Chapter 10
Javiar waited two days to text Victoria. She stared at her phone and realized she’d completely forgotten about their meeting
the other night. She’d been too busy dwelling on the fact that she had been little more than the backup child in her mother’s
life. A distressing truth, and one she had to figure out how to deal with or she was going to risk either needing therapy
or leaving her twenties as a dried-up, bitter hag. She really didn’t want to experience either.
While she was trying to figure out what to say, he texted again.
I’ll bring croissants.
The incongruity of tempting her with bread when she was thinking about whether or not she was physically up for sex made her
laugh out loud.
Is that your way of saying you want lunch? She almost added the word first, but thought maybe she should let things play out before she assumed they were doing it. After all, one-on-one he might be
annoying and that was a no-go for her.
Lunch and conversation sounds good.
She thought about what was in her refrigerator. She could probably pull something together.
She texted her address, then added, See you in an hour.
Looking forward to it.
She tossed the phone on her desk and saved her day’s pages, then made her way to the kitchen. She had several kinds of cheese
and had gotten a grocery delivery the previous day, so there was fruit. If he was serious about croissants, then she could
put together a decent charcuterie board with minimal effort and let the bread be the star.
She sliced cheese, washed berries and sliced up a couple of apples. After squeezing on lemon to keep them from turning brown,
she arranged everything on an oval board. Once that was done, she picked up her living room, checked the towels in the guest
bath and wondered if she should change her sheets. There wasn’t a lot of time, and these days, with her cast, the task was
daunting. And seriously, how many guys complained the sheets weren’t clean when they were about to get sex?
As promised, he rang her doorbell at the one-hour mark. She opened it and stared at the man standing in front of her. He was
as tall as his dad—about six feet—with dark hair and eyes. He was fit enough for her to guess he worked out but not so muscled
that she had to worry he was totally self-absorbed.
“Oh, wow. You’re much better-looking than I remember.”
Javiar raised one eyebrow. “I’m offended. How could you forget that I’m hot?”
She laughed. “It was the stress of the evening, and I apologize for my inattention.” She shuffled back to let him enter, then
eyed the bakery box. “I don’t suppose those are diet croissants. I’m short and I can’t work out, so putting on weight is a
thing.”
“They’re the real deal, but you look great.”
Looking great and being fit weren’t the same thing, but she didn’t say that.
As for weighing, she hadn’t except when she’d first gotten home.
But the high number—no doubt due to the cast and the swelling from her injuries, but depressing nonetheless—had kept her off the scale.
In her business, every pound mattered. Still, it was just one croissant.
“What can I get you to drink?” she asked. “Water, soda, beer?” She wasn’t one to drink during the day, but everyone was different.
“Snapple.”
“Snapple’s great.”
“Let’s go in the kitchen.”
She’d figured they would start there to eat lunch, then move to the sofa if things got interesting.
She led the way and waved toward the table already set with the charcuterie board in the middle. Javiar stared at it and shook
his head.
“What is it with women and those boards? It’s a thing.”
“Really? I don’t know that many people who make them regularly.”
“Shannon and her mom are fanatical about them. Once every week or so, Shannon puts one together with all the leftovers we
have in the refrigerator. She says it was a tradition when she was growing up, so I guess she got it from her mom.”
Victoria did her best to process the information. Ava was also a fanatic about charcuterie boards. She’d once confessed her
father hadn’t been that interested in traditional meals or sitting at the table to eat with her so she would take him little
bits of food to tempt him. She’d done her best to make the plates interesting, with different elements.
For as long as Victoria could remember, charcuterie boards had been a regular occurrence in their household. Had Ava taught
a teenaged Cindy the practice?
She wasn’t sure why the idea of it was upsetting, and yet it was.
“You okay?” he asked.
“What? Oh, I’m fine. Let me get your Snapple.”
“I can get it. You sit.”
He was up and heading for the refrigerator before she could even turn on her crutches. He grabbed two and brought them to
the table, then smiled at her.
“Are you going to sit?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“You should,” he told her. “I can be good company.”
She dropped into the seat across from him and lowered her crutches to the floor. He passed her the open box of croissants.
She hesitated before picking one and taking a bite. The slightly crunchy outside gave way to perfect layers and a buttery
finish that nearly had her moaning.
