by Maggie Ryan
Charles laughed, "That and the fact that he's teasing her about a possible lesson if that match making fails miserably."
"Tell Vi to set another place. I'd like to pretend I would have eventually discovered Venia on my own, but can't say I'm not grateful for the shove. She is funny, sweet, creative and attractive." As Charles nodded, Jeffrey grinned. "And she has agreed that she needs someone to keep her on track to meet her deadline."
"I see, and I'm guessing that someone is standing right before me?"
"Well, as you and Brent are constantly stating, we take care of our own."
"That we do," Charles said, "even when it takes a ridiculously long time for a certain someone to realize what certain jewels are in that community." With a grin, Charles slapped Jeffrey on the back and walked away. As Charles headed out, Jeffrey headed towards the library. If he couldn't find what he was looking for, he'd look in Denver tomorrow. He was actually counting on the community supporting each other as he found the proper aisle for fiction. Scanning the shelves, he was pleased to see several books written by Scarlett Rose. Pulling a few down, he almost chuckled at the covers. He hadn't been far off. Choosing the one that depicted what appeared to be a Fabio look alike with a half-naked woman clutched to his naked chest, he took it to the check-out counter.
"Not your usual choice," the clerk said as she accepted his library card.
"You never know," Jeffrey quipped. "I'd say the cover has to mean the book contains at least a bit of chemistry." He left her laughing as he tucked the book under his arm. Not truly believing it himself, he was actually looking forward to picking up his to-go order he'd phoned into The Pit and going home to spend the evening discovering more about how Venia's mind worked.
Hours later, the savory brisket sandwich had been devoured as well as Scarlett's book. Jeffrey shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. Closing his eyes, he had to admit his quip had been correct. The book had definitely contained some chemistry. Venia's words had the power to pull a man normally far more interested in the newest scientific discoveries into a world far different than one he'd ever considered. After rolling his eyes at the cover, he'd begun to skim the book, to find himself going back to the beginning to read more carefully.
Yes, there had been the ridiculously handsome hero who had appeared quite sinister as he approached the half-naked captive standing on the beach. Jeffrey had found it extremely easy not only to picture the poor damsel as she stood, shaking in her button up boots, he'd almost heard the rigging of the sails creaking in the wind as it buffeted the canvas. The book was set in the early 1700s when pirate ships were abundant. The details in the book gave proof that a great deal of research had been done. By the ending, the damsel discovered that Captain Blaine Boone was not truly a pirate, but rather an undercover agent for the English government. His mission was to attempt to foil a scheme in which pirates joined together to raid, pillage and plunder not only every ship that moved across the ocean, but evidently everything that moved once the outlaws went ashore. Looking again at the cover, he grinned. Yes, he could see why Blaine would risk his life for the beautiful Lady Charlotte. After all, what red blooded male, pirate or prince, could resist a woman of such comely beauty.
"Comely beauty?" Jeffrey said as he opened his eyes and set the book aside. "Jesus, man, forget Dude being a thing of the past. Now even Venia has you thinking in vernacular not heard for centuries." As he got ready for bed, he shook his head. Why on earth was such a talented author having creative problems? There hadn't been a single sentence that had made him stumble and wonder what the author might have meant. The dialogue had been sassy and interesting. Grinning, he thought of how it reminded him of Venia's sass and humor about the escaped frogs. Flipping off the light, above his chair, he moved into the bedroom and dropped his clothes. Once beneath the sheets, he turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling, not sure how much help he could be. Jeffrey had no doubt as to why her publisher was calling—the woman wrote best sellers for Pete's sake and had won some literary awards. He'd learned another thing about the woman he was falling ever deeper for—she was not only funny, beautiful, and creative—she was quite modest as well. Venia didn't have walls plastered with plaques or shelves filled with trophies she'd won for her accomplishments. Though she had stated she'd never been asked to do a book signing, he wondered if perhaps it had simply been her choice not to put herself out in public. After all, she wasn't writing under her own name. Was it that unusual for an author to want to retain anonymity?
