Chapter 3Victor Grimes – Vic
Chapter 3
Victor Grimes – Vic
P eace finds us in unexpected places, often when we least expect it but precisely when we need it most.
For me, peace didn’t come from reaching for it; it found me when I let go of everything.
It emerged from the darkest shadows of my life—a time filled with chaos, tragedy, fear, and heartbreak.
And it came in the most beautiful form imaginable: my family, my greatest blessings, my daughters.
“Dad, stand up straight and stop pouting. You’re making the suit look ugly,” Sydney, my precocious six-year-old, commands, her tiny hands on her hips as she hands me my cufflinks.
Her brow furrows in a mix of amusement and exasperation.
“Are you sure it isn’t the suit?” I grumble, casting a dramatic glance at the mirror.
“I look ridiculous. No, beyond ridiculous—I look hideous. Might as well burn everything.”
Ms.
Tina, my house manager, snorts, trying and failing to suppress her laughter.
The rest of the staff isn’t doing much better.
“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” Ariel, my too-wise-for-her-own-good nine-year-old, chimes in, her voice dripping with gentle sarcasm.
I scan the room, catching the barely contained smiles of the staff.
“Oh, so, I’m the household joke now, am I?” I say, the corner of my mouth twitching as I feign indignation.
“This is exactly what he needs,” Ms.
Tina whispers loud enough for all to hear, with a knowing grin.
“To dress up, get out of this house, and stop driving us crazy. ”
Their laughter, though at my expense, is infectious, and despite myself, I can’t help but let a slight smile slip through.
Sensing my resignation, Ariel steps closer and adjusts my tie with a seriousness that belies her age.
“There, much better. Now, you don’t look like a frumpy cook anymore. You look like the 5-star Michelin chef you are!”
I chuckle under my breath and corral my mini-me into my embrace.
“Thanks, Ari. I don’t know what I’d do without you and your sister. You two keep me sane, you know that?”
“And stylish, too, Dapper Dad,” Syd adds, winking at me from across the room.
It’s been years since I’ve worn a tuxedo, and the last place I expected to dress up for a black-tie affair is at a floral shop.
Apparently, this town makes big deals out of small occasions, any excuse to dress up for a party, which is an ideal setting for my daughters but not for me.
Despite my grandiose home and family name, I’ve never been the flashy type.
Of the Grimes brothers, I’m the homebody who prefers to craft new recipes in the kitchen rather than schmooze at networking events.
I own our multi-million-dollar family brand, but I hate the business side of things.
I’d rather focus on the food.
“Did I hear laughter coming from my son’s room?” My mother sounds from the hallway.
“You heard right, Grandma! Daddy’s freaking out about leaving the house,” Sydney tattles with glee.
“Well, of course he is. He hasn’t stepped foot outside since we moved here. The whole town’s abuzz, wondering who the mysterious old man is behind the gates of Greer’s largest estate.” Mom adds as she strides into my room, her presence as formidable as ever.
“Old man? I’m only thirty-eight,” I protest, instinctively running a hand through my hair where the grey strands are staging a quiet rebellion.
“I thought the grey hairs made me look distinguished, not old.”
Mom smirks, her eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Distinguished, huh? That’s one way to put it. But seriously, Victor, it’s good you’re getting out tonight. We begin construction on the new restaurant in just one week and film your new cooking show in a few months. You’ll be the hot topic all year, so it’s about time you met the residents and fellow business owners. ”
“They don’t need to meet me. That’s Hudson’s role, not mine. Or at least it was,” I grumble, adjusting my tie.
“I just wish he’d grow up and accept that I’m CEO now. He needs to hurry up and get back so I can work from home and focus on the restaurants. Look at the girls’ sad faces. They need me.”
“We don’t,” Ariel and Sydney chime in together, their voices harmonizing in a chorus of budding wannabe pre-teen independence.
“Those days are over, Vic. If you’re not going to let your brother lead with you, then it’s time you start managing the entire business from the office. Besides, Hudson deserves his extended vacation after dealing with your stubbornness all these years. And don’t let your smart mouth get you into trouble tonight.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she steamrolls right over me.
“And the girls will be fine, especially when their new nanny arrives. She’s a former teacher, you know, the best this town has to offer.”
“Then why isn’t she teaching? She’s clearly unqualified.” I scoff while adjusting my tie.
“They don’t need a nanny or a teacher anyway! And I certainly don’t need a nosy townie coming in and out of our home and prying into our lives.”
“Well, good news then,” Mom says smugly.
“She won’t be coming in and out of our lives. She’s going to be living here.”
The room falls into stunned silence.
“ Living ?” Ariel repeats, her eyebrows shooting up.
Ms.
Tina gasps, clutching her imaginary pearls.
“A woman living with us? It’s been years!”
“Oh my God, this is awesome!” Sydney squeals.
“I hope she likes the color pink!”
“I wonder if she knows how to do hair,” Ariel muses.
“Or maybe she can take us to a nail salon during lunch breaks!”
“Hey,” I interrupt, feeling mildly offended.
“I like pink. I know how to do hair. And I have nail techs come to the house once a month.”
“It’s not the same, Dad. Oh, my goodness, Grandma. Thank you for finding us a teacher. Dad’s rejected every application that’s come through.”
“I know, honey. Grandma’s got everything under control. This woman has tons of experience working with kids! And from our brief conversation, I can tell she’s got plenty of spunk! I think everyone in this house is gonna love her. ”
I grunt.
“I doubt that. She’ll be gone in a week. Now, no junk food after 8 o’clock. They were bouncing off the walls last time.”
