by Sable Sylvan
Alice heard a countdown. People were shouting. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
“I’m close,” he said huskily. “I can’t hold back much longer.”
Six, Five, Four…
“Then don’t,” said Alice, pulling the man closer to her as she felt the energy that built up inside of her let loose, rocking her hips against his waist like a wave against a rock in a storm…
Alice couldn’t get the thought of the recurring dream out of her head. She tried to clean to distract herself, but every rub of the dish towel against the wet dishes reminded her of the way the mysterious man had rubbed her skin. The doorbell rang, and she quickly looked at her reflection in the microwave glass and made sure she looked presentable before going to answer the door.
Alice was not the first person to get to the door. No, it was Abigail, who had been hanging out with the other three sisters in the living room. They were all in their pajamas and were looking for something interesting to watch, but all that was on was reruns.
Alice walked into the foyer and saw that Abigail already had her hands on her hips and was giving Herbert a piece of her mind.
“And you’re going to have her back by…?” asked Abigail.
“I can’t make any promises,” said Herbert. “But I’ll make sure she gets home in one piece.”
“Ha-ha, real funny, shifter,” said Abigail, crossing her arms and giving Herbert the once over.
Alice looked over Herbert. Was he wearing a suit? She hadn’t expected him to look that fancy! He even had on a tie and cufflinks, and was that a pocket square? Yup, he had a pocket square, nice leather shoes, and a watch that looked like it cost more than the Quincy house.
“Hey,” said Alice. “You look─”
“Not as breathtaking as you do,” said Herbert, looking at Alice and almost dropping what was in his hands. “Looks like I won first prize after all.”
Alice had always taken his breath away. That much he could admit. From the moment they first met, when she was giving him a piece of her mind in her formal black clothes that, as frumpy as they were, couldn’t hide her ample curves, to their second meeting where she had been wearing shorts, a tight tank, and even with a mommy purse, looked like sex on legs, to their third meeting at the cook-off, where the apron had covered her body but couldn’t cover her shapely bosom or hips, he had felt something for her. He had thought it had to just be animal magnetism. After all, what kind of shifter could resist a woman with birthing hips, with cushion for the pushing?
But this Alice…this was not an Alice he had met. This was not Alice-in-mourning. This wasn’t Alice-at-the-fair, nor was it Alice-the-workaholic-chef-out-for-a-vengeance. No, this was Alice. Her hair usually pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail, was loose, hitting her curved shoulders. Her face had been made up, but the makeup wasn’t what mattered. There was a vulnerability behind the mascara and blush which made him feel as if he needed nothing more than to protect Alice from all the evils in the world, even if that include him.
“If this is second, I can’t complain. But…you look formal,” said Alice, crossing her arms. “I don’t know where we’ll be going where you won’t be totally and entirely overdressed. It’s tacky, you know.”
“I know,” said Herbert with a smile. “Trust me, I know. And trust me, I won’t be overdressed, although, will you be a bit chilly in that?”
Alice looked down. She was wearing a gingham dress with cap sleeves that she had borrowed from Addison, and while she felt like she belonged in a bad production of some hokey play set on a prairie, she wasn’t chilly.
“Why would I be chilly?” asked Alice. “It’s eighty degrees, and it’s eight at night.”
“I run hot,” said Herbert. “Shifter, you know. So, I wanted to make sure you didn’t need to grab a jacket before we left.”
“It might get cold,” admitted Alice. “I’ll grab a hoodie, and we can go.”
“Wait just a hot minute,” said Abigail. “I want to know what Herbert intends on doing with you tonight.”
“Abby!” hissed Alice.
“No, your sister’s right. She should know what I have in store for you tonight,” said Herbert. “I’m going to take your sister out for a meal, then, I thought we could go to the lake, look at the ducks, then go get dessert, maybe drinks, and I’d drop her off afterward.”
“Uh-huh, is that all?” asked Alice. “Well, riddle me this, Scoville. If you’re gonna drink, who is gonna drive?”
