Chasing Vivi

by A. M. Hargrove

  It’s the most stunning piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen, even better than the things my dad gave my mom. Tears form in my eyes and I blink furiously, forcing them back. It doesn’t work. I break down like a dork and cry helplessly in his arms.

  “It is that bad?” he asks.

  “No,” I sniffle, “it’s that good. It reminds me of my parents and the things Dad did for Mom. Thank you.” I cling to Prescott like a big fat gooberhead, crying my eyes out. I’m sure he thinks he landed a whiny dweeb.

  “Sorry I’m such a dork,” I say after getting the tearfest under control.

  “It’s fine, and you’re adorkable, so I don’t mind.”

  “Adorkable? Thanks.”

  “That’s being a dork in a very adorable manner.”

  “I sort of got that.”

  He wipes my face with his T-shirt. “Better now?”

  I nod and he tells me to turn so he can put the necklace on.

  “Okay, go look.”

  “Come with me.” I grab his hand and he follows me into the bathroom. My hand reaches for the necklace, lightly fingering the diamonds. The piece of jewelry is a work of art with gems woven into each of the flowers, and I tell him.

  “You make it perfect, Vivi. It was created for you.”

  I wrap my arms round his neck and look into his eyes. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time avoiding you.”

  “Eh, we have a lot of make-up sex to do. It’s going to be great.”

  “It already is.”

  Then he squeezes my ass. “I hate to break this to you, but we need to get a move on. Grand is eager to see us, though I think more so you.”

  We shower and dress, although we do take some time for a short shower fuck. We’ve decided it’s impossible for us not to do that when we’re in there together. While I’m finishing getting dressed, he calls for his car to be brought out. He’s driving today since his driver has the day off.

  “I’ve never even asked if you own a car,” I say, on the way down in the elevator.

  “I do, but I don’t drive much in the city.”

  We walk out and there’s a black fancy Mercedes waiting on us. It must be the top of the line because it has every bell and whistle imaginable. Not knowing a whole lot about cars, all I know is the dashboard looks like something you’d see on a spaceship. The seats are the most comfortable things ever that I could instantly take a nap if we were going on a road trip.

  “Nice wheels,” I casually mention.

  “You want one?”

  “One what?”

  “A car like this?” he asks.

  Is he crazy? “No! What would I do with it?”

  “Drive it around.”

  “Where?”

  He shrugs. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “You’re a nut.”

  On the way out to his grandparents, it starts to snow. “Look, Prescott. It’s snowing on Christmas Day.”

  “It’s nice, yeah?”

  “Super nice. I’ve never had a white Christmas before.” I think about how Dad would promise one every year and then I’d wake up to nothing. He’d offer me a box of confectioner’s sugar and tell me to sprinkle it on the grass. One year I tried it but ended up with a sticky mess. He laughed at me and I stuck my tongue out at him.

  “What are you thinking about over there?”

  I tell Prescott the story and he chuckles. “You would’ve needed a lot more than that little box.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t know that.”

  By the time we get to the Whitworths’, the ground is dusted in white powder. I’m way too excited for this little amount, but glad I’m wearing my new coat. Prescott helps me out of the car and we carry our gifts inside. When I asked him what he bought Grand, he wouldn’t say. Whatever it is, it’s in a gigantic box.

  They greet us in the foyer with no amount of hugs to spare. Then we’re ushered into a sitting room for warm cider, spiked coffee, or our beverage of choice. Soon, Prescott scurries me off for a tour of the large estate.

  Room after room and my head swims. The upstairs is where all the bedrooms are located, six of them—each with their own elaborate bathroom—and then the main floor has a huge living area and several smaller sitting rooms, an office for Samuel, a sunroom, a massive kitchen, and dining room. It’s simply an enormous mansion.

  “Did you grow up in a house this large?” I ask.

  “Yeah. It’s not too far from here.” His pupils shrink in size at my question.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just bad memories from last Christmas.”

