by Emily Bruce
Violet parked her car with a jerk and wrenched the handbrake on before the vehicle could roll down the hill. She glanced at her watch. Shit, it was 8:57 and she was going to be late! Again! She slammed her car door and hurried towards the tiny realty office. Smoothing down her grey pencil skirt and white blouse with her black handbag dangling from her arm, she hopped across the rough pavement to make her way to the front door of the vibrant orange building.
How long did it take to lay a new sidewalk?
She was running late!
Hurrying in the door, the little welcoming chime dinged furiously as she took two steps and lunged for the ringing phone before it rang out.
Dropping her bag and sprawling across the small reception desk in a tight skirt was not an easy feat, but she managed to get the call on the last ring.
Violet wanted to do a victory lap!
Ha! Suck that Jim ‘as long as you are here to answer the first phone call of the day you can have the job’ Jameson!
Breathlessly, she answered the phone.
“Hello, Encounter Bay Realty, this is Violet, how can I help you today?”
“Violet! What’s wrong, dear? You sound out of breath,” came a familiar and concerned voice down the phone.
Relaxing a little, she stood herself upright and crouched down to pick up her handbag and its contents from the floor, then walked around the desk to her chair, where she sat down and smiled. It was Sophie’s Mom, Sarah Wilson.
“Sorry Mrs Wilson, I was running a little late this morning.”
She didn’t add that it was because she had lost track of time while stalking her hot-as-hell son’s PicMe account.
She was such a pervert.
And to make it worse, he didn’t even post a half-naked picture this morning.
She had to look at yesterday’s one! Which, in her opinion, was totally worth a second look.
You could see the water beading on his abs!
That’s right, beading!
So damned hot!
“Well, I wanted to invite you and Jim and his family over for dinner. I’m throwing together a late birthday party for Blake.”
Violet felt her heart stop.
He was coming home today?!
She had barely gotten used to the idea that he might be coming home, and now he was going to be back in Encounter Bay as of today!
Nope, she couldn’t handle this.
She needed more time.
Time to adjust to the idea of possibly seeing him again, not just BOOM, there he is!
“Great, I will let Jim know,” Violet said in a cheery voice. Inside she was anything but cheerful.
Oh, god, she just broke out in an irrational-ass sweat!
How had Sophie not told her this?! She was going to kill her!
“You’d better be there, young lady! For the better part of a decade, I could swear you’ve been avoiding my parties! I will not be taking any excuses Violet, you’re like a daughter to me!” Crap, Mrs Wilson was onto her!
And of course, she had to throw in the guilt trip like any mother slash surrogate mother out there! Damn it!
How was she going to get out of this party?!
Everything was happening too quickly. Her heart couldn’t take this kind of excitement slash stress.
Oh god, her left arm was tingling again!
“Ummm, I think…” Violet said as she tried to come up with an excuse. Why hadn’t she thought of one already?
“Save it, Violet!” Mrs. Wilson cut her off, “I expect you there at 6:30, no later! And remember, I know where you live. If you’re not there, I am coming over and dragging you out by the hair myself!”
Slumping her shoulders in defeat, she sighed.
This was not happening right now!
When Mrs Wilson made a threat like that, she was not joking – she would show up and drag Violet from her house by her hair. You didn’t mess with Mrs Wilson!
“Sure, Mrs Wilson, of course I’ll be there,” Violet heard herself say.
She was having an out-of-body experience!
“Great! Violet, I have to go. I have a long list of people to call and it’s such short notice,” Mrs Wilson replied happily down the phone.
“See you tonight, my dear. Kisses!” she added.
Violet listened to the beeping phone for longer then she wanted to admit. Had that really just happened? Was she, Violet Stone, going to a party being thrown for Blake freaking Wilson?
Cue hyperventilation of epic proportions!
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her breakfast was threatening to return with a vengeance. This was shaping up to be the worst thing that had ever happened in history, ever!
