Sweet but Sexy Boxed Set

by Maddie James

  She turned to the older woman. “I can’t believe you’re saying that. You know what I came from.”

  Annie’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Cheris gestured to herself. “Come on. I’ve told you about my childhood. I’m a bastard child out of Athens County.”

  Annie sniffed. “You’ve become better than just that, my dear.”

  “Maybe so, but I’ll never fit in with eating petit fours on real bone china.” Cheris stood and pushed the chair away from her. “Not ever. Excuse me, Annie. I’ve got to go.” Picking up her purse, she marched out of the room.

  ****

  Cheris drove over to Web Enterprises and bounded into Bill’s office. He sat behind his desk with his ear plastered to his telephone yapping to some stupid person about Windfire web speed. She folded her arms and glared at him until he hung up and rounded the desk with arms outstretched.

  “How’s the wedded woman today, huh?”

  Cheris pointed at him. “Don’t you pull that with me. How dare you launch a marketing campaign using my marriage.”

  Bill rocked back on his heels. “Cheris, it’s perfect.” He grinned.

  “No, it isn’t. This is my life you’re prostituting, and I won’t have it. I’ll quit before I let you use me and Geoff to pad Milton’s Stewart’s pockets.”

  Bill shook his head. “You’ve got me all wrong here. We’re on borrowed time with Hip Granny. We need to—”

  “‘Keep it current. No flash in the pan for us.’ I’ve heard it all before, and you’re not going to use my private life to do it. I want that video taken off the site.”

  “Babe…”

  Cheris shot him a murderous look at his endearment.

  “Sorry. Cheris, that video is not your property.”

  “It’s got me in it.”

  “And as an employee you signed a contract giving Net Enterprises permission to broadcast you on our website.”

  “For tutorials,” she defended.

  “In what capacity is not specified, especially when it is Stewart making the video.”

  “No way.”

  “Way, Mrs. Arrowood. This was his idea.” Bill placed his hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off. He waved his hand to the door. “Now, then. This is still your honeymoon. People don’t work on their honeymoon. When you get back next week, we’ll negotiate your promotion.”

  Cheris raised her face in disdain. “I quit.”

  Bill threw his head back and laughed. “You want to resign? Come back next week and do it on company time.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “You might be, too, as I’m sure you’d like nothing better than to shop all day and live out the Cullsbaeir version of Desperate Housewives.”

  “I don’t like you very much.”

  “You and my three ex-wives. Why don’t you all start a club? Get. Get. Get. Out of here and the premises. Don’t make me call security.” He shooed her out of his office and closed the door behind her.

  Cheris meandered through the building just so Bill wouldn’t think he could bully her about everything. As she passed her cubicle, she ducked in it and sat at her chair. Pulling herself up to her monitor, she pressed the power button drumming her fingers impatiently on the keyboard as she waited for it to start.

  Fine. He wouldn’t take off the video. She would.

  She logged in to her computer and entered her password.

  A pop-up appeared on her screen.

  Access denied

  What?

  “Sorry.” Rhoderman Crantz, her co-worker, peered at her from over his side of the cubicle. “Bill made me wall your input until he meets with you next week.”

  “Rhoderman!”

  He hung his head and peered at her with his big puppy dog eyes.

  “Take it off.”

  “Can’t. Bill said he’d fire me if you got access to Hip Granny. Said it’d be my personal failure.”

  Cheris beat the desk with her fist. “He won’t fire you. Other than me, you’re the best IT guy they have.”

  “Sorry.” His sad face disappeared as he sunk back in his cubed rat hole.

  She wrenched her chair back, stood, and stalked out of the building fury causing her teeth to clinch. Deciding to swim out some of her anger and frustration, she stopped by her apartment to get her suit and towel and headed to the Y.

  After half an hour of laps in the pool, the edge of Cheris’ anger had dissipated. In the locker room, she stripped off her swimsuit and pressed the towel to her damp skin.