“What?” asked Herbert. “Oh. Oh! I see. Well, look in the driveway. I think that’ll answer your question.”
Abigail peaked out the door and looked at Herbert, then back out the door.
“Is this a joke?” asked Abigail.
“No,” said Herbert. “This is very standard for a date, at least, in my world.”
“What is it?” asked Alice, walking to the door. She peeked out and couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Was that a stretch frikkin’ limo in the driveway? It was nearly too long to fit in the drive! It was all black and chrome, and there was a driver in the front seat, reading a newspaper.
“Okay, well…shizz, I can’t think of anything else,” said Abigail.
“There is one last thing,” said Herbert. “Here.”
Herbert reached to the table that was on the porch. He hadn’t been let in by Abigail, who had been by the front door, while Alice had been watching from inside the foyer. Herbert picked up a box of DVD cases and passed it to Abigail.
“What the heck is this?” asked Abigail.
“Some movies, French, very romantic,” said Herbert. “I know you girls are going back to college soon, so, I thought given I was stealing Alice from you, the least I could do was give you all something to do in her absence. Also, do you like a local pizzeria, ‘Charlotte’s Pies’?”
“Uh, yes, it’s the best pizza in town,” said Abigail. “Why?”
“I gave them my card, and they’ve started a tab,” said Herbert. “There are menus in the box. Just call them and tell them to put it on the Scoville account.”
“Wait, so you just, for no reason, are paying for our pizza and giving us some DVDs?” asked Abigail. “Is this a trick, Scoville?”
“That’s an interesting way of saying ‘thank you,’” said Herbert. “I guess when in America, do as the Americans do, so, thank you, Abby, and please, do call me Herb, I insist.”
Abigail couldn’t help but shake her head and smile.
“You know, what Sco--, I mean, Herb? You’re all right,” said Abigail. “All right, Alice. I gave’m the third degree, and he passed. So I guess you’ve got a date to be going on.”
“Thanks,” said Alice, giving Abigail a hug before grabbing one of her hoodies off of the coat rack.
“Shall we?” asked Herbert, offering Alice his arm.
“We shall,” admitted Alice, taking Herbert’s arm and walking to the driveway.
Herbert opened the door and let Alice in. Alice had to admit she was impressed that Herbert didn’t have the driver open the door for them.
“So are we eating in town or…?” asked Alice. She looked around the limo. There were leather seats, some LED lighting strips along the carpeted floor, and a minibar set up. She’d been in a limo before, and this one wasn’t super fancy. This must’ve been the best Bright Star County had to offer.
“Yes, somewhere you haven’t been,” said Herbert.
“I highly doubt that,” said Alice. “Fallowedirt’s not that big, you know. I’ve probably been to every restaurant in town. Wait, no. I know I’ve been to every restaurant in Fallowedirt.”
“Well, you haven’t been to this place,” said Herbert.
“What, the Burgerteria?” asked Alice.
“Where?” asked Herbert.
“Burgerteria, the cafeteria that sells burgers, near the high school,” said Alice.
“Why would I take you to a fast food restaurant in a limousine?” said Herbert. “That would be massively inappropriate.”
“Because your goal is to humiliate me and show me up,” said Alice. “Duh.”
“You’re wrong,” said Herbert. “You are so, so wrong.”
“Come on, Herbert. I know that this is all just an elaborate set-up,” said Alice. “We might as well stop wasting our time. Let’s get to the part where you think you’ve tricked me by pulling some gag out of your ass, I cry, you say something snippy, I sass you, and I get dropped off at home and figure out a way to beat you in court.”
“You think that this is a game? That I didn’t drop the court case?” asked Herbert, genuinely confused, and more than a little hurt.
“Well, yeah,” said Alice. “What, you’re telling me that this isn’t some complex ruse to show me up, in the name of our grandfathers’ rivalry?”
“No, it’s not,” said Herbert.
