Victoria's Got a Secret (17 page)

She liked the bar. It felt comfortable and familiar. But it lacked his required level of style.

At the moment, she didn’t exactly fit in either. She was overdressed. The outfit showed off a good deal of leg. The red wig hid her Victoria side from her real-life, but she felt oddly out of place wearing it now.

“Jennifer?”

She froze. She’d know that voice anywhere. It played in her dreams and owned her memories. She turned and faced the man who once meant everything to her.

His green eyes wandered over her face. “That is you, right?”

“Hello, Paul.”

The years had been good to him. He was tan and trim. Handsome with a sweet smile that still pinged her heart. He wore black pants and tee.

He fit in just right with this place. Better than he would have when they were together.

“I’ve never seen you here before.” He rested his elbow on the bar and leaned in.

The closeness enveloped her, along with the clean scent of his skin. She knew he crowded her so they could hear over the steady hum of conversation from the people around her, but for a second she let herself believe this went deeper.

“I’m just making a quick stop.” She shouted that fact right into his ear.

Paul took a quick glance around the bar. “Alone?”

“No.”

He smiled. “Ah.”

She looked at his hand and noted there was no ring. She’d heard through the gossip trail that he was living with a woman named Wendy. A woman who looked like Jennifer’s exact opposite, which she found interesting.

“What’s with the wig?” he asked.

“Just playing.”

“I like your real hair.” He lifted his hand as if he was going to touch there but then let it drop.

“People like to pretend.” It felt like a childish and stupid game. Paul didn’t appear to judge, but she measured her life by her time with him, and this period suddenly fell short.

“You’ve never had to be anyone other than who you are. Jennifer was always pretty special in my book.”

Her heart melted a fraction. “How is it that, even after all this time, you know the exact right thing to say to knock me off guard?”

“I wonder why you think you’d need to be in battle stance around me in the first place.”

She realized she didn’t.

She ran her hand over the fake hair. In Preston’s world, she dressed up and fit in. It all struck her as odd now. “I wanted to try something new.”

“I can understand that.”

“Have you? Tried anything new, I mean?”

“Just got back from a dive trip. Took up photography. Typical boring stuff.”

It was honest and real. Everything about him was. “You are anything but boring.”

She looked past Paul and saw Preston leave the manager’s office and start through the crowd toward her. A stark desperation ran through her and settled in her stomach. She didn’t want these two men to meet. Didn’t want her world with Preston to taint her memories of Paul.

“I should go.” She tried to act cool, but her movements were jerky and fast.

“It’s okay.”

She stopped glancing around, waiting for her worlds to collide, and focused on Paul. “What is?”

“Whatever has you so upset.”

“I’m fine.” She tried to walk past him and get to the door.

He stopped her with a gentle hand on her elbow and turned her back around to face him. “You sure?”

She was tired of people asking her that. She absolutely didn’t want Paul to think her life was anything but great. “Of course.”

“For the record? As hot as this look is, and it really is, I prefer the real you.”

Her defensive shields raised. That fast, they snapped into place. “Maybe this is the real me.”

Paul let her go. “And maybe not. Either way, I hope you figure it out.”

Eighteen

Don’t let fear keep you from getting what you need.

—Grandma Gladys, The Duchess

I
T WAS 1999, AND SHE NO LONGER KNEW WHERE TIME
went. So much had happened in the years since she met Preston. Some of it was good, most of it was exciting, but the dark times lingered in her memory as well.

The darkness receded as she watched him sit at the kitchen table with papers spread out in front of him, listening to whatever the man across from him was saying. Allan was a business associate. A guy who connected inventors with investors. Allan and Preston did business together, and Allan showed up today to talk about some big opportunity.

As Preston laughed at something Allan said, she wondered if there were two of him. The rational and fun side, the part that made her smile and challenged her to political discussions. Then there was the demanding, break-her-down side. The longer they were together, the more difficulty she had telling the sides apart.

He knew people everywhere and had his fingers in everything. He listened, watched, and waited. No matter how he treated her, he had this ability to charm even the hardest heart. With the right smile and a well-placed comment, he could part people with their money and make things happen.

He rolled with big players, enjoying drinking lunches as they discussed everything from banking to media. He talked with owners and investors, always on the lookout for an opportunity. People trusted him, and he returned their belief in him by making piles of money.

“Maybe Victoria would be interested,” Allan said.

“Jennifer,” she mumbled under her breath.

Preston held out his hand. “It’s an interesting venture.”

She went over to him because the outstretched arm suggested she better. “What is it?”

“You’re not going to believe it.” Preston tapped his pen as a look of smug satisfaction slid across his mouth. “An Internet start-up.”

“You hear about one of those every week.” She felt his heated scowl on her face, but she didn’t back down. “The Internet is still new. It’s all a gamble.”

“Some hit.”

She was challenging him in front of his business associate just for the sake of ticking him off, but she couldn’t stop. “Many don’t.”

His jaw tightened. “This is different.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I need a woman. The right woman,” Allan said.

Sounded ominous. “For what exactly?”

“A friend of a colleague, a guy named Walt, wants to deliver something so out there, so risky, it has to work.” Allan’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “A show where a woman would deliver the news and weather . . .”

So far she didn’t hear anything original or worthy of the bright shine in his eyes and obvious thrill thrumming through the man. “Yeah?”

“While she strips.”

Her brain shuddered to a halt. “Strips?”