  Bill was smart. She’d give him that. He knew if she realized Rhoderman’s job was on the line, she’d be less likely to hack the site.

  Still.

  Having her private life for all the world to view, especially when that private life was in shambles, was a nightmare.

  Her cell phone dinged signaling reception of a text.

  Cheris slid on her panties and bra before picking the phone up to read the message.

  How R U?

  Geoff.

  Hmm. Did he know their kiss was all over the World Wide Web? Would he care?

  She typed a message:

  Grrrrr. Hate my boss.

  Working?

  Not allowed. Swimming @ Y now

  Right now?

  No. Changing n locker room right now.

  Cheris grinned mischievously. Let him wonder what she was or was not wearing. She placed the phone down and finished getting dressed.

  In seconds her phone dinged again.

  Too bad, big boy. You’ll have to wait, she thought as she reached for her pants.

  Fully clothed, she read Geoff’s text as she exited the locker room.

  Unfair

  Cheris chuckled. Since their pool disaster Friday night, she hadn’t spoken to him though they’d played online battle ship and punch monkey several times.

  On my way home. Wanna play a game in @ 10 mins?

  Class in 3 mins. L8R @6?

  K

  She had just settled in her car when her phone rang. Was Geoff calling her now? She peered at the screen. No. It was a local cell number. She hit the answer button and greeted the caller.

  “Mrs. Arrowood?” a man’s voice asked.

  “No…oh. Umm. Who are you looking for?”

  “Is this Geoff’s wife Cheris? I’m Larry Preston. We met the other night when you and Geoff had the police called on you at Lauren Cooper’s house.”

  “Right. Yes. I remember you, Mr. Preston.”

  “Call me Larry. I got a hold of Geoff, but he tells me he’s in Georgia. He gave me your number and said you might be willing to meet with me at Lauren’s house.”

  Cheris stared through the windshield at the cars surrounding her and the YMCA building beyond. What had Geoff done?

  “Mrs. Arrowood?”

  Cheris huffed. Why did he have to call her that? “Cheris, please.”

  “Certainly, Cheris. When are you available?”

  Cheris shook her head. “What is this about? If there was any damage—”

  “No, no, no. Of course not. Nothing like that at all. Just a friendly visit at a beautiful home.”

  Yeah right.

  “I can’t speak for Geoff. If you have some business with him, perhaps you should wait until he comes back to town.”

  “I agree with you completely. Completely agree. But I’d like to meet with you today, and if Geoff and I have business at a later date, I sure as heck am going to meet with him when he gets back.”

  “I didn’t do anything in that house other than swim, eat, and sit on the couch. We did walk through it, but I didn’t mess with anything.”

  “Dear, Lauren’s tickled pink that you enjoyed her house up until the police came, that is. I’d like to make that up to you.”

  “There’s no need, Mr. P—”

  “Larry. Come on. Don’t make me beg here.”

  Cheris sighed. “I suppose I could meet you.”

  “Great. Wonderful. Are you free right now? I�
��ve got forty minutes that are yours if you want them.”

  Fine. Get it over with. Whatever it was.

  “Very well. I can be there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Fantastic, Cheris. You won’t regret it.”

  “It’s an offer I cannot refuse, Don.”

  “Huh? What was that?”

  “Forget about it,” she said in her best mobster voice, then, “I’ll see you there, Larry.”

  When Cheris arrived at her dream house, Larry Preston was already there standing in front of the wrought iron gate leading to the front porch. He waved to her as she climbed out of her car.

  With a jovial grin and an outstretched hand, he greeted her. “Well, Cheris, thanks for meeting me here.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed instead of shaking it as she expected. “Come on in, and let’s talk.”

  Ushering her inside, Larry’s contented sigh echoed in the large room. “What a gorgeous set-up. A crying shame it’s empty.”

  Standing with her hands clasped tightly in front of her, Cheris cast a quick longing glance around before settling on Larry.