“Yeah, right,” said Alice, scoffing and rolling her eyes.
“You seem to be operating under a severe misunderstanding of what this is,” said Herbert. “So, Alice, let me spell it out for you. I’m going to take you on a date, the best date of your life. You and I, we’re not going to have a good time or even a great time. We’re gonna have a wonderful time. No date you ever have after this will be able to compare with this date. I’m going to woo you, wine you, and of course, dine you. You’ll be treated like the lady you are, for the first time in your life. You think you can handle that, or would you prefer that I take you to, what did you say, a fast food restaurant?”
“So, we’re really going on a date?” asked Alice, still suspicious.
“Yes,” said Herbert.
“And you really dropped the suit?” asked Alice.
“Well, technically, I never actually filed it,” said Herbert. “My grandfather had his lawyers put together the documents. I was supposed to submit them to a legal team in Dallas, after talking things over with you and trying to settle this without needing to get the legal system involved. Given that we didn’t exactly settle anything, I never gave the lawyers the papers.”
“You mean this entire time, you’ve just been dicking around in Fallowedirt, going to the county fair and the cook-off, because you have nothing better to do?” asked Alice. “Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m just crazy about you,” said Herbert. “But you didn’t hear that, of course.”
“Crazy about me? Then how come you treat me like dirt?” asked Alice.
“Treat you like dirt? I thought we had banter,” said Herbert. “Do you really think that I think you’re worthless?”
“You treat me like I am,” said Alice. “Why else would you challenge me to a frikkin’ cook-off and ask me on a date? It’s a power thing.”
“Are you forgetting that I didn’t challenge you to the cook-off? You’re the one who challenged me. I accepted because I see you as my equal,” said Herbert. “And sometimes, equals are rivals. And sometimes, equals go on dates. Sometimes both.”
“So you don’t hate me?” asked Alice.
“No, do you hate me?” asked Herbert. “Alice, before you answer, know this. Whatever your answer, there will be no suit. I’ll convince my grandfather to shut up about the rivalry and leave the Quincy family alone. After all, he needs an heir more than I need him. If you want, I will get out of this limo right now, and the driver can take you home. Those are my cards, all of them, face up, on the table. So. Do you hate me?”
“No,” said Alice. “I’ve actually kinda had a crush on you. But you’re really going to stand up to your grandfather?”
“Yes,” said Herbert. “I told you. He needs an heir. I don’t need the money.”
“You don’t need the money?” asked Alice. “Herbert, that’s billions of dollars you would be giving up, for a girl you barely even know.”
“Something’s telling me that I’d be getting the better end of the deal,” said Herbert. “And remember, even if my grandfather takes away my inheritance, he can’t take away things like my college education, my strong resume, my business acumen. I’ll be fine. Scovilles always are.”
“I hope the Quincys are too,” said Alice. “I have no idea what I’m going to do about the company.”
“Well, you did sell a lot of sauce at the fair, right?” asked Herbert. “You must’ve. Everyone adored your sauce.”
“At the fair?” asked Alice. “No, we weren’t selling sauce at the fair.”
“Wait, you went to the fair, representing your company, and you didn’t bring any product to sell?” asked Herbert. “Alice, you could’ve at least made a few thousand dollars that day. Hundreds of potential customers sampled your food. Thousands of people were at the fair.”
“What?!” said Alice. “Ugh. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“What was your major in college?” asked Herbert.
“Film studies,” said Alice. “I love watching movies, and I thought I’d be heading to Los Angeles after college, not back to Fallowedirt to help my grandpa run the store. He ran it until the day he…well, you know.”
“My condolences,” said Herbert. “You don’t have to run the store by yourself just because your grandpa is gone. I can help you, Alice. I have connections to everyone worth knowing, capital that’s rotting in the bank and burning a hole in my pocket, and a master’s in business administration.”
“You have an MBA?” asked Alice suspiciously. “Aren’t we the same age?”
