The Plane and the Parade (Veronica Barry Book 3)

by Sophia Martin

  “Eleven thousand?”

  “I know! He says he has money in his budget to pay for a guide and I’m his guide—”

  “Veronica, I don’t think tour guides make that kind of money!”

  “He said it was supposed to go for English lessons. And it’s true he doesn’t need them,” Veronica said.

  Melanie let out a loud exhalation and didn’t speak for a moment. Then she said, “Look, you know what this means. You know a man doesn’t spend eleven thousand dollars on someone unless he wants something more than a tour guide.”

  “Wow, you make it sound like he’s paying for me like a call girl.”

  “No, not exactly. I’m just saying… eleven thousand dollars is an investment, V. Eric obviously really likes you. As more than a friend. You know what I mean? This isn’t just some rich guy show-off thing.”

  Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose. “So you think I should refuse the dress. I should go out there and tell him, ‘Sorry, I can’t go to the party with you.’”

  “I don’t know, hon. What do you want to do?”

  “I already told him Daniel wouldn’t like it—he knows I’m in a relationship—”

  “Veronica. Honey. From the stories you’ve told me about this guy, the one thing I’m sure I know about him is that fidelity isn’t exactly one of his strong suits.”

  With a groan, Veronica cast her eyes to the ceiling. “Okay, I know you’re right. It’s just really, really hard to have this dress dangled in front of my face and to turn it down.”

  “I know, V. But you’re a strong woman. I believe in you.”

  Veronica ended the call and turned back to the mirror, giving herself a scowl. “This sucks,” she told her reflection.

  When she found her way back down the corridor, Marian met her, taking her elbow companionably again.

  “Uh,” Veronica said, “I’m sorry. I can’t try on the dress. It’s just too much.”

  The woman peered at her with a knowing look. “He’s offering you quite a gift, isn’t he, dear?”

  Veronica nodded, eyes wide. “Yes, one I can’t accept.”

  Marian patted her arm. “Just try the dress on once,” she said. “Just for fun. It won’t cost you or him a dime. And I bet it’s not something you get to do every day.”

  With a whimper, Veronica allowed the saleslady to steer her into the dressing room.

  “See how gorgeous it is?” Marian asked, and Veronica stopped still in front of the dress again. It hung on the wall, taunting her. “Sequin embroidered silk taffeta,” the saleswoman said. “Strapless with a low waist, and a very becoming A-line skirt.”

  “You’re evil,” Veronica said, more to the dress than the woman. The latter chuckled and went to the dress, plucking the edge of the hem and spreading the dark navy skirt appealingly.

  “Just try it on. Maybe it won’t fit.”

  With a sigh, Veronica began removing her clothes.

  ~~~

  “Quelle beauté,” Eric said with a short whistle. He stood up from the couch as Veronica came to a standstill in the center of its semi-circle. In one hand he held a glass of champagne. They were certainly taking care of him. And who could blame them?

  Veronica turned from Eric to the panels of mirrors, and her throat tightened as she gazed at herself. She would never look like Audrey Hepburn—although their coloring was similar, they were two different types. Hepburn’s slight silhouette and pixie-like face had little in common with Veronica’s figure eight body and rounded forehead and gently curved, aquiline nose. But this gown… it tricked the eye into seeing her as slender, the A-line skirt de-emphasizing her hips, and the fitted bodice complimenting her graceful shoulders and collarbones. She loved herself in this dress.

  Eric circled her and then reached out, catching a handful of her hair. He twisted loosely atop her head. Veronica managed to hide the shiver this provoked, although her skin must have shown the goose bumps that resulted. “A chignon, I think,” he said, “to show the neck. Do you have a necklace, Vero? Perhaps a tight one, what are they called?”

  “A choker,” Marian supplied.

  “Yes, exactly,” Eric agreed.

  Veronica glanced at him and shook her head. “No, no jewelry, Eric.”

  “Oh come now, ma chérie, we must complete the picture.”

  “Eric, I can’t…”

  “Perhaps some costume jewelry would make the lady feel more comfortable,” put in the saleswoman. “We have some very pretty pieces in Accessories, and they aren’t so pricey.”

  “And of course, shoes,” Eric said.

  “I can have Jenny bring some here.” Marian asked.

  “Uh…” said Veronica.

  “And I’ll call Accessories. Swing by there, too, Jenny. I think I know just the thing,” the saleswoman continued. “Shoe size?” she asked Veronica.

  “I—uh—I really can’t do this—”

  “Oh, it’ll be fun,” Marian said smiling at her. “We’ll just try it all on, get the whole effect.”

  “Go on, Vero. Make me happy and try it all,” Eric said.

  He, Marian, and Jenny all looked at her expectantly, and what little resolve she had left crumbled under their combined hopefulness. “I wear a size eight.”

  “Jenny, the crystal-covered T-straps by Fendi, in white, the Valentino Napa pumps in black, and the Kate Spade Corinne peep-toes in navy and silver,” Marian said, and the younger woman nodded and hurried off. Marian made her way to a phone on the wall. She put the handset to her ear, dialed, and after less than ten seconds, spoke into it. “Diane. I need the Saint John silvertone crystal choker necklace. And the drop earrings to go with it. Yes. Jenny will be by shortly.” She turned to Eric and Veronica. “Champagne?”

