Sets Appeal

by Virginia Taylor

  “Would you like me to pour you a drink?” she asked the other woman, whose glass she couldn’t see.

  “I’m not drinking.” Lonny glanced at her with a smug expression on her face.

  “You ought to try this one.” Sherry waved one of Vix’s father’s whites under Lonny’s nose. “It’s light and lovely.”

  Lonny stared at the label. “Maintree? Where did you get that?”

  “Barossa, wasn’t it, Vix?”

  Vix cleared her throat. “A promotion. I’m a Barossa girl. I get lots of freebies.”

  “Tim used to drink Maintree all the time, but it can’t be bought. The maker keeps his wines exclusive.” Lonny stared directly at Vix, a crease between her perfect eyebrows.

  “Yes. But he likes other people to taste them, as I said.” Vix tried to look completely gormless, which wasn’t as hard as she had hoped.

  Lonny put her hand to the small of her back and rubbed. “I was given a dozen, but Jay and I drank the last a couple of months ago. It’s a very good wine, but I’m not drinking now, thanks, Sherry. Health reasons.”

  “Liver disease?” Luke asked, clanking into the room with a handful of empty bottles, which he clattered into an empty beer carton.

  “Very funny.” Lonny gave a fake smile. “I think I’ll circulate for a while.” She left with the pastries.

  “Have you ever known her to be that helpful?” Luke asked Sherry, planting his fists on his hips.

  “Just an excuse to ooze up to Jay,” she said flippantly. “Is it just me, or do you think he’s a bit off her?”

  “Dunno,” he said, indicating Vix.

  Vix gave a weary sigh. “It’s hard being a princess. I miss all the best gossip. I might go and ooze up to Steve. He’s looking quite dashing tonight.”

  “That’ll be interesting.” Luke grinned. “Steve could handle it, but I can’t wait to see Lonny’s reaction. She’s been leading him around by the you-know-what for years.”

  So, Vix oozed up to Steve, who put a beefy arm around her shoulders and asked what she wanted, the outcome of which got his promise to modify the cupboard bought for the nursery scene in the musical, after which Lonny stopped trying to undo the buttons of Jay’s shirt and hauled Steve off to another party.

  Since this left Jay and Trent with Steve’s car, Jay said he had a lift, thanks, and so Trent offered to drive Kellen and his two girls home, and a good partnering was had by all, presumably, including Vix, who not only ended up with Jay, as planned, but also might have out-bluffed Lonny. If not, she would do a Scarlett O’Hara and regroup: a good two-glasses-of-champagne plan.

  * * * *

  Jay had the best start to New Year’s Day ever, lying on his back and being leisurely ridden by Vix, after which he lifted her off and sped up the pace. After breakfast, they decided to do nothing related to home improvements. Instead, he walked hand in hand with her through the city parklands a street away from her house. After that, they window-shopped in O’Connell Street, buying a coffee before they meandered home. Home—her house, or his house, he didn’t care.

  “I don’t know what you said to Lonny, but she seems to accept you now,” he said, his fingers twined with hers as they entered by the back door.

  “Didn’t she accept me before?”

  “She thought you were a bit too classy for me.”

  “So, either I’m less classy now, or you are more classy.”

  He laughed, glad not to have to defend Vix to Lonny any more. “I hope she’s not stringing Steve along.”

  “I do, too. He’s smitten, and he’s such a nice guy.”

  The next day at work, Steve seemed not to think he’d been strung along and Trent was being cagey about the end of his evening. “Kell kept both the girls,” Jay suggested to Trent, who wouldn’t look him in the eye.

  “Maybe.”

  “Jesus. You both ended up with them both.”

  Trent angled his head to the side. “Maybe,” he said, his eyes narrowed.

  “That’s what I’ll have to think if you won’t say.”

  “Maybe is what I have to say or Kell won’t share again, either one or both.”

  “You probably played bridge.”

  “Maybe.” Trent shoved his hands into his pockets.