“Yes, but, I didn’t have to work over summers, or frankly, at all, so I always had my nose in books,” said Herbert. “I didn’t take summer breaks, so I was able to get an MBA.”
“You didn’t work over the summers?” asked Alice. “That must’ve been nice.”
“No, I said I didn’t have to work over summers,” said Herbert. “I worked anyway. I’m a polar bear, baby. I can’t just sit around on my ass. I need to go out and do something, whether it’s hunting for fish in the ocean, or hunting down a government contract.”
The divider between the driver and the passengers came down.
“Sir, we’re here,” said the driver.
Herbert got out of the car and opened the door for Alice.
What Alice saw when her feet hit the ground took her breath away.
Chapter Seven
They were on the lookout hill that looked out over the small town of Fallowedirt. She could almost see every town in Bright Star County from up here, but that wasn’t what she was looking for. No, Alice was looking at something else entirely.
The lookout hill usually had a picnic table, usually being the operative word. A few times a year, local teens would send the table down the hill, and it would get destroyed. It was practically tradition.
What was set up was no picnic table.
There was a large gazebo. The path between the car and the gazebo was dotted with red rose petals, deep red, scandalously deep red, the shade of red that isn’t used for Valentine’s Day cards or ads for cherries, but the shade of red used for women’s lipstick and lingerie that made people blush. The roses led to the large wooden gazebo, which had a white tablecloth covered table and two chairs. One of the chairs had artificial roses all over the back, and the table and chairs were on a fake grass carpet.
“You did all this for me?” asked Alice.
“Yes, but there’s more,” said Herbert. “Come.”
Herbert took Alice by the hand and pulled out her chair for her once they reached the gazebo. He sat across from her, and on cue, a waiter came.
“Hello, I’ll be your server tonight,” said the waiter, lighting a tea light between the couple. “We’ll be serving a selection of Nordic specialties for you tonight, a sampling of dishes from all over Northern Europe. Of course, Master Scoville arranged the menu.” Alice noticed the man had the same accent as Herbert.
“You did?” asked Alice, looking over at Herbert who couldn’t help but smile with pride.
“That’s right,” said the waiter. “He’s a shifter with impeccable taste, and of course, only the best is good enough for Master Scoville, which
is why he flew in his personal staff for this occasion. I’ll be starting you two off with some Scandinavian sparkling apple wine.”
“You flew in your personal staff?” asked Alice. “Wait…you have a personal staff?”
“Yes, and I have since I was sixteen,” said Herbert. “You see, my grandfather thinks it’s important to gain a rapport with one’s employees early on. Hold over from the Viking Age, you know?”
“No, I don’t really know,” admitted Alice.
“The Scoville clan traces its roots to the Viking Age,” explained Herbert. “Vikings had chiefs, who led villages and led raids and hunts. With that power came responsibility. Today, we don’t have chiefs with subjects…there are employers and employees. That means that we must treat and care for our staff the same way we want them to treat and care for us. Many forget that, but Scovilles do not forget. How am I to be the employer of dozens of thousands of employees if I cannot even handle a household of staff?”
“A household?” asked Alice. “You have a house?”
“Uh, to be fair, I have more than a house,” admitted Herbert. “There is the Scoville Manor in Oslo, which is where the company is headquartered, of course. Scovillenavia is the formal company name because it’s a mix of my surname and the Scandinavian region’s name.”
“Your wine,” said the waiter, pouring each of them some sparkling apple wine. The waiter left and came back with a set of small dishes, including small slices of hard, crusty bread, smoked salmon, purple jam, and a bunch of things that Alice didn’t recognize, but that looked delicious.
“Oh, it’s…a smörgåsbord?” guessed Alice.
“Yes, but, that’s what the Swedes call it, it means ‘sandwich board,’” explained Herbert. “In Norway, we call it the koldtbord, a cold board.”
“Oh, sorry,” apologized Alice.
“Don’t be,” said Herbert. “I’ve been called much worse things than a Swede.”