Yes, she was a tad on the dramatic side, but who wouldn’t be?!
Blake Freaking Wilson!!!
Before she could work herself into a tizzy about tonight and having to see Blake, her boss called out.
“Violet!! Who were you talking to on the phone? My office now, I need a word.”
Oh, no she was totally going to get her ass chewed about yesterday.
Getting up and walking the ten steps to the tiny office off the main room, Violet went in and sat in the vacant chair opposite her boss’s massive mahogany desk. It barely fitted into the office and she was still at a loss as to how it actually got in there.
Maybe the room was built around it?
Jim Jameson was a 60-something who only ever wore brown suits and ties. He had a lovely wife and two grown kids. His wife had been his receptionist for years, but she retired three years ago to pursue her dreams of becoming a writer. She now spent her time writing erotic fiction that almost always involved a massive dildo.
Something Mr Jameson was not too pleased about.
But Betty and the town gossips loved.
Violet looked at her boss, a chubby and stout man with a really bad comb-over, the grey hair flopped over his head almost always flapping in the seabreeze.
Had he never heard of hair gel?
But he was a good boss and she could pretty much do what she wanted.
Running his hand through said comb-over, Mr Jameson shifted in his seat and the poor wheelie chair let out an agonizing groan.
“Violet, yesterday the Ellises called me and said that you had rushed them out of the Cape Cod place so fast they didn’t even make it up the stairs! Why did you do that? They’re loaded, and that house is on the market for over 3 million dollars! That’s $60,000 plus in commission!”
“I am so sorry Mr Jameson, it was an emergency,” Violet replied, trying to look and sound sincere.
“And what emergency was that?” he asked, looking annoyed as he lifted a challenging eyebrow.
Yikes! His cheeks were turning red, not a good sign, maybe she had gone too far…
He was giving Violet his hard stare and she tried not to smirk, because a few months ago she found a loophole guaranteeing to never get fired from this job.
And it was the best.
“I had my period sir, and I needed to rush home and get some tampons.” Violet watched as Mr Jameson turned bright red and looked anywhere but at her.
Older men couldn’t handle period talk and Mr Jameson was no exception.
“Okay, okay, just don’t mention your lady… business!” he said, holding his hands up in a surrender position and looking flustered.
“You can leave now,” he added, suddenly taking great interest in his desk.
Violet got up and went back to the reception desk with a huge smile on her face. She could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Never hiring a woman of breeding age again, I’m too old for this kind of shit.”
Violet sat back at her desk. That excuse worked like a charm every time. If only it worked for everything.
Like going to a party for the man you want, but who will never like you back.
Violet’s morning flew by. She spent the majority of it simultaneously freaking the hell out and doing the more mundane parts of her job. She couldn’t sit still and her
hands were trembling as she tried to type. She made rookie mistakes and hung up on the same person three times in a row by pressing the End button instead of Hold. As the clock ticked closer to lunch, she felt herself grow more nervous. She was itching to call Sophie, but she had to wait until Mr Jameson left the office.
Mr Jameson had imposed a ‘No personal calls during the day’ rule after Sophie called her 20 times in the afternoon of the day the news broke about Travis and Milly. Betty was running in hourly to tell Violet more details and Sophie was calling to ask if Violet had heard anything else. It wasn’t very often that something so scandalous happened in Encounter Bay!
Violet eyed the clock. Finally lunch had rolled around. She picked up the phone as the door was closing on Mr Jameson going on his lunch break.
Violet hurriedly punched in Sophie’s number.
“Hello?”
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me your ass-hat brother was coming home, like, today? Your mother just called and invited me to a party she’s throwing!” Violet seethed down the phone.
Nothing but laughter came from the other end.
“Vi, if I recall correctly, you interrupted me by spraying me with strawberry milkshake!”
Violet rolled her eyes as Sophie laughed.
“This is a disaster! How could you do this to me?”