Preston chuckled. “Gets naked. She tells the audience what’s happening in the world while she takes her clothes off. It would be called Naked News.”

Her breath refused to come for long enough that she wondered if her lungs had shut down. “A naked woman delivering the news.”

Allan leaned across the table with all the energy of a little boy desperate go outside on a rainy day. “Right. This isn’t just about showing off bodies or sterile photos in a magazine. We’re talking live women broadcasted right into people’s living rooms. No waiting. Men can hear their voices and see them. Appreciate them as real human beings.”

It struck her as scary but brilliant. “But from a perspective of being smart. Not porn, but news.”

Allan slapped the table. “Exactly! Women reporting the news as they strip.”

“I’d watch it just to see how it would work.” She admired any woman who would have the guts to try it.

She wasn’t a prude. She viewed sex as healthy and normal and a woman’s body as beautiful. But clothes provided protection. They separated her from the world and let her be whoever she wanted to be.

“It would be a subscription-only program, an add-on, until it gains an audience. The goal is for it to become self-supporting. We’d be looking for ways to grow viewership long-term.” Allan ticked off the selling points as he shuffled through his papers.

The idea sounded so raw and appealing in her head. She loved the thought of women feeling comfortable with their bodies and celebrating their flaws instead of hiding them. Shedding inhibitions and presenting something new, in a way that no one had tried, was a perfect match for the Internet.

Where Preston fit in was her question. “What’s your role?”

He held up his hands. “Just talking it through with Allan here.”

Allan jumped in. “My job is to find a woman—the right woman— one who is smart and beautiful and more than a little adventurous. Someone who can command attention with both her body and her brain.”

Jennifer tried to imagine who would take the risk. The idea of taking off her clothes, of stripping bare without any shield or protection, terrified her. Being naked meant being vulnerable, opening herself up to criticism and horrible comments. In her view, the potential flaw in getting the idea launched might be in finding that brave woman who would willingly sign up to be judged.

Allan shifted in his chair. “Victoria—”

She hated that Preston spread the name confusion to someone else. “Jennifer.”

“Does the woman Allan is describing sound like anyone you know?” Preston asked.

She tried not to be flattered since he usually followed a compliment with a subtle slam. “We know a lot of pretty women who take risks.”

“That’s not what I’m asking you.”

But he wasn’t asking her. Not really. He was pushing Jennifer aside to highlight Victoria, the woman he viewed as his creation. And it was her fault. She’d nurtured the persona. She opened the door and changed her look and gave her fantasies an outlet. She’d picked a name and set up the life. Blaming him for all of that wasn’t fair.

Alan lightly tapped the table. “Are you interested?”

“In stripping in front of a camera so who knows how many people can see?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Allan’s face fell. “Why?”

“That life doesn’t sound like me.” It was the woman she wished she could be, but that little girl from Sarnia still had boundaries, lines she feared crossing.

Preston cleared his throat. “It sounds exactly like something Victoria Sinclair would do.”

If he had wanted to pick the exact wrong thing to say, he’d done it. “It’s too much.”

“Fine.” His disappointment thumped through the room like a frantic out-of-control heartbeat. “But it’s an opportunity to be someone.”

“I am someone.”

Allan’s gaze flipped from Jennifer to Preston and back again.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Exactly,” Preston said. “Some woman will see the opportunity and not be afraid to take it.”

“Well, let me leave you two.” Allan gathered up his papers and shoved them into a briefcase. He grabbed a card out of the top before shutting it and held it out to her. “Here. If you change your mind, call me. The offer is open.”

She watched as Preston showed Allan to the door. She waited until the lock clicked to say anything else. “You think I can’t appreciate how this could take off.”

But she did. The mix of beauty and sex and news could prove irresistible at the right price. Men paid for less all the time.

“I’m saying, as usual, you go right to the edge and then run away. It’s your pattern.”

“That’s not fair.” The observation stung. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard the words. Paul had frequently accused her of running when things got tough.

“Isn’t it?” Preston reached around her and grabbed a leather binder off the table on his way to the bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

“I know women. I might be able to help Allan find what he needs.” Preston flipped through some pages. “Definitely Maryann or Lynne. Both would be perfect.”

He named the two most beautiful women in their circle of friends. They were untamed and open. They grabbed life with a gusto that left her envious.

Jennifer had never questioned his fidelity before. He’d never given her a reason, but watching the sly smile inch across his face as he thought about other women made her wonder. All those afternoons while she was at the office or weeks when she was on travel and he was working from home. She’d assumed he kept his days professional. For some reason, the explanation now rang cold.

Two months passed. Allan called three times. He couldn’t find the right woman to film the pilot. The Internet was too new and the idea too odd for anyone to jump on board. The longer the days dragged on without a viable candidate, the angrier Preston got at her. He insisted she was wasting the perfect opportunity. He thought her fear made him look bad in front of Allan. As usual, Preston was all about Preston.

But she started thinking about how the idea could impact her. She’d searched for something her entire life, something that would take her out of Sarnia and eventually out of the politics of an office environment. Her father and sister were artists. Jennifer appreciated a steady paycheck from a big company, but she loved the idea of trying an idea that depended on some piece of her to succeed. She wanted to throw herself into something and try to make it work.

She remembered walking away from Paul in her search for something more. Now that something had dropped right in front of her, and she was terrified to take it. The idea of showing her body, of opening herself up to ridicule, scared the hell out of her. But missing this chance terrified her even more.