Her jaw tightened. “I don’t know why we’re even attempting a conversation.”
He was beginning to agree with her, but before he could say anything Vivi continued.
“You know, I’m not one of your fans, or some reporter you can charm or seduce. I’m not interested, so it doesn’t work on me.”
That was a slap to his ego. It was also a bald-faced lie, because she wouldn’t be so damned upset about it otherwise. “If I had been trying to seduce you, you’d know. The flying pigs would have been a dead giveaway.”
Vivi’s lips all but disappeared as she bit back whatever she wanted to say. Finally, she pried them open again. “Is there an actual reason you stopped me? Or are you just being your usual annoying self?”
“Silly me—I was just trying to be friendly.”
“Wow. Your definition of friendly is…insane.”
“And you need to look up the definitions of civilized, mature and appropriate. What’s gotten your panties all in a twist, anyway?”
Damn it. I shouldn’t have brought up her panties.
The look on her face said she agreed—albeit for a different reason. “The condition of my panties is none of your concern.”
That was the truth. That reminder didn’t help shut down his imagination any, though. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to loosen up some. Relax a little.”
“You’re giving me advice? You’re supposed to be my role model for lifestyle choices?” With a laugh and a snort that could only be described as disdainful, she added, “Maybe you need to look up irony while you’ve got your dictionary out.”
“I think I’m doing pretty well, thank you very damn much.”
That eyebrow arched up and it infuriated him.
“I can see where you’d think that. My goals, however, are a bit higher than just sex, drugs and rock and roll.”
“Excuse me?”
She thought for a moment. “No. There’s no excuse for you.”
For the first time in his life Connor was speechless. Vivi took advantage of the moment, turning on her heel and walking away before he had a chance to gather his wits and rebut.
Vivi could be cold and cutting, and he had no idea what had flipped the switch. He’d actually thought they were making good progress today toward some mutual tolerance.
Boy, were you wrong.
This situation had just crossed into farce territory. He couldn’t stop thinking about the panties of a woman who’d just as soon shoot him as look at him. And, since he appreciated and returned the sentiment, the fact he couldn’t stop thinking about Vivi and her panties—and the possible lack thereof—was just insult to injury.
This wasn’t a farce. It was a nightmare. The very definition of insanity.
How many days left until Mardi Gras?
CHAPTER FIVE
THREE days later, Vivi was pretty sure she was up to facing Connor again. Well, she was ready to fake it, at least.
Tonight was the Saints and Sinners jazz cruise, and the jazz cruise was corporate money night. Representatives from all the major donors would be there, supposedly to be wooed into opening up their checkbooks. In reality this was just a perk for the donors—another chance to see and be seen and get their pictures in the paper for being good corporate citizens. And she was expected to stand politely next to Connor.
I can do that. Even if it kills me.
Deep down, she was afraid it just might.
No matter how often she reminded herself how much she disliked Connor, and repeated her top-ten list of reasons why, she simply could not extinguish that low-grade fire in her belly that had burned all week long. It was bad enough that she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about sex, but she could at least rationalize that away because, sadly, her sex life was a bit pitiful at the moment. The disturbing thing was that she couldn’t stop thinking about sex with Connor, which was utterly and absolutely insane. She’d spent her entire life not thinking about sex with Connor because…well, it was Connor.
Maybe once she had small talk and donors to occupy her thoughts, Connor would be forgotten—at least temporarily. She’d be able to make it through the evening then.
A girl can hope.
Dress, wings, shoes, glitter. She’d have to wait until she got to the boat to get dressed. There was no way she could ride in a car in those wings. There were some serious design flaws in that outfit. She’d have to grab one of the servers or someone to help, but she’d worry about that later. She grabbed a lightweight shawl because it would be chilly on the river and carried everything to the living room.
Lorelei sat on the couch, flipping through the paper. She looked up when Vivi entered. “You ready?”
There was no way Lorelei knew just how loaded that question was. “I guess.”
“There’s a great write-up in here about the work we did Tuesday.”
“I know.”
“And there’s a very interesting picture of you and Connor.”
She knew that too. What she didn’t know was who had taken it. She was horrified to realize that not only had people witnessed their argument, they’d taken a picture—and the paper had printed it. So far no one had come forward saying they’d overheard anything, though, and she took small comfort in that much.
“What were you two fighting about anyway?”
Vivi tried to sound casual. “The shape of the earth? The color of the sky? I can’t even remember,” she lied.
“You’re a really bad liar. You know that, right?”
To avoid eye contact, she dug for her lipstick. “He said something about me being uptight, that I needed to relax or something.”
“Well, he’s not wrong about that.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You’re running yourself into the ground.”
“Between the gallery and Saints and Sinners—”
“And the dozen other organizations that lean on you to get things done, you’re busy. I know. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re letting this town suck you dry. I know you want to be useful. I know you really want to help. But you’ve surpassed every goal you set out to accomplish. Everyone loves and respects you. They’re in awe of you. So give yourself a break.”