“Calm down, it’s not that bad, it’s not like you are in love with him or anything, just ignore him like I do.”
Violet let the hysterical laughter bubble up.
If only Sophie knew the truth.
The truth that she was so not admitting to. Ever!
“What am I going to wear?” Violet cried down the phone.
“Relax Vi, you have heaps of nice clothes, just pick anything, it’s just my parents’ house, not some glitzy, glamorous Hollywood party.”
Yeah, that was easy for Sophie to say, she had a wardrobe the costume department on a soap opera would be jealous of!
“Why are you so worked up?” Sophie asked suspiciously.
Was Violet worked up?
Did hysterical count as being worked up?
She felt like she was wound tighter than a fob watch! In the space of 24 hours, her life had been turned upside down, all because Blake had decided to come back here.
“No reason, just a stressful day at work…” Violet managed to say in a smooth voice. She had to throw Sophie off the trail, she was getting too close!
“I’m sure,” Sophie said flatly, sounding less than convinced.
“Vi, I gotta go. Mom needs help with the party. See you there.”
“Bye.”
Violet hung up. She got up and started to pace the tiny office. What was she going to do?
Just play it cool, you can go there, have a good time, and leave. He won’t even notice you. And for all you know, he’ll probably show up with some LA Bitch.
Oh god, she was going to throw up! Violet ran through the tiny employee kitchen to the bathroom off it. Gripping the small hand basin, she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and nervous, and with trembling hands she turned on the faucet and spritzed cold water onto her face.
Just calm it the fuck down, Violet!!! You are going to have a heart attack. He is just a boy, a sexy boy, but just a boy all the same. It’s nothing, he probably won’t even notice you’re there, so stop being stupid, calm the hell down and get your ass back out there and do your job!! You are a 30-year-old woman, not some over-excited teenager!
Violet took a couple of deep calming breaths to go with her pep talk. In through the nose, out through the mouth!! Jeez, she was so worked up she had forgotten how to breathe. She needed to keep her emotions in check, she needed to go back out there and act professionally. She ignored the heart palpitations, the cold sweat, and the thundering in her ears as she managed to make it back to her seat and keep her breakfast down.
Sighing, she fired her computer back up. She needed to get this listing from yesterday online, or Mr Jameson really would fire her.
The bell dinged and Violet looked up to see Betty coming through the door. “Ah, just the girl I wanted to see,” Betty said, turning to shut the door. “How can I help you, Betty?” Violet asked, knowing that she was not here to sell her old Hamptons-style home in prime position, but to pump Violet for information.
“Have you heard the news, dear?” Betty asked, taking a seat across from Violet’s desk. The bright sparkle of Betty’s brown eyes told her that she had some really good gossip. “That Blake Wilson is coming home today?” Violet replied. Betty gasped and grabbed her chest. “Is he coming back here today? I thought he was only coming back for Sophie’s wedding.” Her eyes sparkled and a broad smile crossed her face. Violet cringed. Damn it! Betty was so good at extracting information. She was her go-to source for anything Wilson-related. “Ah, yeah, he’s coming home today. Well, that’s what Mrs Wilson told me when she rang and invited me to a party she’s throwing for Blake today.” The cat was out of the bag now. “I better hurry back to the diner and wait for my invite!” Betty said confidently as she stood up and moved towards the door. “I’ll see you tonight dear!” With that, she bustled out of the tiny office in a whirl of red skirts and Violet was left alone again.
The rest of the afternoon flew by, people were buzzing around about the party, and Mr Jameson seemed to be in a good mood. Betty had called three more times, trying to see if Violet had any more information. Finally, 5 pm rolled around and Violet packed up her desk, grabbed her bag, and made her way to Mr Jameson’s office. She knocked softly on the door. “Mr Jameson, I’m leaving a little early because I have to get ready for Mrs Wilson’s party. She watched as Mr Jameson looked up from his computer and smiled at her. “I’ll see you there.” Violet nodded and scurried out of the office.
