembered my favorite cereal."

  "Can't let my little sister starve. You never did much cooking at home."

  "No. I never did much of anything at home." She opened the box and poured a handful into her hand, stuffing them in her mouth. "Still yummy."

  Cassie snorted and finished loading the refrigerator.

  "If you need anything, I have a tab running at the grocery store. The Bistro is a great place for coffee and pastries and dinner, if you want to eat out. Bottles and Bottles is the pharmacy. Great wine selection, too. And the library is a couple of blocks down the street. I left my card on the desk. I know you love to read."

  A flood of emotion threatened to choke her. She hadn't been sure of her reception when she showed up on Cassie's doorstep a few days ago. Growing up, she'd been snarky and mean to her older sister. They'd grown apart and rarely talked, seeing each other only when their parents demanded their presence at family holidays.

  Vickie was the pretty one whose mother entered her in beauty pageants from the time she was a teenager. Cassie was the smart one who'd finished college and owned her own business.

  And let her sister freeload, no questions asked.

  "Are you sure you're okay? I can't believe you don't want Mom and Dad to know you're here."

  "I need privacy...and rest."

  Oh, that was low. Cassie would think her illness was back.

  She took a deep breath. "Have a good time in LA, and don't be nervous. Nick's dad will adore you."

  Cassie grinned. "How did you know I was nervous?"

  "You've been speed-eating M&M's since I arrived. You should lay off them for a while. Too much caffeine in chocolate. You're positively twitchy."

  Cassie stuck out her tongue and ducked into the bedroom, emerging with a coat, laptop, and rolling suitcase. "Behave."

  Good advice. Too bad it’s a few years too late.

  Vickie locked the door and drew the curtains.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Matt got up early, fed the stock, and headed off to work. He had a full day, and he hadn’t gotten much sleep.

  His mind kept wandering back to yesterday’s encounter with Lilly and the delectable morsel she’d cornered. The woman must be a friend of Cassie's, although he didn't think she'd ever been on a land survey before. Those tight jeans with the little strategic holes in the knees and along the right thigh were right out of a boutique, and nobody wore fancy loafers into a muddy field.

  And her body ...

  He’d been damn uncomfortable in his jeans while he dwelled on it, especially the moment she bent over to scrub spit off her shoes. All his blood had rushed south when he glimpsed the little heart-shaped tattoo peeking out from between her cleavage.

  He chuckled, remembering the expression on her face as Lilly inched closer. Not a country girl. Hers was one of those unforgettable faces you see on a movie screen.

  He'd have to ask Cassie who she was when he saw her next. Hopefully real soon. The rolling hunk of junk she called Bomber ended up in his shop more times than he could count. Nick wanted her to sell the old wreck, but she loved the classic jeep, and Matt understood that kind of love. Vintage cars were his weakness. He just finished restoring a 1952 MG-TD for his own use.

  He'd sell his soul to the devil before he'd sell his MG.

  Singing along with Garth Brooks all the way into town, he pulled into the garage of Matt's Vintage Cars and Landscaping Service.

  He jumped out and walked over to the mechanic performing a lube job on a baby blue Cadillac right out of the Elvis era.

  “When did this come in?”

  “Yesterday. Where were you? I thought you were coming back after lunch.”

  "The alpacas got out again, and I had one in my field. Lilly made it through a hole in the fence and munched her way over to the field next door."

  "The property that sold last October?"

  "Yeah. I saw the Plumb Crazy crew finishing up the survey."

  Cade put down his wrench and wandered over to the sink. "I thought Nick was out of town. Who did Cassie get to help with her survey?"

  "A very classy brunette. I don't think she was an employee."

  Cade finished washing and dried his hands on a towel. "I heard she had someone visiting."

  "Yeah? Where'd you hear it?"

  "Must have been Nora's blog."

