Chapter 45
Vic was practically jumping up and down in the driveway, excitement radiating from her, when Cal arrived to pick her up, and his own heartbeat jumped happily to see her so happy. Whatever her news was, it had to be good.
He didn’t bother turning the engine off, but he did climb out of the cab and go around to open her door for her. He liked doing—well, pretty much anything for her. Her smile just made him so danged happy. He also wanted to give her a hello kiss and nuzzle her neck.
“Mmmm, you smell so good,” he said into her hair. “Are you sure you need to go to Jack’s? We could hole up here or at my—”
“I’m sure.” She beamed and literally bounced a little in her knee-high, fur-trimmed boots—boots that encased her legs in a way that made him feel like Bugs Bunny seeing a carrot.
“Michael’s coming for a visit in February for eight whole days! I want to spruce up the main floor’s guestroom. Fresh paint, new curtains, new bedding, the works.” Her grin was so sweet and so transparently delighted that Cal’s heart swelled even more.
“That’s great news, Vic.” Worrying that his words failed to convey how much he meant it, he added, “Just absolutely wonderful.” And it was. In fact, this was the first time Vic had ever brought Michael up in conversation without a touch of sadness around her eyes or a wistfulness in her expression.
From personal experiences with his own mom and dad and from watching Carrie and various friends, Cal knew parent-child relationships were complicated.
Heck, all relationships were in some ways, right?
Even the best of them. And Vic had told him that her and Michael’s issues were all her fault.
He doubted that—and really, how did blaming anyone help mend fences anyway?
—but he hoped whatever had gone wrong between them could be fixed.
Come on, kid, he thought. Give your mom a break. Be nice to her when you get here.
“And guess what else?” Vic asked, still sounding hyper.
“I couldn’t possibly,” he teased.
“I’ve been painting little memories of him for a while now. I’m going to hang a few in his room, and if he likes them, he can take them with him.” Her forehead creased.
“He’s going to love them, no question.” Man, how he hoped that was true.
“You always seem to know what I’m thinking or worrying about.”
Cal nodded, wishing that was true because increasingly all he wanted to do was ease her mind and deepen her pretty smile lines.
“Okay, Jack’s Hardware it is. Let’s get some paint!” He opened the van door for her, and she hopped in.
Everyone in Greenridge must’ve made New Year’s resolutions to tackle home repairs because Jack’s was swamped.
Cal didn’t mind the curious gazes of various Greenridge folk who knew him, however—or their barely concealed surprise at seeing him out and about with a romantic partner.
If anything, he was proud. And Vic’s hand in his as they walked the aisles felt so good he could hardly concentrate.
The paint color Vic had chosen for Michael’s room was freshly mixed and shaken, and the paint guy had just put the buckets into a cart for them when Vic’s smile dropped and her face blanched.
Expecting—well, heck, he didn’t know what he was expecting—Cal wheeled around to confront whatever was spooking her.
But it was just Monika and Kelsey, familiar faces, sort of a fringe part of Carrie’s friendship scene.
No huge threat. Monika was a bit scary, true.
Carrie had set him and Monika up on a blind date.
An hour into it, he’d known full stop that he wasn’t her type—and had been relieved.
And Kelsey? He knew her better than Monika because she was a cashier at Jack’s.
In fact, her blue and yellow vest indicated she was on duty this very minute.
She was nice enough, but a bit of a busybody.
If he ever knew anything about the comings and goings and dirty laundry of various people, he’d probably heard it going through her till, but lots of people gossiped.
He wondered for a moment if she’d gossip about him and Vic now—and was embarrassed that a little thrill zipped through him at the idea.
He’d never been the sort of guy anyone ever talked about, good or bad.
“Well, well, I’ll be . . . Victoria Trent, in the flesh,” Monika crooned. “You’re back—and from the looks of it, the rumor mill was true.”
Cal’s silly daydream about being fodder for talk—and that being a remotely positive thing—ended abruptly.
Although Monika’s words weren’t overtly aggressive, there was something meanly suggestive in her tone that put him on high alert.
Rumor mills were never good. What was he thinking? He stepped closer to Vic.
At the movement, Monika’s head swung in his direction.
Like a snake, Cal thought.
“Awwww,” Monika said with a strangely venomous sneer, shooting her words at Vic. “You’ve landed yet another one. You know Cal’s not married, though, right? Never has been. Confirmed bachelor, our Cal here. Not really your type. At all.”