“Huh? What’d you say?” She playfully dismisses me.
“I’m too busy thinking about all the candy we’re gonna eat.”
Mom and the girls chuckle while I finish getting dressed and prepare to suffer through an evening of fake pleasantries.
As I straighten my tie one last time, the rumble of laughter from my family fades into the background, replaced by the soft closing of my bedroom door.
I stride toward the foyer, where my driver, Gary, awaits with a knowing smile.
“You ready to have some fun tonight, Mr. Grimes?” Gary asks, opening the door for me with a flourish.
“Fun? What’s that?” I chuckle dryly, the concept feeling foreign after years of solitude.
Gary, who’s been with me for over a decade, gives me a pointed look through the rearview mirror as we drive.
“It’s what you used to be all about, Sir. The fun, charming ladies’ man who settled down and fell in love. Maybe you’ll meet a woman and fall head over heels again.”
I shrug dismissively, staring out at the passing streetlights.
“Those kinds of things only happen once in a lifetime, Gary.”
“Mr. Grimes, you’ve lived more lifetimes in your years than many do in several. You deserve to find happiness again. Maybe stepping out of your comfort zone tonight is a good start.”
His words linger in the air, a gentle nudge toward a future I’ve been reluctant to imagine.
We pull up to Waylen’s Flower Shop, a grand establishment adorned with vibrant floral displays that cast a warm glow onto the street.
The shop is right next to the land I recently purchased for the new restaurant—a constant reminder of the pressure to succeed in my professional and personal life.
Taking a deep breath, I nod to Gary.
“I’ll be ready in about 30 minutes.”
Gary laughs.
“I’ll be out here in 45, then. Remember, fun!”
I step out, adjusting my jacket as I approach the rustic yet elegant building.
The interior hums with life, the silhouettes of well-dressed locals moving behind the large windows, but despite my wealth and once well-known public persona, I don’t know any of these people.
My brother secures and closes the business deals.
The deals that have made me a star.
He’s the schmoozer, the social butterfly.
I’ve always preferred to focus on the restaurants and be the mysterious, hidden, enigma behind the success.
But that freedom’s over, and it’s time for me to enter the spotlight.
Be charming, I remind myself.
And most importantly, don’t be an asshole.
Pausing before the entrance, I take a moment to steady myself.
Then, I see a woman looking through the large paned glass.
Her skin is a canvas of glowing brown.
Her curly hair frames her face in a halo of soft curls, and her body is elegantly draped in a pink gown that lovingly clings to every sexy curve.
She looks like laughter, life, and sex wrapped in silk.
She’s breathtaking.
She’s gorgeous.
Simply gorgeous.
For a moment, I forget myself and watch her, still peeking through the window but seemingly having a conversation with herself.
“Ooh, that guy looks like he owns a company. Small talk, Kerry. Don’t stick your foot in your mouth. Know your worth and secure your future.” She mutters to herself, straightening her posture, not realizing I can hear every word.
The spell breaks.
My initial enchantment gives way to disillusionment as her distasteful intentions sink in.
A sigh slips from me, laced with disappointment.
I groan to myself, frustrated by the perils of small-town ambitions, “Gold diggers. Can’t escape them.”
But as I reach for the door handle, her hand wraps around mine like a jolt, and not the static kind, but the kind that zips straight to your chest and shoots through me.
I feet an intense, passionate zing, but she apparently doesn’t because she abruptly turns to me and slams the door shut, aggressively pressing her hand down on mine.
Her head snaps up, and she narrows her eyes in a fiery gaze.
“What’d you just call me?” She says in her sharp, sweet, and Southern voice.
Caught, but unwilling to back down, I meet her glare head-on.
“I called you what you are. A gold digger sizing up your next mark. I literally just caught you in the act, woman.”
Her jaw clenches, her breath sharp.
“‘Woman,’” she snaps, mimicking my dismissive tone.
She then pauses, her eyes lustfully raking over me with fresh scrutiny.
“At least you got that part right, so I guess you’re not a complete asshole. But the next time you see me, you better show me some damn respect, you…you little grey-haired handsome devil! ”
I blink, thrown off by the unexpected insult-compliment hybrid.
A laugh escapes before I can stop it, and there’s an unspoken attraction as we size each other up.
She bites her lip while I lick mine.
Still, she doesn’t flinch, though her posture shifts, defensive yet undeniably captivating.
And despite the tension crackling between us, there’s something else simmering beneath it.
Curiosity?
Intrigue?
Hell, if I know.
But it’s so strong that I reach out, almost without thinking, gently tucking a stray curl behind her ear, allowing my fingertips to graze her velvet-smooth skin.
My often neatly guarded desires are uncharacteristically out of control right now.
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” I murmur, my voice dropping lower than I intended.
“I wonder how good you look when you’re happy.”
Her gasp is sharp, indignant, but her lips twitch at the corners, betraying her.
“Enjoy securing your future, gold digger,” I add with a smirk, stepping back.
She lets out an exasperated huff, maintaining her furrowed brow and unamused smile while opening the door.
“For the record, I don’t need to mark anyone. I can have whoever I want, but I choose to have no one at all, and I’ll keep choosing no one when assholes like you are walking around this godforsaken town. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going inside. And don’t you dare stare at my ass, Grey Beard.”
With that, she turns on her heel and strides into the shop, her gown swaying hypnotically with each step.
Despite her warning, my eyes linger on the graceful curve of her hips and perfectly round ass, leaving me momentarily spellbound yet again.
Inside, the crowd buzzes with excitement, yet all I can think about is the beautiful small-town gold digger who just put me in my place and turned me on all at once.