Arriving home in record time, she looked at the clock. It was 5:30 already! She had exactly one hour to have a quick shower, lose 20 pounds, and look the hottest she possibly could.
Yeah, not going to happen.
Violet headed for her closet, she had to find something to wear, something that made her look good. There was no time to go on a shopping trip to Houston, she was going to have to cross her fingers and hope that in her tiny cupboard was the most fabulous dress in the world, a dress which would make Blake Wilson fall to his knees the moment he saw her.
Quit dreaming!
Rummaging through her closet, she sighed. There was nothing in here!! She was going to have to settle for jeans and a t-shirt. Moving through the coat hangers as fast as she could, Violet pondered – what did you wear to a party thrown for someone you used to love slash might still desperately love, who has gone on to be more successful than you and hotter than you, and who will probably look at you and laugh and call you Blowjob or something equally stupid?!
Gah!
She so should have tried out for The body I deserve, but even a team of attractive personal trainers couldn’t help her out of this predicament!
Finding a bright red mid-thigh A-line party dress with a sweetheart neckline in the back of her tiny cupboard, Violet wrestled it free and looked it over. Red was her color, or so her mother said, she had only worn it once, and that was New Year’s Eve four years ago. She quickly gave it a working over with the iron and sprayed it with perfume to hide that weird ‘I haven’t been worn for a while’ musty smell that clothes seem to get. She hurried into the shower, quickly shaved her legs, washed her hair, and hurried out of it again. Wrapped in a towel, she blow-dried her hair, then did her makeup. Some tinted moisturizer, black mascara, bright red lipstick, and she was done. She styled her hair so that it looked as straight as it could, to show off her sharp long bob.
Violet looked in the mirror.
Yep, this was as good as it was going to get in 60 minutes.
Putting on the dress, which seemed to have shrunk in the back of the cupboard, Violet huffed and puffed as she tried to get the side-zipper up.
Damned cupboard, shrinking all her clothes.
Finally, the zip zipped. Pairing the dress with some black stilettos, Violet gave herself a once-over in the mirror.
“I no longer look 17 that’s for sure,” she said to her reflection.
Well, there was no time to second-guess herself, this was as good as it was going to get. She found her phone and looked at the time. Yikes! She had exactly 7 minutes to get across town and get her ass into that mansion before Mrs Wilson went crazy and came by here and dragged her out by her hair.
She better step on it!
Chapter 6
Blake
Driving down the only road to Encounter Bay made Blake smile. He knew every bump and curve of that old road. He was finally coming home for good. He put the window of his mother’s brand-new SUV down and breathed in the fresh, familiar, salty air.
“It’s so good to be home,” he said to his mother.
“I’m so excited you’ve decided to come home! I’ve missed you baby, and you’ve missed out on so much! You haven’t even met Jamie!”
Blake furrowed his brow.
Who in the hell was Jamie?
Although it did sound familiar from his mother’s regular waffle-on sessions, where she called him and talked and he half-listened.
“And Jamie is who?” he asked.
He felt the car swerve violently and he looked over at his mother looking at him.
“Blake Wilson! Jamie is Sophie’s fiancé!”
“Oh,” he replied, trying to remember when his mother had told him that his twerp little sister was getting married. Come to think of it, he remembered getting an invite not so long ago.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I invited a couple of people over to celebrate you coming home,” his mother said as they pulled down the winding cliff road leading to the Wilson mansion. Even the trees hanging over the road and connecting into a leafy canopy comforted him.
Blake glanced at his mother. “You didn’t tell them all I was coming home to live permanently, did you? I don’t want anyone to know.”
His mother rolled her eyes. “I told everyone it was a late birthday party. Everyone is so excited to see you.”
“How many people?” Blake asked skeptically, knowing his mother was prone to the ‘go big or go home’ party-planning style.