Cal glanced at Vic in surprise before he could stop himself, and Monika let out a razor-sharp cackle.
She widened her eyes at Cal. “You mean you didn’t know?
Yeah, so sad. She was with my good friend Naomi’s husband, Brent, for years.
Years. So pathetic—but also so devious, you know?
I mean, he was the one who’d made the vows, obviously—but still, a woman who goes willingly with a married man.
Who so calculatedly betrays another woman . . .”
Vic’s eyes were huge and stricken. The old expression, like a deer in headlights, popped into Cal’s mind, but he simultaneously noted that she didn’t object or deny or try to explain anything in her defense.
With Vic’s discomfort and misery clear to all, the first smile that seemed genuine crossed Monika’s sharp features. She flipped her hair dramatically.
“Of course, that’s not the only thing you help yourself to, is it?”
Vic let out a small, strangled sound. “How did . . . how do you know—”
Monika tittered. “It’s a small world, sweetheart, and Vancouver’s practically next door.
Naomi told my cousin about this homewrecker, who told me—and well, Vic’s not that common a name for a woman, is it?
I did some simple digging—I want to protect my friends, after all.
Women should look out for other women. Right, Kelsey? ”
Kelsey nodded weakly.
Cal caught the false detail. First Monika had referred to Naomi as a close friend.
Now she’d made it sound like the woman was actually Monika’s cousin’s friend, and Monika’s cousin was apparently just as big a gossip as she was, but it wasn’t worth bringing up.
Who the betrayed wife was in relation to Monika wasn’t the point.
The point was . . . was it true? Why wasn’t Vic denying it?
One look at her face again told him. Because she couldn’t.
Monika’s smile stretched, and while Cal found Vic’s glossy berry lips endlessly sensuous and enthralling, the slash of red on Monika’s mouth reminded him of blood.
As if Vic had said something else—she hadn’t—Monika nodded and continued. “And on the taking things that aren’t yours note, Kelsey was on her way over to talk to you, but felt uncomfortable, so I said I’d be her wing woman.”
Kelsey did indeed look uncomfortable, bouncing foot to foot and playing with a pen she wore on a string around her neck. “So yes, Vic . . .” she started, only to be interrupted by Monika’s flapping hand.
“Companies never hire enough staff these days. What could I do but support my friend in what she feared would be an awkward confrontation?”
Vic found her voice—if quietly. “It’s okay,” she muttered. “I get it. I’m leaving.”
Monika’s thin, penciled eyebrows spiked toward her hairline. “You have a full cart of items that belong to the store, Victoria.”
Vic flushed a dull, tomato soup red. “I meant, leaving after paying, obviously.”
“Obviously?” Monika tittered. “It’s actually not obvious with you, though, is it?”
Cal was floored. What the hell was going on? He looked at Kelsey. She shrugged helplessly. “The thing is, Vic . . . We have a photo of you in our book.”
Cal’s first thought was that of course people would have photos of Vic in a book. She was a stunner. His next thought was that he really was an idiot. There was zero chance being in a book of collected photos in a store was for flattering reasons.
“You’re on our shoplifter watch list,” Kelsey whispered, confirming Cal’s worries. “And, um, well, the police don’t really do anything, so it’s, uh, store policy that you’re banned. It’s not personal. Anyone caught on camera is.”
To anybody witnessing the interaction, Cal figured he probably seemed pretty calm, but that was only because he was numb with shock.
Vic had been someone’s . . . mistress? Did anyone even use that phrase nowadays?
And she was a . . . petty thief? So much for the “honesty” he’d so appreciated about her.
Vic gripped the cart’s handle. “I cannot believe you told Monika all this,” she hissed at Kelsey. “Isn’t this kind of stuff confidential or something?”
Monika made a dismissive sound. “Kelsey tells me everything, and why wouldn’t she? That’s one of the problems today. Everyone, even criminals, think they should have special snowflake treatment.”
Vic shook her head, and her eyes brimmed. Cal was confused, though. Was she crying because she was caught or because she was ashamed or—
Vic yanked the cart in the direction of the closest till. Then, so quietly she might not have been aware she was saying it aloud, she whispered, “Why can’t there ever just be good things at the same time as other good things? Why does something always wreck everything?”
Yeah, Cal thought, following her to the till and taking the credit card she handed him. Why indeed?
She exited the building before her items were even rung through.
Cal was very quiet on the drive back to Vic’s. He couldn’t help it. A million thoughts were hammering up and down in his head, and he had no clue what to say.