Chapter Three The Walk Home #2
“Yes!” Madison said without hesitation. She followed with, “Next Saturday. You can be my plus-one. Unless you’d rather not go to a cocktail party and dinner with dozens of boors.”
“Sounds like it could be fun.”
“Ha!” Madison chortled. “I shouldn’t be throwing shade on the event, but it is filled with effusive bootlickers.” She grimaced. “Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind?”
“Seriously. It could be fun. I met Victor and Joel, remember? They remind me of Steve Martin and Martin Short.”
“You’re right! They do!” Madison laughed. “That’s too funny!”
“See? It will be fun.” Viggo stretched out his arm and propped himself against the wood siding next to the door. “Should I rent a tux, oh High Priestess of Fashion?” he asked.
Madison twisted her mouth to one side. “Goodness, no. It’s not the Met Gala.”
“That’s a relief,” Viggo replied with a chuckle.
Madison snickered. “We’re not Vanity Fair or Vogue, so it won’t be over the top.” She tilted her head. “What kind of suits do you have?”
“The usual assortment of not much. Black pin-striped suit, dark gray suit, navy blue blazer.”
Madison eyed him carefully. He was trim but not thin, and hovered around six feet tall. Madison thought his face and his smile would be enough—fully clothed, of course.
“Okay, drop off your best-fitting suit and shirt on your way to work tomorrow morning.” Madison’s wheels were turning.
She realized she was expecting a few people to jump through hoops, but she also knew Elio, a master tailor.
He could transform anything wearable into a work of art.
Her plan was to check the size of his suit and order something similar, then send it over to Elio along with Viggo’s suit.
All Elio would have to do was tailor the new suit to match the existing one.
Viggo looked confused. “Drop them off here? I have to be at the station by six in the morning.”
“That’s fine. Hang them on the doorknob.
” Madison’s creative juices were flowing.
She planned to wear a white silk and linen blend Armani pantsuit.
It had a sleeveless vest-style jacket and pleated pants.
She debated whether or not she should wear a camisole under it or show a little more skin.
That final touch could wait until the last minute. “Oh, and your dress shoes.”
“If you say so.” Viggo saluted. “I’ll give you a call later in the day to find out what you are up to. I can almost believe ‘witness protection.’”
They both laughed, leaned in to kiss each other on the cheek, bumped noses, and laughed a little more.
She took his hand and looked into his deep blue eyes.
“Thank you for your support today. It was a roller coaster ride. My stomach was in my throat for a good part of it.” She paused. “You calmed the seas.”
“My pleasure.” He leaned in again; this time, he managed to plant a kiss on her forehead. Madison thought, at least he landed somewhere on my face.
Viggo turned and made his way to the path to his house. He couldn’t stop smiling. It had been a while since he’d felt this excited … and a bit nervous. He wanted to make a good impression on Madison’s colleagues and make her feel at ease. He didn’t want her to think she had to babysit him.
Madison watched the agile man hop over the split rail fence that divided the property with the park and its hiking trail.
She calculated on her fingers the difference in their age.
A little over six years. It wasn’t the first time she’d dated a younger man.
There was Seth. She cringed at the thought of him.
It turned out he was just dating her to steal industry secrets from her.
How could she have been so na?ve? But Viggo was nothing like Seth, and she wasn’t going to allow Viggo’s younger age influence her.
Viggo was a real man. Not a macho man, but a real, authentic gentleman, who possessed many skills.
She felt a tingle of enthusiasm. Plus, she had a date! This would be a first in a long time.
Madison rarely brought anyone with her to work events. When Victor pressed her, she declared it was “too much responsibility.” However, she was sure Viggo could hold his own. And they would make a handsome couple.
Her mind started drifting toward intimate thoughts, and she began to wonder what it would be like. “Keep your thoughts PG,” she said to herself. “No time for that now. There is work to be done.”
Madison went to her room, opened her laptop, and went to the Hugo Boss website.
She found exactly what she was looking for: a light gray, silk-and-linen Hugo slim-fit suit.
It would be perfect. She then shopped for a white silk shirt and a white hand-rolled pocket square with gray trim.
As soon as she knew what size Viggo wore, she’d send Olivia’s assistant to pick it up from the store and deliver it to Elio.
Now she had to find a messenger to bring Viggo’s suit to New York.
The more she thought about the logistics of her plan, the more she realized it would make more sense if she handled everything herself and saved the back-and-forth text messages.
Something would undoubtedly go wrong. There were too many moving parts.
She could just hop on one of the early morning ferries on Monday, head to her loft, check the mail, then take a cab to Hugo Boss.
With a plan in place, she sent a text to Elio, giving him a heads-up:
I have some ‘emergency’ alterations. See you at noon on Monday. Big kiss!—M.
Viggo returned to his house to find Diogo waiting patiently for his final walk of the evening.
“Come on, pal.” Viggo grabbed the dog’s leash and headed out the door.
It was a clear night with the lingering scent of spent fireworks mingling with the sea air and a faint hint of fried food.
It smelled like summer. And what a summer it was promising to be.
He had finished the renovation on his house and could truly enjoy his home, and he would begin training a new crew.
But it was that woman. The one who made him feel like a teenager.
He was looking forward to getting to know Madison a whole lot better.
Viggo and Diogo strolled for about fifteen minutes and returned home.
Now that all the hoopla of the day was over, he noticed how hyped he was.
In a good way. Excited. He pulled out his suit and shoes.
He had no idea what Madison had in mind, but he felt confident it would suit him well.
No pun intended, he thought. He was really looking forward to this new experience with the enigmatic woman.
Once he finished gathering the requested items, he needed something mellow.
Something to help him downshift before he hit the sheets.
He dimmed the lights and pulled out a Norman Brown album.
It was smooth jazz guitar in the style made popular by Wes Montgomery’s double octave elegance.
He wondered what kind of music Madison enjoyed.
That will be a good conversation starter, he thought to himself.
He poured a finger’s worth of brandy and sat on the sofa. He was struck by the scent of Madison’s perfume still lingering on the pillow. He rested his head, softly closed his eyes, and inhaled the essence of Madison Wainwright.
The following morning, Madison found a garment bag containing Viggo’s suit hanging on the front doorknob.
A box of shoes were in a burlap tote. She eyed the box first. The shoes looked like new.
She should have figured Viggo would be immaculate when it came to his wardrobe.
Military training. She unzipped the bag and found a nicely tailored, wool blend, charcoal gray Calvin Klein suit—well-made, but too heavy for a summer night.
The Hugo Boss fabric would be much more comfortable.
Again, her taste and knowledge of fashion was spot-on.