  Taking hold of his hand, I say, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  We walk back into the sitting room where the Whitworths wait for us.

  “This Christmas will be much better than last, right?” Prescott says.

  “Don’t bring that up,” Sara says.

  “Son, have you given any thought to what you’re going to do about the house?” Samuel asks.

  “Yeah, I think I’ll talk to him about it after the holidays.”

  I remain quiet during this, because it’s not something I care to be involved in.

  “How do you think he’ll handle it?” Sara asks.

  Prescott laughs bitterly. “Not too well.” Then he glances at me and says, “My father won’t be happy about the house he lives in. He still thinks it’s his.”

  “Ouch.”

  “That about sums it up pretty accurately.” Then he switches gears and suggests we exchange gifts. Sara thinks it’s a great idea and so do I. Maybe it’ll get his mind off his dad.

  “Why don’t you let Sara go first,” I say.

  “Great idea.” He carries the boxes that are hers and hands her the small one first. It’s the one from me. “These are from the two of us,” he says.

  She unwraps the first, and it’s a blue printed silk scarf. The colors in it reminded me of her eyes. “Ooh, this is lovely. And you know, dear, scarves are an elderly woman’s best friend.” She holds it up to her neck to indicate why.

  “That’s not why I picked that one out for you. It reminded me of your eyes.”

  “Goodness, aren’t you sweet,” she says. She wraps it around her neck and says, “Yes, and see how it covers all the wrinkles?”

  “You’re crazy. It looks lovely on you,” I say. And it does with her silvery white hair.

  “Grand, open the next one. That great big one.”

  “I don’t think I can lift it.”

  Prescott runs over to put it on her lap.

  “Good Lord, what’s in here? Bricks?”

  “I hope not,” he says.

  She unwraps it and sees the Saks box. I wonder if he bought her a coat too.

  When she pulls it out of the box, I nearly tumble out of my chair. It’s a full-length, cream-colored fur coat.

  “Well, my goodness, look at this, Sam. Prescott and Vivienne bought me a new fur coat.”

  Vivienne had nothing to do with that. That would cost me a year’s salary. Well, maybe not, but damn.

  Sara admires it and asks, “Is it mink?”

  “Mink and sable, Grand.”

  “It’s lovely. Thank you. I’ll wear it often because you know how I absolutely freeze all the time.”

  “That’s why we got it for you,” Prescott says.

  It is? Good to know.

  She moves on to the last box, which turns out to be a sweater. What a letdown after the fur coat. Even I’m disappointed, and it’s not my present.

  Now it’s Samuel’s turn. I’m still stuck on the fur coat. I want to roll around on it. I wonder if she’d mind. Maybe I could borrow it for a day or something, just to sleep in.

  I hand him the box I brought. It seems so insignificant now I’m almost ashamed to give it to him. But he smiles warmly and is so gracious as he accepts it.

  When he opens it, Sara exclaims, “You must wear that when I wear my scarf, Samuel. It’s so lovely.”

  It’s a blue ti
e in a print that closely matches the scarf I gave her.

  “Oh, it’s wonderful, Vivi. Thank you. I have quite an addiction to ties.”

  “So I’ve heard. I’m glad you like it,” I say.

  Then he opens his gift from Prescott.

  “Thank you, son. I needed a new coat. And Burberry is my favorite.”

  Must be the year of the coat. I wonder if Prescott needs another coat. He has that expensive cashmere dress coat. I used to envy him when he wore it into the coffee shop. Maybe he’d like another one.

  “Isn’t it, Vivi?”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “I was saying that Granddad’s new coat looks very dapper on him.”

  “Oh, absolutely. You look like you stepped off the pages of a men’s magazine.”

  He keeps on and on about his new slippers. He’s really digging those. Does Prescott wear slippers or is that something older men prefer? I hate to say it, but I never paid attention. All I know is his feet are super sexy.