  Matt stepped into his office, checked emails, then scanned the town busybody’s Facebook page. Sure enough, folks with visitors were listed, and Cassie’s name was the first. Cassie was cute. Everyone in town loved her. But the woman with her was drop dead gorgeous—tall, thin, with an arresting face, and a rack worth more than a second glance.

  Spunky, too.

  He grinned and wondered how long she'd be around. He was surprised by the little zing he felt when their eyes met. He dated lots of women, but none had ever put him off balance at first look. Maybe it was her alpaca malfunction.

  He was a sucker for little ladies with problems. He wanted to make them happy again by fixing whatever was bothering them.

  He turned to Cade. "I'm heading over to the Sweet and Savory Bistro before I get started on the T-bird. Want anything?"

  "Chocolate croissant and two apple turnovers."

  "You're going to lose your girlish figure if you keep eating that stuff, Cade."

  "Not me. Good metabolism."

  They laughed and Matt headed out. It was a glorious spring day in town. The rains had washed away the dust from the wind they had earlier in the week, and flowers were peeking through the soil. He walked past the park, the city hall with its tall pillars, and crossed the street to the Napa Grand Hotel.

  He'd passed Plumb Crazy earlier. A sign in the window said "On vacation. In case of emergency, contact Mac Williams." Mac sold the business to Cassie and Nick at the end of the year, and apparently was still willing to pick up their slack. But if they were on vacation, was Cassie’s guest staying or leaving?

  He wasn't worried about the shirt, but he'd sure like to see her again. Maybe take her out to the Alpaca Farm and show her the good side of the business.

  The Bistro was packed when he arrived. Proprietors Lexi DeLuca and her grandmother, Priscilla Moreaux, were town favorites. Their restaurant and bakery rivaled any in the Napa Valley, or Sonoma for that matter. The Bistro's éclairs put them on everyone's must-visit list, but the rest of their offerings were good, too. Matt liked the pecan rolls. He could eat a half dozen in one sitting.

  He stood in line, greeted a few people he knew, and picked up one of the magazines on a nearby table. Flipping to the index, he saw there was a story about the Bistro, and thumbed through the pages to the article. Lexi and Priscilla beamed from behind the bakery counter in a full-page photo, and just looking at them made him smile. He flipped through a few more pages, then tossed it back on the table.

  Whoa, wait a sec.

  He picked it up again and turned two pages past the article on the Bistro. Staring out at him with a come-hither look was the woman from the field. He was sure of it. Her hair was different—blond and in braids—and she had on a ton of eye makeup. But cuddled to her midriff was a stuffed lamb, and a tiny heart peeked out from her cleavage. The caption said, “Purity body cream...for skin as soft as a newborn lamb.”

  He tucked the magazine under his arm and stepped up to the counter to place his order. "Mind if I take one of your magazines with me?"

  "You into women's fashion, Matt?"

  "Nah. I want to read the article about the Bistro in peace."

  "Take it. We bought every issue on the magazine rack at Bottles and Bottles."

  "Thanks."

  He picked up the pink box of pastries and headed back to the garage.

  Skin as soft as a newborn lamb, huh
?

  He knew something about lambs.

  He’d finish up the T-bird, wander over to the library to take back some books, and then maybe he’d stop by Cassie and Nick’s place and pick up his shirt.

  At least it was a good excuse.

  ・・・

  Victoria turned on the light in the dining room, brought out her oversized sketchpad, and flipped through the pages. She loved to create clothes almost as much as she loved to model them, and had designed several of her own outfits. The overhead light was more decorative than functional, so she closed the sketchpad and ambled back into the kitchen.

  She’d slept late, eaten a quick bowl of cereal, and cleaned the kitchen. Staying busy kept unsettling thoughts at bay, thoughts she would have to isolate and analyze at some point.

  But not quite yet.

  Maybe being here wasn't such a good idea. She hated to involve her sister in her troubles, but she needed a place to hole up. If she'd arrived three days later, Cassie would have been gone, and she would have had to check into the Napa Grand Hotel. Use her credit card.