  “Get the back out of that cupboard so that Steve can put in the seat.”

  “Where’s Vix? I thought she wanted to paint Little Miss Muffet on this thing.”

  “She can’t until you’ve taken the back out and added a seat and so she’s gone shopping for the toys she’ll have on the top. The cupboard’s meant to show the scene is in a kid’s nursery.”

  “Where else? I wouldn’t have Little Miss Muffett on my cupboard—unless that was the name of one of Kell’s girls.” Trent snickered.

  Jay left. His loyal workers had snatched back their independence, which suited him, bearing in mind that he wouldn’t be around much longer. In three weeks, the set would be finished, and the schedule was tight. If the end loomed too soon, the guys would work overtime. Jay always delivered sets as planned.

  Four days late, in the middle of the next week, he found the letter he’d been awaiting in his mailbox. Only an optimist would expect to win a nationwide architectural design competition, but he’d hoped his plan for a major Port Adelaide development would put him in with a bullet. He already knew he’d made the top five, but a win would give him a chance with Vix. His heart thudding and his fingers unsteady, he opened the envelope, skimming the wording and noting the check.

  He’d won one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

  Light-headed, he walked into the house with the money, an almighty sum, which was the lesser prize. The real prize was that now he might be offered work experience with a South Australian group and possibly be outsourced to help build his design, that is, if the murk of his past didn’t haunt him.

  Expecting Vix any time soon, he left the check and the letter on the kitchen counter top, smoothing out the creases, rereading the wording, still dry-mouthed, unbelieving. When he heard his garage door open, he woke up to reality, snatched up the check and the letter, and shoved them back into the envelope. He had debts to pay before he could think about making a life with the woman he loved. At least now, he had a chance to be with her.

  * * * *

  Jay and his team worked steadily for another week finishing off the set. His checklist said each scene, sixteen in all, had every component needed, but he didn’t doubt that the set designer would have a more detailed view than him, a mere carpenter/builder who worked to a set of plans. Any last minute adjustment could be made in the theater.

  The next weekend, Vix finished off some of her extras at his house while he plodded along with his own kitchen cupboards. Now that he actually had a real future, he didn’t see renovating his house as his only money earner and so he decided to enjoy the process as much as the end result.

  Vix sat on the floor making her everlasting leaves—this lot, a set of painted fabric cut-outs with wired stems covered by green florist’s tape—while he lay half inside a lower cupboard attaching hinges.

  “We ought to take a coffee break soon,” he said, his voice echoing back at him, and her phone rang somewhere in the house.

  He sighed. She routinely lost her phone and now she would go on a hunt, tracing the call tune, which had to be the most irritating of them all, the William Tell overture.

  “Where’s my phone?”

  “In your handbag.”

  “Where’s my handbag?”

  “In the bedroom by the sound of it.”

  She rose to her feet, clutching a handful of leaves, and hurried off. The galloping noise of the phone ended, followed by her voice saying nothing he could make out.

  “That was Melissa, my stepmother,” she said, suddenly appearing at the end of his upturned feet. “She and my father are in town. She wants me to drop everything and go to see her. She wouldn’t say why.” She opened her hand a
nd let her collection of wired leaves drop to the floor. “That’s everything dropped. I can’t imagine why she wants to see me instantly and now I’m worried. It must be about my father because he won’t be there.” She picked up her leaves and placed them onto the countertop. “Do I look okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She waited for a nod and then she pushed her feet back into her loafers, shoved her phone into her bag, and left.

  Within minutes, the doorbell chimed. He rose to his feet and brushed wood shavings off his jeans as he walked along the passage, and he opened the door to a delivery driver dressed in a blue overall. “Shelves for you,” the man said. “As ordered.”

  Jay shook his head. “Not by me.”

  “Red-gum shelves. From the Barossa.”