As he drifted towards sleep he wondered what on earth had convinced her to write what sounded like it would be some farfetched story about moon germs. Chuckling, he turned onto his side, gazing at the empty space in front of him. If he had his way, that space wouldn't be empty for too much longer. Of course, he supposed that depended on if he were going to have to apply that promised stick to a certain author's ass. It was with a smile on his lips that he thought that both Scarlett and Rose could be considered as hues to describe that ass when she'd earned the stick over the carrot.
Chapter 10
Venia groaned as she found her earlier actions being repeated with yet another file sent to the cloud in the sky that appeared to have no silver lining. Glancing at the clock, she felt a shiver run up her spine. It was almost noon and she had absolutely nothing to show for the four hours she'd spent with her feet up. Thinking about Jeffrey's statement that she could well find herself wishing her ass could be elevated, she put her head in her hands.
"Shit, it's not like I'm trying to get a spanking," she mumbled, very aware of the thin protection of her panties and pajamas covering her shrinking backside. She'd hopped out of bed a little before eight actually eager to start work. After fixing a pot of coffee and eating a bowl of cereal, she'd taken her seat, opened her laptop and pulled up the template for her newest best seller. Unfortunately, nothing had appeared magically in her dreams the night before. Even with the lack of subconscious inspiration, she'd felt optimistic when she typed the working title 'Virus Vapor' on the first page. And now, four hours, later, she'd not only sent those pitiful words right back into the atmosphere, praying that the Goddess of authors was kind enough to filter and burn them before they infected her fans, she'd also deleted the chapters she'd written about an elaborate maze titled, 'Maze of Mutation'.
Setting her laptop aside, she went into the kitchen and prepared an egg salad sandwich, resisting the urge to dress and leave the house in search of lunch and distraction. Glancing at the clock on the wall again, she wondered exactly how serious Jeffrey had been about that 4,000 words. Plopping down in a chair, she gave another shudder. Since he told her to make sure there was a chair and an empty corner in her office, she had to believe he was quite serious indeed. Finishing her lunch, she stood and hesitated only a moment before dragging a chair through the house and down the hall. Setting it in the middle of a room she seldom used, she spent the next half-hour tidying up a bit. Moving a box containing office supplies out of a corner, she found herself making sure there wasn't a cobweb in the corner above her head. After all, she'd most likely be there before too long and wouldn't need the added worry that a spider might drop onto her. No, she'd be far too busy worrying about how a discipline spanking from the stern scientist would feel. Shaking her head, she glanced towards the shelves that contained copies of her books. Moving to run her hand along the spines, she felt her eyes well.
"What happened to you, Scarlett? You used to be my best friend. How could you abandon me in my hour of need?" Not hearing even a whisper of an explanation, Venia sighed and left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. Seeing a picture on the wall, one of Greg and Cecily flanking her as she held a plaque she'd been awarded for Unexpected Treasure, she thought about the secret mission her hero had undertaken. Touching the frame, she straightened her shoulders.
"You listen to me, Miss Rose, you might think this is an impossible mission, but, as God is my witness, you will come back from whatever island you ar
e sunning yourself on and help me." Visualizing her publisher's stern look as he listened to her pitiful attempt to excuse herself from making her deadline, she continued. "Even if you don't give a damn that Joseph is breathing down our necks or that it will be my ass paying the price, you'd do well to remember that we write for our fans. They are counting on us!"
Giggling as strains of the popular theme song for Mission Impossible played in her head accompanied by a slideshow of scenes from Gone With the Wind, she fixed a glass of tea and seated herself in her chair. Opening a new file, she thought for a moment and entered her next title, 'Moon Dust'. As her fingers began to tap the keys, she became lost in a world of outer space. She'd always been fascinated with space and the wonders depicted in films. Growing up with the advent of manned rockets rocketing to travel among the stars made it easy for her to imagine her heroine strapped into a seat, face hidden behind the visor of a space helmet. Not only had she looked forward to each episode of Star Trek, anticipating what Captain Kirk and Spock would discover as they went where no man had gone before, she had a crush on McCoy, the doctor. Of course, Scottie, the engineer, had been very attractive with that sexy accent. Then, again, she, along with the rest of the world, had sat glued to their black and white televisions to pray for some miracle to save the crew of Apollo 13. She remembered her parents breaking into sobs of relief when the parachute had landed, the capsule had opened and every crew member was welcomed back into the arms of the adoring public.