“If you could see your face,” he teased. “I’m almost jealous.”
“You should be.” She took another bite, then sighed. “Heaven. I’ll have to do core work for an hour later, but it will be
worth it.”
“Do you usually work out a lot?” he asked. “When you’re not on crutches?”
“It’s required for my job. Don’t forget I’m doing stunts for the female stars who are generally as big around as a toothpick.
I have to be strong, agile, coordinated and in perfect shape.”
“Perfect, huh? That sounds exhausting.”
“It’s a commitment, but it comes with what I do.” She studied him, taking in the square jaw and very sexy eyes. “You’re in
real estate, right? On the selling side?”
“I am.”
“Aren’t there days when the clients get on your nerves and you want to yell at them to shut up?”
His mouth twitched. “That would never happen.”
“Exactly. Because you want to be good at your job. It’s the same thing. Everyone has bad days, but sometimes we have to power
through.” And get thrown out of a truck, she added silently. Maybe someone yelling at her would be better than getting injured.
At least the recovery would be quicker.
“So you’re the power-through type?” he asked.
“Pretty much. I’m decisive.” She smiled. “I might not always make the right decision, but I’m going to make the fast one.”
“Doesn’t that get you in trouble?”
“Sometimes. If it does, I retrace my steps, fix the problem and move on. I’m generally not one to wallow.” Although she supposed
a case could be made that she was wallowing about a lot of things lately. Something to think about when she was alone.
She looked at Javiar as he put cheese and fruit on his plate. He was certainly easy to look at, but so far he was also easy
to talk to. She had to admit that while in most circumstances like this, she and the man in question went directly to the
bedroom to do the deed, she kind of liked hanging out a little first. Not just because she could get to know him but because,
well, she’d been a little lonely lately. Her stunt friends were all away on location, and she hadn’t been able to get to her
writing critique group since the accident.
“How are you handling all this?” he asked. “The whole Shannon-Cindy revelation?”
“I’m pissed,” she blurted, surprising herself and probably him. “Huh.” She turned the concept over in her mind and found she’d
been telling the truth. “Yes, pissed describes my emotions really well.”
“Why pissed?” he asked. “I get being surprised or uncomfortable, but angry? Tell me why.”
Before she could point out that her feelings were none of his business, she found herself saying, “I’m the child they didn’t
want.”
His gaze sharpened. “What does that mean?”
“They wanted Shannon. They went looking for her. You’ve seen my mom with Cindy. They could be sisters, and Shannon looks just
like them. That’s what my mom wanted.” She waved her hand. “She says she wanted a connection and that Cindy looking like her
was just a happy coincidence, but come on. If you’re going to adopt a baby, don’t you want it to look a little like you?”
She sipped her Snapple. “They made plans, they did the baby room, they loved her and she was ripped away from them without warning.”
He was watching her as she spoke. “That had to be hard.”
“Right? They were devastated. Then a couple of months later, one of my mom’s maids comes to her. She’s pregnant, her family
doesn’t know, and hey, did my mom and dad want her kid? Voilà. Problem solved.”
“But?”
“But they didn’t want me. I was the generic Oh well, we can’t have the child we love, so we’ll take this one. You know that’s how it was. They didn’t want me specifically. They were willing to take me because it solved a problem.
And for my mom, it was too soon. She didn’t want me and didn’t love me for a long time.”
“You were a baby. You can’t know that.”
“Trust me, I know it.”
He shook his head. “You weren’t the child they didn’t want. To them, you would have been like a gift from God.”
She snorted. “They’re really not God people.”
“We’re all God’s people.”
She eyed him. “Is this you being funny?”
“A little.”
“And who are you in all this?”
“Cindy worked for my parents.”
“Right. She was friends with your mom, and then your mom died.” She paused. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
“It was. For all of us. My mom was amazing.” He smiled as if remembering her. “She always took the extra step. Everyone loved
her. I was nine when we met Cindy, so that was maybe fifteen years ago. I was with my mom at the bank. I don’t know why. Maybe
school got out early or something. Anyway we were standing in line, and Cindy was in front of us. Suddenly she fainted. My
mom helped catch her, then talked to her, wanting to know what was wrong.”