  She'd have to get cash out of her account sooner or later, but for now she was okay, especially since Cass had thoughtfully filled the cupboards with food.

  You're being paranoid. He won't go so far as to hire someone to track you down. He's broke.

  Mario was also charming, and could convince even nice people do bad things.

  She shook off the incoming pity party, threw on a pair of yoga pants, cinched the waist, and slipped on a long-sleeved tee. She found an oversized sweatshirt with a hood—probably Nick's—and put it on. She hadn't been introduced to anyone yet, so she was sure she wouldn’t be recognized if she walked a few blocks to the library.

  She loved to read, not only novels, but books about history and economics and politics. Books had become her best friends when she was a child, and had remained her number one pastime ever since. Jack London used to live in the next valley, and Robert Louis Stevenson had camped out on the mountain that gave the town its name. She wanted to know more.

  Locking the door, she put on her sunglasses and hurried outside down a tree-lined street, past quaint Victorians and newer homes designed to fit into the neighborhood without being obtrusive. The library was a single-story structure nestled between two businesses on Main Street. She pushed through the door and entered a bright, well-organized space with checkout counters facing the door, chairs scattered throughout the stacks, as well as small tables for laptops, and a meeting room off to the left. A sign said “Do Not Disturb: Daughters of Prohibition meeting in progress.”

  She took off her glasses, pulled back the hood, checked the new arrivals shelf, then wandered off to find the local history section. She liked to know about the places she visited. Hidden gems sometimes weren’t on the main itinerary for tourists. Here, most people visited wineries.

  She reached up to get a book on St. Helena history when warm breath made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle as a deep voice said, "You smell a lot better than you did yesterday."

  Turning around she looked up into the smiling face of the alpaca wrangler.

  "Do I? The shampoo I used is a bit overpowering. Smells almost as bad as the animal. "

  "Matt Simmons." His grin was infectious, and she smiled back, shaking the hand he extended. He waited for her to say her name, and she had to think fast. Victoria was probably safe because her professional name was Tori L. Still...she couldn't be too careful.

  "Vickie Larkin. I'm Cassie's sister."

  "Ah, so that's the connection. You don’t look like an engineering intern."

  A woman with glasses looked up from the book she was reading to glare at them. They spoke in low tones, but sound carried in a quiet space.

  Vickie chose her book and headed down another aisle with Matt following. She stopped to peruse the romance offerings and turned abruptly. "Are you interested in Contemporary Romance? If so, I can recommend a few authors to you."

  He blushed and stared at his feet. "I was at the checkout counter when I saw you come in. Thought I might wander over and say hello." He set down a book and pulled the magazine out of his back pocket. "Confession time. I saw this and put two and two together."

  She stared at the magazine, turned to her Purity Cosmetics ad. She took a deep breath, hoping blood hadn't drained from her face. Because of their past animosity, she knew Cassie rarely talked about her. Even more surprising was that Matt identified her from the picture, because she looked different now. She wore very little makeup, and had dyed her hair back to her natural brown color. It should be hard for anyone seeing the ads to recognize her.

  "How did you know it was me?"

  "The tattoo. You had your shirt off."

  Oh, my God, he was right. She had the damn tattoo done years ago, and the ad team for Purity liked it and hadn't covered it for the photo shoot.

  She looked up at him and shook her head, hoping he didn't see the dread in her eyes.

  He grinned. "You're Tori ... " She pressed her hand over his mouth, hoping no one heard him.

  His lips were soft and his gaze locked onto hers. A tiny flutter traveled along her arm and settled in her stomach. His eyes still on her, he carefully removed her hand, backed her against the stacks and braced both hands on the shelf of books on either side of her head. Was he going to kiss her? Warmth spread over her as his lips parted and he leaned in. She caught herself and turned away. Her heart pounded in her ears.