Realizing that her mind had drifted, she shook her head as she began a chapter where the lovely astronaut was being helped out of her cumbersome suit by the very attractive Chief Science Officer. On a whim, she changed his name from Edward to Einstein. Readers liked a bit of humor in a book, perhaps even more if reading a book about the imminent demise of the human race. As her heroine blushed when it was revealed that she had chosen to wear nothing inside her suit other than some sexy underwear, Venia squirmed a bit on her chair. Surely Einstein couldn't be upset that his fellow space traveler looked more like a Victoria Secret's model than some computer geek.
By the time she squirmed again, this time due to the fact that her bladder was protesting that third glass of tea, it was close to five o'clock. Saving her document, she took care of her needs and returned to the kitchen. Jeffrey had said he'd be by at six, leaving her just an hour to prepare the dinner she'd promised.
Pulling ingredients together for spaghetti and a salad, she was soon humming along to the radio as she chopped mushrooms and peppers to add to the sauce. Once it was bubbling on the stove, she returned to the bathroom to freshen up. She gave thanks to Lorelei again as she pulled her brush through her hair. Not only was it easier to tend to, it truly did frame her face and make her feel five years younger. Remembering Jeffrey's pleasure in her attire at lunch, she changed into a peasant blouse and a tiered skirt, slipping sandals onto her feet. It was with a smile as she went to the door when the bell rang.
"Hi," she said, opening the door to find Jeffrey on the doorstep. Her heart skipped a beat when he bent down and kissed her.
"Hi, yourself." Closing the door behind him, she followed him into the kitchen. "Where's your wine opener?" he asked, setting down the bottle of wine he'd brought.
"What, you are allowing me wine? Not worried that it might cloud my thoughts?" Venia teased as she passed him an opener and took two glasses out of the cabinet.
His eyes met hers as he worked the cork from the bottle. "I believe those clouds have passed over. As far as I'm concerned, the air is clear and there is no question about our agreement."
Venia accepted the glass he held out and took a sip. "Oh, this is delicious. It will go perfectly with dinner."
"Can I help?"
"No, I just need to cook the pasta and slide the bread into the oven. Why don't you tell me about your day?"
"I'd much rather hear about yours," Jeffrey said, casually leaning against the bar.
"There's no hurry, besides, I'm quite interested in science you know. How is Dina progressing on those water samples? Any lines squiggling off her slides?"
Jeffrey grinned as he watched her stirring the sauce as if whipping up a meringue. Despite her cheerful smile, he had a distinct feeling that she was attempting to distract him. He'd play along for a while, especially as her movements around her kitchen gave him an entertaining view as she bent to slide the bread into the oven, her skirt tightening against her bottom, but she'd discover that distraction worked for only so long.
"Dina is fine and didn't mention anything about bacteria that managed to escape the grip of agar. Nothing dramatic at all I'm afraid."
"Oh, well that's a bit disappointing," she teased as she moved a colander to the sink in preparation of draining the pasta. "I was hoping you'd have some story about a chemical mishap or something."
Moving to take the hot pads from her and picking up the large pot, he poured the pasta into the colander. "Sorry to disappoint. Nothing more dangerous than this steam," he said, stepping back to avoid getting a face full of the roiling vapor. Placing the pot into the other half of the sink, he turned to her. "How about we talk about whatever mutant beings you created today?"
"Um, why don't we eat first? I know you must hungry after working all day."
Jeffrey didn't protest. There was plenty of time to hear how her day had gone. She put the food on the table and as he pulled out her chair, he had no doubts that her day hadn't gone as well as both she and he had hoped. One of the matched chairs was missing and he imagined her moving it into her office as he'd directed. He didn't bother to mention it as he took his own seat. "This smells delicious, Venia."