  ~~~

  “Eric, I really need to say something,” Veronica began as they sat down for lunch at a Café Madeleine, just a few blocks from Neiman Marcus.

  “Please do,” Eric said, opening it menu so it lay flat in front of him.

  She sighed. “I really appreciate your bringing me here and showing me such a good time at the store, but I can’t accept the gown or the shoes or the jewelry. We have to go back and return everything.”

  “Mais non, Vero…”

  “Mais si! I’m—I’m on the verge of getting engaged, Eric. I can’t let this go any further with you. I can’t accept the gown, and I can’t go to the party, and it’s probably best if once we’re back in Sacramento, we go our separate ways.” She brushed her hair out of her face with her hands. “It was—it was so much fun to drive with you and come here today and try on the gown—the gown is so beautiful, but I just can’t let this go any further.”

  Eric gazed at her for a moment, his expression serious. “I see that I must tell you something, Vero. I did not wish to do so, for it is very sad, and I hoped to be nothing but care-free here in the U.S. But I must reassure you. I am not here to seduce you, I promise. I am only playing, because I have been sad for so long. I, too, was engaged. And my fiancée, she left, not long ago. It was in May.”

  “Oh,” Veronica said. “I’m sorry.”

  “We made plans, to come here together,” Eric said. “I lied to you when I told you I would pay for the gown with money from my budget. It is my money. But it was supposed to be for her. And she is not here, now. I know you are not available, but it is okay. I expect nothing. I just want to go to the soirée, make a good impression, and have some fun. Please, allow me my small revenge on her in buying you these things.”

  “Oh,” Veronica said again. Her mind whirled, trying to be rational. Could she even believe him? And why not? Eric wasn’t some criminal mastermind, bent on what—romancing her to death? Stealing her from Daniel? Who was she kidding? The gifts were his revenge against the fiancée that had dumped him. All he wanted was to have some fun at this party. That didn’t sound so bad. And he knew that she was committed to Daniel, he said so himself.

  “Please, let us order our lunch,” Eric said. “You can think it ov
er while we dine.”

  Shaking her head, Veronica picked up her menu. “Okay,” she said with a sigh.

  “Thank you,” Eric said with a grin. “This has all been very amusing for me, as well, you know. And once my work begins, I will not have so much time for fun things. Already I must plan for another trip. It is so tiresome.”

  Veronica frowned and looked at him. He was looking at the menu and didn’t raise his eyes. “Another trip?”

  “Oh, yes. I hate aeroplanes. Everyone is packed like sardines.”

  “You’re taking a plane?”

  Eric nodded, glancing up at her.

  “When?” Veronica asked, feeling like her stomach had dropped out of her body.

  “Monday,” he said.

  “Really? Monday?” Veronica set down her menu. She could almost hear the horrid whine of the airplane diving in her nightmare. “Um, why so soon?”