  "Get a room," the woman at a table a few feet away growled. Matt jumped back, seemingly shocked by what he’d almost done. Vickie grabbed his hand and towed him toward the exit.

  "Hey, I didn't check out my book."

  "Leave it. We have to talk," she hissed, hoping her flaming cheeks weren't calling attention to her face.

  They left their books on the counter and hurried outside. Vickie shook her head. Of all the stupid things to do...and in a public place. She had to be more careful. She glanced over her shoulder. No one had followed them.

  He stopped in front of her. "Sorry. I don’t know what got into me."

  She put her hand on his arm and gazed into his eyes. The gesture made her a bit breathless. "It's very important right now for people not to know who I am."

  "You mean Cassie's sister?"

  "No. Tori L. But it's probably best if people don't even know I'm here."

  "Too late. Nora Kincaid already put it in her blog."

  "What?" Her heart kicked into double time. "Who's Nora Kincaid?"

  "Town busybody. You'll want to stay off her radar."

  She put her hands over her face and peeked through her fingers. "Did she say I was a model?"

  "Don’t think so. Just a list of who's visiting locals. Jack Tanner and Connie Larson both have friends staying here, too." He pulled her hands free. "Can I ask why?"

  She wanted to trust him. She hadn't even told Cassie yet, and not having a confidant was torment. She had to tell someone. And so far, Matt was the only one who really needed to know, since he’d recognized her.

  She studied his face. Aside from the fact she was still tingling in all her female parts from the almost-kiss in the library, he seemed earnest and intelligent. Cassie said he was one of the good guys in town, and she trusted her sister's judgment.

  "Can you keep a secret?"

  "Unless you're going to tell me you're an ax murderer I can."

  Still she hesitated. "Okay...come with me."

  "Where are we going?"

  "To Cassie's house. This is too public."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Matt wasn't a gossip, and if someone told him something in confidence, he honored their privacy. But this adorable girl seemed worked up way beyond a secret like a pilfered lipstick or an unpaid bill.

  They walked over to the little craftsman Cass and Nick rented off Second Street, and Vickie got out her key. After she tried twice to insert it in the lock, he gently took it from her hand and opened the door.

  "Sorry." She st
raightened, walked forward, then beckoned him in, setting the deadbolt once they were inside.

  He followed her into the bright, airy kitchen with its sink full of dishes and a box of cereal open on the counter. Matt straddled a hardwood chair and faced Vickie, who stood with her back to the sink.

  "You didn't rob a bank or anything?"

  "No."

  "Left Starbucks without paying a bill?"

  "No."

  She was smiling now. Better.

  "Let's see...you were caught bathing in the nude by your Sunday School teacher?”

  She paled. Interesting.

  "No."

  "What then?"

  "I have a stalker."

  Not unusual for a celebrity, and it certainly could give someone the jitters. But why hadn't she gone to the police?

  "And you've gone to the cops, but they haven't been able to help."

  She turned away and gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles turned white. "I haven't gone to the police."

  He stood and put the chair back in its place, turning her to face him. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she looked stricken. "Why don't you sit down and tell me about it."

  She nodded and went to the table. He sat opposite so he could watch her expression.

  "I started modeling when I was sixteen. An agent signed me...a wonderful woman, who's been like a mother to me. She's watched out for me, has been careful about my contracts, and has always had my best interests at heart."

  She swiped at her eyes, and Matt pulled a wadded tissue out of his pocket, making sure it was clean before he handed it to her. He didn't know what was coming, but this was obviously a painful discussion for her.

  "I met Mario Cardozza during a photo shoot a couple of years ago."

  "The race car driver?"

  "Yes. He was a hot guy all the girls were after, and when he started paying attention to me I was hooked. He took me to exciting places and let me hang out with his crew during races. We eventually moved in together. I thought I was in love."

  She stopped and stared off into space. "One night we drank too much and took some pictures."

  "What kind of pictures?"