  How do I know this? I’ve checked them out in the shower when I’m bent over holding my ankles as he’s fucking me. Oh, shit. Why did I have to go there? Now I’ve done it. One thought and my sex has just fired up. Bam. Turn Vivi on, just like that. My clit nearly throbs and my pussy aches for his tongue and penis.

  “Vivi? Did you hear Grand?”

  “Oh, sorry.” My face heats with the flush of desire and guilt for not paying attention to my surroundings and only my horniness. “What did you ask?”

  “Grand wanted to know what I got you for Christmas.”

  “Oh!” An enormous grin takes over my expression and I show her my wrist, or more specifically, what’s wrapped around it. “Prescott spoiled me. He was way too good to me this year.”

  Sara takes my arm to get a better look.

  “It’s quite beautiful, exactly like its new owner.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. What a kind thing to say.”

  “Vivi, did you wear the necklace?”

  “Goodness, no. I’m afraid I’ll lose it.”

  “That’s what insurance is for,” Prescott says. “Wear it.”

  “But it’s so … diamondy.”

  His grandmother speaks up, “Tell me about it.”

  I describe it down to the last detail and she agrees it may be too fancy for everyday wear.

  “Fine. But when you do wear it, I don’t want you to be afraid of losing it.”

  That’ll happen when pigs fly.

  “Oh, but, Sara, he also got me the coat I wore today and a Canada goose coat, because I’m always cold, too.”

  “Wonderful. It’s nice to know my grandson is so thoughtful.”

  “He’s very thoughtful,” I say, smiling at the subject of our discussion.

  “Sam, get Vivienne her present,” Sara says.

  Sam hands me a small box. I’m pretty sure it’s jewelry. I open it and inside is a gorgeous necklace, not a fancy one like Prescott bought me, but a simple chain and pendant. It appears to be silver, but knowing the Whitworths, I’d imagine it’s platinum.

  “How pretty. Thank you.”

  Prescott puts it on me and I move in front of a mirror to see how it looks. Then I run to hug each of them, because I didn’t expect anything like this.

  “It looks lovely on you, dear,” Sara says.

  Then they hand Prescott an envelope. I’m sure it’s money or stocks or something. He sticks it in his pocket after he thanks them profusely and hugs both of them.

  Not much later, the doorbell rings, and Sara claps her hands. “Oh, good, that will be Melinda and Robert. They’re on time for a change.”

  Melinda is related to Prescott on Sara’s side. Sara had a cousin who passed and it’s her daughter. She usually comes for Christmas dinner every year. She was present for the debacle last year. Prescott is fond of Melinda and Robert. They’re older, in their forties, and live farther out than here, so he doesn’t see them often.

  After all the introductions are made, we sit around and talk before an impressive dinner is served. Sara laughs when I compliment her on the wonderful meal. “Oh, darling, you must tell my lovely cook, Letty, who’s been with us for years now. Bless her, she came in today because you really wouldn’t want to eat my cooking.”

  Prescott laughs. “Oh, I don’t know. Those hot dogs you made last year were pretty darn good.” They fill me in on the meal they ate after his dad acted like an ass.

  “Well, I love hot dogs.”

  Sara leans forward conspiratorially. “I do too, but don’t tell anyone.” Then she winks. I laugh at her.

  “Grand can’t cook, so don’t ever let her try to fool you. One time she tried to make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I almost choked to death,” Prescott says.

  “You too?” Melinda asks. “I thought I was gonna die. There was so much peanut butter on the thing it got jammed in my throat. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Exactly! I’d taken a huge bite and you know how peanut butter is. It was all gobbed up in my mouth, so I couldn’t spit it out. A nightmare. Never again.”

  “Thank you. I did that intentionally so you two would never ask me to make a lunch for you again.”

  I’m sitting and observing the exchange. Sara is in heaven. She adores these two and loves to be the center of their attention.

  “Prescott, I can’t wait for you and Vivi to have kids. I’ll make that child one, too.”

  Whoa. Again? She’s sure set on us having children. Has Prescott shared something with her? My eyes dart to him and his are glued to me. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth like he actually enjoys this idea. Maybe I do too, but I don’t know if I can admit it quite yet.