  “Oh, yes. Of course. I’ll come out with you.” He followed the man to the unmarked van and waited while the back doors were opened. Even from the street, he could see the gleaming red wood, the precise workmanship, and the value of the two sets of shelves large enough to fill one of his study walls. “I’d forgotten how perfect these are.” He stepped into the truck and ran his hand over the wax finish of the nearest end. “Beautiful. These were made by artisans, people who understand real quality.” Drawing a deep breath, he straightened, squaring his shoulders. “Unfortunately, I can’t accept anything this valuable. I’ll reimburse you for the full trip. Take them back, with my thanks.”

  The van shifted as another man he hadn’t noticed climbed down from the high seat at the front. “And don’t you appreciate real quality?” asked the man, appearing at the back doors of the truck. He wore soft tan leather shoes, cream chinos, and a red checked shirt. James Tremain, Vix’s lanky, elegant father, stood foursquare, his fists planted on his hips.

  Jay’s jaw clamped. “You’ve been very generous, but I can’t take another thing from you.”

  “Including my daughter?” James’s lips barely moved but his light eyes flashed. “I suggest we discuss this inside. Roly, wait here.”

  Jay swung out of the van and indicated his open front door with one sweep of his arm. Without a word, Tremain led the way into the house, striding along the hallway and though into the sitting room. “Do you mind?” He indicated one newly upholstered art deco chair.

  “Please,” Jay said, waiting for the older man to sit before seating himself in the other. “And I do, of course, appreciate quality, which is why you are here. You’re about to make me an offer for your daughter that you think I won’t refuse.” His jaw felt so stiff that he expected to hear a creak.

  “You’ve accepted my money before.” Tremain leaned back comfortably. His elbows rested on the arms of the chair and he meshed his fingers together across his upper chest.

  “As I said, you’ve been generous. I mean to repay you.”

  Tremain made a sound of derision. “You wasted the opportunity I gave you, all for the sake of a female with the morals of an alley cat. Nice scar.”

  “Thanks. It has faded somewhat into this distinguishing mark. I presume the phone call was to get rid of Vix while you attempted to get rid of me.”

  “Bright lad, matriculated top of your school, top ten in the state. Not bad when only six altogether matriculated from your school, most of whom were your friends and now are your loyal sidekicks. You dragged them along in your wake. Was it worth the effort?”

  “You know it was,” Jay said in a low voice. “You would have done the same if you’d been brought up in our circumstances, but you happened to be born rich, which is why you try to compensate by offering the disadvantaged like me a leg-up. I’m sorry I wasted the opportunity you gave me, but there’s not a snowball’s chance I will accept any man beating up any woman, even if that man happened to be your so unworthy son-in-law.”

  Tremain dropped his gaze. “And so, to pay me back for supporting my son-in-law and believing his story, you’ve gathered my impressionable, vulnerable daughter under your accommodating roof. And you plan to make a good bargain before you set her free.” He unfolded his arms, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair. “I wouldn’t stop at the shelves, if I were you. They’re worth upward of five thousand, and I know you wouldn’t settle for that.”

  “Are you insane? I love Vix. Look at this room. She did this. From mixing the paint to covering the chairs, she helped me every step of the way. Add that to the start you gave me, and I owe you an enormous debt. Which, as I said, I will repay.” Jay heaved a breath.

  “After you get a job, I presume?”

  “Right now. I have your own check for one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in my study.”

  Tremain’s eyebrows lowered. “My check?”

  “I won your design competition. Not, of course, under my own name. I didn’t want to bias the results.”

  “You still don’t suffer from a lack of confidence, do you? So, you plan to give me back my own money.”

  “Not all of it, no. Since you gave me thirty thousand a year for four years, I am proposing to pay back one hundred and twenty thousand and keep thirty thousand as my prize. It’s not much in your world, but in mine, it’s half my remaining mortgage.” He stood, numb, his pride intact. Not so his heart. He would lose Vix, nothing was more certain. “I’ll bank the check and send you your share as soon as the money clears.”