"Thank you, I just threw it together."
The meal proved to taste as good as the aroma had promised when he'd entered her house. They didn't hurry, enjoying another glass of wine as they talked about many subjects—none involving books or her progress, he duly noted. When she stood to begin cleaning up, he leaned back in his chair after his offer to help was waved away.
"Okay, if you don't wish me to help, why don't you bring me your laptop?" His request had her momentarily freezing before she turned to him.
"Before I do, I feel I need to explain."
"Oh?" he said, his eyebrow lifting and his palm twitching. "You aren't about to weave some story about how mutant rats invaded your home and ate your hard drive are you?"
She rolled her eyes but giggled at the suggestion. "Mice—remember, not rats. Besides, that idea didn't go anywhere." Pausing for a moment, she put their plates in the soapy water. "As a matter of fact, you could say that the idea for a malfunctioning hood also went up in smoke."
"I see. I hope you are going to tell me that whatever plot you picked for your third attempt morphed into your required 4,000 words." It didn't take a PhD to know that he'd just hit the nail on the head as to the reason his little author was pretending that getting every spot of sauce off the plates was of the upmost importance. When she didn't answer, he stood and went to stand behind her, his arms dropping to encircle her waist.
"I asked you a question, Venia. Exactly how many words did you type today?"
He felt her sag against him. Though he knew that he wasn't going to like her answer, he was glad to see that she wasn't attempting to distance herself from his embrace. "Come on, sweetie, it can't be that bad."
After placing the last rinsed dish in the drainer, she turned in his arms. Looking down, he saw the conflict she was feeling warring with tears in her eyes. Moving one hand to cup her cheek, he bent to give her a kiss. By the time he pulled away, her eyes were clearer and her cheeks flushed. Taking her hand, he led her out of the kitchen. At her slight resistance, he had an idea that she was picturing being taken to her office and paddled. The reaction removed any doubt that she would find herself standing in the corner, reddened rear on display, but that could wait. He considered himself a fair man and would give her the opportunity to explain why she'd failed to stay on the track they'd agreed on.
Taki
ng a seat in her recliner, he pulled her down onto his lap. Holding her against his chest, he was pleased when she tucked her head beneath his chin and began to speak.
"I probably typed at least 10,000 words."
A bit surprised, he gave her a smile. "Honey, that's great. It's over twice the amount we agreed on." Though he'd meant the praise, her crestfallen look told him that she wasn't accepting of his words.
"Don't, um, I mean I don't deserve praise." Looking away for a moment, she met his eyes again. "I deleted the majority of that 10,000." She told him how she'd been so excited that morning, how she wanted to make him proud. He listened as she explained that 'Virus Vapor' had been vaporized with a push of a button and how she'd decided once and for all that mutant mice was simply not going to work.
Moving slightly, she looked up at him. "I was really depressed but after I ate lunch and, um, prepared the office, I had a little talk with my muse."
Jeffrey knew not to make light of that admission. "And did that help?"
"Well, I can't say that Scarlett was very cooperative, but I did start over and wrote until it was time to start dinner."
"That was very responsible of you," he said, bending down to kiss her forehead. "Show me, please." He was proud when she didn't protest and reached for the laptop. When she made a move to climb off his lap, he tightened his hold. "Where are you going?"
"I figure that since you are going to be upset, I might as well go stand in the corner."
"Venia, our agreement was that you write 4,000 words, and honey, you did that. Granted, you admitted that you deleted most of your work, but you did keep your part of the bargain. I don't understand why you are assuming that I'll be upset much less why you believe you deserve to be punished."
With a soft sigh, she shook her head. "As much as I'd like to thank you for that, I can't accept your leniency." Pausing, she looked at the laptop and then lifted her eyes to his. "It would be far too easy to allow myself just to type all sorts of random drivel, even knowing it was trash, just to make my word count. I need you to keep me in line, Jeffrey. Does that make any sense to you at all?"