  He watched her, waiting. “What do you think?”

  Never tell anyone other than the family what you’re thinking.

  But she wasn’t in this family. The Arrowood family. Ugh.

  “What can I do for you, Larry?”

  The older man announced, “I’d like to see you and Geoff in this house.”

  Cheris’ mouth dropped open. She shook her head.

  “Now don’t think this isn’t doable because it is.”

  “It’s not doable on levels you’re not even aware of.”

  He crossed the tiled expanse of the pool room, and Cheris reluctantly followed. At the base of the wrought iron stairs he paused and gestured for her to precede him. The spiral staircase had been one she and Geoff hadn’t taken the evening they spent here. She ascended the steps noting the sound of their shoes against the metal. On the landing she admired the water below them, remembering when she and Geoff had been there.

  “You’re renting an apartment now, isn’t that right?” Larry said from behind her.

  “Yes.” Cheris glanced behind her at the man, but the view in the plate glass windows snagged her attention. The house was on a hill overlooking the east side of Cullsbaeir and the bridge spanning the river beyond it.

  Oh, wow.

  “How’d you like to wake up to that view every morning?”

  A sigh of appreciation escaped her lips.

  “What if you lived here for what you and Geoff are paying there?”

  Cheris turned away from the windows and gave Larry her best Annie Hill no-nonsense stare. “It’s impractical. Sure, I could live here for what I’m paying in rent, but the cost of electricity and gas in a place like this is exorbitant, I bet.”

  “There’s a gas well on the lot so the cost of heating the house and water is non-existent. The air conditioner is state of the art. All of the bulbs are LED. You belong in this house.”

  “This house is too big for one person.”

  Larry’s eyebrow’s rose in surprise.

  “Even two people,” Cheris added hastily. “This house needs a big family in it. Or several. Maybe one of those families on that reality show with three wives and twenty kids.”

  Larry didn’t take the hint. He led her on a tour of the house spouting its attributes. Once he’d shown her the rooms inside, he took her outside to the back of the house with its smooth bricked patio and built in barbecue grill. Rounding the house they entered the front yard, and Cheris’ tree swing came into view.

  Larry walked right up to the swing and grasped the chain hanging from the branch above. “This house deserves someone to live in it. To love it,” he declared.

  “That someone’s not me.”

  “You live in the apartments over in Cullsbaeir Terrace, right? In three months their rent is going to increase by seventy dollars.

  Cheris had recently received a letter about it. “How do you know that?”

  “I’m a realtor. It’s my business to know. I’ll put you in this house for what you’ll be paying at Cullsbaeir Hills in three months with a three hundred dollar cap on electricity per month.”

  “Look. Just because you know Geoff’s family—”

  Larry shook his head. “It’s not personal. It’s business. I start cutting deals for all my fraternity brothers, I won’t be able to make my own mortgage which will make my wife very unhappy.”

  “You’ll lose money on this deal.”

  He nudged the swing a bit, and it moved back and forth. “An empty house is a loss, and I think there’s a lot of potential here, Cheris.”

  The motion of the swing drew her eye. She knew there was potential here. She yearned for the house, its space and beauty. The swing. The pool. The unique architecture of the open rooms. All of these things called to her like a siren song.

  Cheris wasn’t stupid. Larry was making this deal too sweet, an offer she really couldn’t refuse.

  It’s not personal. It’s business, he’d said.

  No doubt. If Geoff wasn’t behind this, his parents had to be. They had the means to pay whatever it took to set their son up with his new bride. And Cheris may be hillbilly trash, but she could not be bought.

  She took a shuttering breath and stuck her arm forward. “Thank you, Larry,” she said as they shook hands. Stepping back, she settled the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “I’ll talk to Geoff about this.”

  Boy would she ever.

  “Great. And don’t forget my open block party this weekend. If you win that TV, you can mount it in the pool room. Watch TV while you swim.”

  Cheris marched to her car without looking back at Larry, the tree, or the house.