  “Oh, it is business, of course. So tiresome.”

  “Eric, maybe you shouldn’t go.” The passengers screaming. The oxygen masks deploying. “I mean, you’ve just come to Sacramento, and we haven’t even had a chance to look for an apartment.”

  “I will be back at the end of the week, Vero,” he said, his lazy grin breaking over his face like the sun coming out.

  His words didn’t register. Images of the whiskey cup shattering, the baggage tumbling out of the overhead bins filled her mind. “Eric, don’t go,” Veronica heard herself say. “You can’t possibly need to go back to France so soon.”

  “France?” Eric said. “Oh no, I am flying to Los Angeles. I have several meetings there next week. I will be back by Thursday or Friday.”

  Veronica tried to process this. Not going to France? But the announcements over the plane’s PA system were both in French and English. Surely no flight from Sacramento to Los Angeles would do that.

  “You’re going to LA?” she said.

  “Yes,” Eric said. “I will be gone for four, maybe five days. I shall miss you as well, don’t worry.”

  Veronica closed her eyes and nodded, then made a show of staring at her menu. Divine, she thought. Not only have I been interpreting that dream wrong, but now Eric thinks I’m so desperate to hang out with him that I freaked out over his little jaunt to LA.

  But had she really misinterpreted the dream? It might still be a flight to France, one he would take down the road. What else could it be? Who else did she know who was likely to be on a flight where they translated announcements into French and English?