  “And so now we bargain for my daughter.” Tremain stood, too, his eyes narrowed, his back ramrod stiff. “How do you think she will feel when she finds out you still have a dubious relationship with her husband’s mistress? Yes.” He nodded with emphasis. “I’ve had you investigated. How do you think she’ll feel when she finds out you know she’s my daughter? Betrayed, that’s how she’ll feel. She thinks she has befriended a new group of interesting people who like her for herself.”

  “She has.”

  “That won’t fly. You misrepresented yourself. You’re an ambitious young man with a lot of talent. Her first husband was the same. Like him, you think the most attractive thing about her is her money. I can tell you now you won’t get a lot of it if you persuade her to marry you.”

  Jay wanted to indicate the front door, but he damn well wouldn’t end this now. “I’m planning on earning a decent wage,” he said crossing his arms across his chest.

  James gave a brief, scathing hoot of laughter. “You’ll earn sixty thousand per year at best for the next two years and to her, that’s pocket money. That is, if you can get work experience in this state, and I can make sure you don’t.”

  “I know.” Jay maintained his stance, despite the ache in his chest. “But the set we’re working on is hers, regardless of the designer and the construction team. Her painting is amazing, and I don’t want to rock her boat before the triumph of her first night.”

  “She’ll know you lied about knowing who she was by next week.” Tremain raised his eyebrows in disdain. “We don’t keep the name of our competition winner a secret. The publicity is part of the prize and gives the winner a good start, more often than not with Tremain’s. We have an ad booked for the paper on Monday.”

  “If I hadn’t told you, you would have used Jason Deene as the published winner. Why put my real name unless you want to hurt her?”

  Tremain rubbed a finger along his bottom lip. “If I don’t tell her a thing until after the first night, do I have your word you will let her go?”

  “You won’t take my word,” Jay said through his teeth. “You didn’t when I told you Tim hit Ilona. You didn’t want bad publicity for him and so you threw me to the wolves. But for this win of mine, I would have been pretty well unemployable in this state because of that. I’m not now unless you go out of your way to make life difficult for me. That said, I don’t owe you my word for anything.” Shoulders stiff, he indicated the front door.

  James Tremain tilted his eyebrows and left. Moments later, Jay heard the shelves delivered to the front porch and the van drive off.

  Knowing he had to accept the gift for Vix’s sake, Jay went into the garage and smacke
d nails out of old floorboards until he calmed down. Then he brought the shelves inside. His ability to see sense had returned before Vix came back, slightly puzzled.

  “She only wanted to show me the dress she’d bought for my grandmother for the first night of the show. Well, she bought one for me, too, but I don’t know if I’m going.”

  He hugged her too tightly, causing her to protest. A week. He only had one week more with her. “You’ll want to be there on the first night. That’s the night when you’ll hear how much the audience likes the set.”

  “Yes, but what if they don’t clap? I’ve often heard a set not clapped.”

  “They’ll clap yours. It’s light and bright like you and slightly quirky like you.”

  “Quirky? No one could be more conventional.” She cupped his face and kissed him.

  When she stopped, he drew a deep breath. “While you were away, the shelves for the study arrived.”

  “Oh, good. I had forgotten to give my father the address and he asked yesterday. How do they look?” A wide smile on her lovely face, she took his hand and led him into the study. “They’re perfect for you. I’m so glad you have them.”

  Since the shelves were his payment for letting her go, he could barely manage a wry smile.

  Chapter 14

  Although Vix had met Jay a scant three months ago, she couldn’t imagine not loving him forever. He was kind, smart, perceptive, and had a work ethic second to none, in and out of the bedroom. He was even-tempered, quick to laugh, slow to judge, and she couldn’t find out what had happened between him and Steve. Neither man would explain.

  Despite the fact that the two were currently terse with each other, the team had worked until almost midnight taking the set apart for transport to the theater tomorrow. Her job had almost finished. The set designer had seen and approved her minor alterations and Jay would direct the move. She could decide to be there or take a day off if she chose.