  Pulling into the lot of her apartment complex, she parked and walked to the bank of boxes to check her mail. Pulling a square linen envelope from the slot, she peered at the name on the front.

  Cheris Arrowood

  Gritting her teeth, she turned the envelope over and tore open its scalloped seal. For a moment Cheris stared at the pearl white card with its filigree border inviting her to a celebration of the marriage of Geoffrey Watkins Arrowood, III to Cheris Leigh McDowell.

  What?

  A small crisp paper with a monogrammed A on the top fluttered to the floor. Stooping to pick it up, Cheris read the loopy script:

  Cheris,

  I hated to bother you two on your honeymoon, so I went ahead with the after-the-fact wedding shower. Hope this date suits you and Geoff. I’ve sent out about eighty and can send out as many more as you need if you want to give me addresses ASAP as you notice the date is in two weeks!

  Hugs and kisses,

  Monnie

  P.S. If you and Geoff haven’t already, register for your patterns. Please do so today. Hip Granny has the links to the stores

  No, no, no!

  Why was everything today about throwing her and Geoff together in this marriage?

  Cheris stalked to her car, started it up, and drove to Janie’s. Janie had twenty-nine years of dealing with Monnie Arrowood. Maybe she could help Cheris figure out how to rein in the woman.

  At Janie’s studio Cheris stood immobilized at the door’s threshold and surveyed the disaster before her. Broken pieces of Janie’s sculptures littered the floor. Black paint had been splashed and poured on her paintings and the walls.

  Who would have done such a terrible thing?

  Breaking into a run, she hurried to the office noting the destruction in the back hall as well. Turning the knob to the smaller room, Cheris opened the door. She expected to find the computer and camera missing, but everything was in order except for Janie slumped on the desk.

  “Janie, are you all right?”

  The other woman raised her head revealing mascara smeared tear trails down her blotched cheeks.

  Cheris knelt next to her friend. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

  “Get out of here, and leave me alone.” She put her
head back down on her folded arms resting on the desk’s top.

  “No way. I’m calling the police.” Cheris stood and reached for the cordless telephone on the desk.

  “You’re not calling anybody.” Janie straightened and snatched the phone out of Cheris’ hand. She slammed it down on the recharger. Wiping her cheeks and sniffing, she said, “Nothing happened. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine. Look at you. Look at your studio. Your beautiful art, oh, Janie.”

  “Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t say anything about it.”

  “But we’ve got to call the police. Somebody destroyed—”

  Janie stared at her paint-blackened hands. “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I hate it. I hate it, and it’s a lie.”

  Cheris shook her head in confusion. “What’s a lie? What do you hate?”

  “The painting. The sculpting. I’ve been lying about everything all this time, and I…I’m never painting again.”

  “You don’t mean that. I know this is your work. I’ve watched you paint and sculpt.”

  “I’ve worked my whole life to be who I am, to play by my own rules.”

  “Yeah. What’s changed?”

  “Everything. Me. I can’t do this.” With shaking hands, she covered her face.

  “Do what? What’s changed? Did Bobby hurt you?”

  “No. I ditched that loser.”

  “He did this.”

  “No. I did it! I’ve trashed everything here because none of it means anything to me anymore. I have to give it up.”

  Cheris pulled Janie’s hands away from her face. Peering into her friend’s eyes, she grasped her fingers tightly. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I think I’m in love with…with David Denton.”

  “Who?” The name clicked in her memory. David was Kelly’s minister friend from Clarksdale who had caught Janie when she’d fallen off the chair. “Oh.” Cheris hid her surprise. “Well. I think it’s great.”

  “You would. But I’m not going to…I’m not doing that.”

  “Why not? He seems like a sweet guy.”

  Janie wrenched her hands out of Cheris’ grasp. “He’s a preacher, Cheris!”

  “Right. Not a priest. He’s allowed to date. Have you guys been out on a date?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? He’s a minister. In a church.”