  After dinner, we all decide we’re not quite ready for dessert, so we go and sit in the large living room where a huge fire is burning. The snow has continued to fall all day and by now there’s a fair amount on the ground. I peek out the window and gaze at it longingly.

  “Want to go out and play?” Prescott asks.

  “I don’t know. I don’t really have any boots.”

  “Grand does. She’ll let you borrow some.”

  When I’m appropriately dressed in Hunter Boots and a warm weatherproof jacket, Prescott and I go out for a romp in the snow. He takes me out back where the gardens are in the summer and we hold hands as he explains where Sara’s different flowers are.

  “In the winter she spends time in the city, but when the spring hits, you can find her right here, on her knees, digging in the dirt.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, and her flowers are unreal. I can’t wait to show you. She’ll have to tell you what she plants because I’m not good with flower names. But she sets it up so there’s always something in bloom. You’ll love it.”

  We’re about to head back in when he bends down and throws snow in my face. It escalates into a war, but I’m no good at making snowballs, so I jump on him instead. We both fall to the ground, me on top, and it ends up in a kissing session.

  “I like snowy Vivi.”

  “Mmm, so do I. This is fun.”

  “I’ll have to take you ice skating,” he says.

  “I’ve never been. Is it fun?” I ask.

  “Yeah, if you don’t fall too much.”

  “Are you any good?”

  He waggles his brows. “I can hold my own, though I’d never score a goal.”

  “Could you prevent me from falling?”

  “Sure, if you don’t do anything wild.”

  I brush his hair back. “No, just a plain old-fashioned fall.”

  “Hmm, maybe I want you to fall. Hard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “For me.”

  Grabbing his bottom lip with my teeth, I say, “Already have.”

  After I let it go, he says, “Good, because you know I’ve fallen for you, too. I’m so in love with you, Vivi Renard.”

  Chapter 35

  Prescott

  I hadn’t planned on telling her again, but it was as g
ood a time as any. The smile I received in return was worth every word.

  “I’m in love with you, too,” she says. Then she gives me a loud smacking kiss and giggles like hell. It’s the first time she’s actually said the words and not just insinuated them, and I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched. It takes me a moment to recover.

  “I think they heard that all the way inside.”

  “Great. That was my plan.”

  “I guess we should go back in.”

  Vivi gives me a huge smile. “Guess we should. I need to tell Sara I’m in love with her grandson.”

  “You do that.” I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

  I help her up and brush the snow off her. Then we walk back holding hands. What a weird thing to do. I’ve always hated this kind of crap and now it’s all I want to do.

  We eat our desserts sitting around the fire and soon after, Melinda and Robert take off for home. We promise to get together soon.

  Grand and Vivi sit close and chat. I hear something about flowers. Vivi’s probably asking about the gardens. Granddad and I discuss a little business and suddenly there’s a loud commotion at the front door. I look up to see my father rushing into the room, shouting. What the hell is he doing here?

  “Isn’t this a cozy sight?” he snarls. “I know what you’re up to. Isn’t it enough that you kicked me out of the company? But now you’re planning on kicking me out of my own home—the home I raised you in? The home your mother and I shared. Prescott, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but is this a way to repay the man who raised you, who made all kinds of sacrifices for you?”

  I sit, rigid as stone, mentally ticking off the things he just said to make sure I heard them correctly. Then I take a few deep breaths to get my thoughts lined up.

  “You must be delusional,” I begin. “First off, the house isn’t yours and it never was. Second, you were kicked out of the company because of your own poor decision-making. Third, you do know what’s gotten into me. It’s that lying wife of yours. If you’d bother to fact check, you might figure a lot out. Why don’t you start with the pool boy down in West Palm?” I shake my head in disgust. “And finally, these fine people in here raised me, not you. They’re the ones who did the sacrificing, not you. I have nothing further to say to you. Leave now.” By the end, my voice is booming.