  The answer to that question eluded her. Chewing on her lower lip, she made an effort to choose an entrée before the server came. Another mystery to solve, she supposed.

  ~~~

  Melanie called a few minutes after Eric dropped Veronica off at her duplex. It was four-thirty.

  “Are we on for yoga?” Melanie asked.

  “Yes,” Veronica said, still feeling overwhelmed by the events of the day. She went to the fridge and pulled the apple juice out, wishing, once again, that it was a bottle of white wine.

  “Okay, good. Um, did you refuse to let him buy you the dress?”

  “Yes. Several times. But he did it anyway,” Veronica said, unscrewing the lid.

  “Oh, V.”

  Veronica rolled her eyes, the phone tucked between her ear and shoulder. “I know, Mellie. I know. But somehow, I just couldn’t make it all stop.” She found a glass in the cabinet and poured the juice.

  “Or you didn’t really want to.”

  “What do you want me to say? Let’s see you turn down the most beautiful dress you’ve ever tried on, not to mention Kate Spade pumps and a crystal chocker with matching ‘ear drops.’ Ear drops, Melanie. Not just earrings.”

  “Kate Spade pumps?”

  “Peep-toes,” Veronica said after a sip. “They. Are. Beautiful.”

  “I bet they are,” Melanie said, and Veronica was gratified to hear a note of wistfulness in her voice.

  “You can come home with me after yoga and try them on,” Veronica said. Melanie’s feet were a half-size larger than hers, but she wouldn’t care if the shoes pinched her toes once she got a look at them.

  “I called Daniel,” Melanie said.

  “You did what?”

  “After you called me from Bloomingdale’s.”

  “Neiman Marcus.”

  “Same dif. I told him he was being a doufus just sitting back and letting Eric sweep you off your feet.”

  “Oh really.”

  “Yes. And I told him it’s no wonder. You haven’t had any fun in months. So Eric takes you in these convertibles for test drives and now shopping in SF and then that party. I told him you aren’t made of stone.”

  Veronica set the glass down and rubbed a hand over her face. “And how did that go over?”

  “Maybe not as well as I’d hoped.”

  “No kidding.”

  “Well, I think he got a little insecure when I told him Eric was trying to buy you an eleven thousand dollar dress, V. He can’t compete with that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said…” Melanie’s voice trailed off.

  “What? What Melanie?”

  Melanie sighed. “It’s not very nice, hon.”

  “Just say it.”

  “He said, ‘If she’s that easy to buy, let him have her.’”

  Veronica nodded, pursing her lips. She leaned back against the counter.

  “V? Veronica, are you still there?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’m here.”

  “You’re pissed. You’re pissed I called him.”

  “That’s one reason I’m pissed,” Veronica said.

  “You’re pissed I told him about the dress.”

  “You know, if you could figure that out, why did you do it in the first place?”

  “Because I can’t just sit by and watch you ruin a great relationship with Daniel for this Eric guy. You told me yourself he tried to fool around with you when he was still dating your friend!”

  Veronica kicked her heel against the cabinet behind her. “That was thirteen years ago, Melanie. We were kids! Who knows what he’s like now? I don’t! And I haven’t gotten any psychic stuff about him—don’t you think the spirits would warn me if he was bad news? I’m just starting to get to know him. I like him, Mel. And not because of the fancy cars and the gifts, although honestly, those don’t hurt. But even without that stuff, I always liked him. He’s so charming, and so sexy, and he’s done all this amazing stuff, and he likes me.”

  “Daniel loves you, V.”

  “Really? So why did he just walk out the other morning? Why hasn’t he called me? Why is he so quick to just give me up and write me off as ‘easy to buy’?”

  “He was just mad, hon.”

  “Yeah, which he wouldn’t have been, if you hadn’t told him.”

  “I’m sorry,” Melanie said.

  Veronica shook her head. “You know, this thing is complicated enough without a fourth party getting involved, Melanie.”

  There was silence on the other end and Veronica felt a stab of guilt. Melanie wasn’t just any “fourth party,” and she was just trying to help. But Veronica’s anger still flared at what Melanie had done. She hadn’t decided whether she would ever tell Daniel about Eric’s gifts, and now, the choice had been taken from her.

  “Look, I don’t think I’m going to yoga after all,” Veronica said.

  “Yeah, okay,” Melanie responded.

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Sure. Bye.”

  Chapter 14

  Veronica spent a quiet Friday at home with her pets. She took Harry for a walk around McKinley in the afternoon, and then took a quick trip to the Arden area shops for a wide navy ribbon and some new make-up. At six she took a shower and started getting ready. Veronica knew exactly how she wanted her hair and make-up to look. Sabrina came out in the mid-fifties, but she wanted more of a sixties feel. The trouble was, she rarely wore make-up and it had been so long since she’d p
ut her hair up in a French twist that she was afraid she’d forgotten how. With her second attempt she was able to get her hair to sit high enough on her head for a sixties effect. With the addition of the dark blue ribbon, she was very pleased. She drew cat-eye lines on her lids with black liquid eyeliner, and applied pale pink to her lips. Then she added the eardrops and the choker. She pulled on the gown, and with a little jiggling and twisting she managed to zip it up herself. Then the Kate Spade peep-toes, and she was complete.

  Running a hand regretfully over the skin of her left arm, Veronica gazed at herself in the long mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. In Sabrina, Hepburn had also worn elbow-length white satin gloves, but no one wore those now unless they were in costume or getting married. When she got married someday she would wear elbow-length gloves, Veronica promised herself. She reached for the black satin clutch (one she already owned), tucked in her wallet and phone, and allowed herself to take in the full effect of her ensemble. Her skin, still milky despite the afternoon she’d spent at Folsom, thanks to sunscreen, looked luminous contrasting with the dark navy blue of the dress. The pumps gave her posture a lift and she pushed back her shoulders. She looked graceful and sensuous.

  Was it worth it? Was it worth Daniel’s anger and the possibility of losing her relationship with him? She felt more beautiful than she ever had in her entire life, but was it worth it?

  How could he begrudge her this? It was just one night. She wasn’t going to do anything deceitful or unfaithful. Eric knew she wasn’t, and he gave her the gown and everything else anyway. He was a friend. He had his own reasons for showering her with all of this—it was his indirect revenge, after all.

  Did she have feelings for him? Yes. Was she going to act on them? No.

  Why couldn’t Daniel trust her? Instead of trusting her, he got angry and left. Instead of trying to understand how special the gown made her feel, he told Melanie she was easily bought.

  The doorbell rang.

  Veronica gave herself one last satisfying once-over and went to answer it.