“I don’t have time to take a break.”
“Let me ask you something. Do you enjoy all the stuff that you do?”
“It’s satisfying and important stuff.”
“Yes, but do you enjoy it?”
Vivi thought for a second. The answer surprised her. “You know, not as much as I thought I would.”
“That’s what I suspected. Now, when was the last time you did something for yourself, just because you wanted to? Or went to a party or dinner that didn’t have another purpose?”
Vivi couldn’t come up with something fast enough to satisfy Lorelei.
Lorelei sighed dramatically. “See? It’s Mardi Gras and this whole town is heaving with people here to party and have a good time. But not you.”
“Drunken debauchery isn’t my idea of a good time.”
“And you know this how? When was the last time you were drunk or debauched?”
Never. Not even in college. There had always been the worry that it might come back to haunt her. That sounded pitiful, even to her. “I gotta go. I think I hear the car out front.”
“Just think about it. You don’t have to be a real saint. There’s no Miss Perfect title to be won. You don’t have to go full-out Sinner, either, but consider being just a little bit bad. It won’t kill you. You might even enjoy it.”
Like she needed something else on her plate to think about. “And when, exactly, will I fit that into my schedule?”
Lorelei put a hand to her heart and her face melted into disappointed worry. “Oh, Vivi, you’re worse than I thought. This has nothing to do with a schedule. You only have one life.” Then she smiled and squeezed Vivi’s arm. “Carpe diem, girl. Laissez les bon temps rouler. Enjoy yourself and quit worrying so much about appearances and what other people thi
nk.”
She was about to go out in public again in a set of freakin’ wings. Appearances, indeed. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
“I guess that’s a start.” Lorelei patted her arm. “Have fun tonight. Raise lots of money.”
Vivi did think about it on the ride to the dock. Lorelei had a point; even she herself realized that she’d succeeded in her quest and there wasn’t anything else to prove. Or anyone to really prove it to.
And for once she was very tempted. She, however, was an expert at resisting temptation. Giving in seemed weak. Anyway, if she did give in who would she be? That was the scary part.
Maybe she could take baby steps in that direction. See how it went before she committed fully.
As the car came to a stop and the driver came around to open her door Vivi shook off Lorelei’s words. She had to be the current Vivi tonight and get through Saints and Sinners first.
An hour later the Mississippi Belle was packed to the seams as it set off, and Vivi spent far too much energy trying not to bump people with her wings. It was one thing to wear that getup at the ball, but with everyone else here in normal cocktail attire, she felt a little overdressed and awkward.
There were toasts and light snacks before the bands got into the action and people started dancing. Other than the first toast, where she had to stand next to Connor, the mingling kept them far enough apart that her embarrassment over the other day could be kept to a minimum. Connor was enough of a topic of conversation, though, to make her occasionally uncomfortable, but the heat in the room could be blamed for any tell-tale color in her cheeks.
Suddenly a buzz rippled through the crowd, and Vivi turned from her conversation with the mayor to face the stage with everyone else. “What’s going on?” she whispered to the lady in front of her.
“Connor Mansfield is going to sing,” the woman gushed.
She was sixty if she was a day, and Vivi felt her eyebrows go up when the woman giggled like a teenager.
Every woman alive, indeed.
Connor mounted the stage to a roar of applause. He’d removed his wings, and the black leather outfit looked far less ridiculous under the spotlights. He looked every inch the rock god, and when he sat at the piano bench Vivi got a good look at his shoulders—all oiled skin stretching over muscle as he flexed his arms and loosened up. Mercy. It was a mouthwatering sight.
The collective feminine sigh told her she wasn’t alone in her reaction.
“I hadn’t really planned on doing this tonight. Just don’t tell my agent, okay? She’ll expect a cut of the money,” Connor joked as he ran his fingers across the keys like he was warming up. “Y’all might know this one,” he said with a little smile as he started to play.
The room erupted in applause. Of course the crowd knew the song; “Whiskey and Honey” was one of his biggest hits, and it played almost constantly on the radio.
Connor leaned into the microphone and that sexy baritone filled the room.
He sat down at the bar,
And said, “Gimme what you got,
That’ll numb this pain and lie to me tonight.”
Vivi willed herself to smile politely and clap along, but her insides were melting. She needed something numbing herself. Connor’s voice was whiskey on that low-grade fire, and the heat was building. It just wasn’t fair. She’d picked the wrong night to start thinking about being a different Vivi. Damn Lorelei for putting ideas about being bad in her head. That idea kept swirling around with the other bad thoughts in her head and that was very dangerous.
She said, “Honey, what you need,
Is something we’ve got.
Sit right on back—”
Vivi tried to make her way to the other side of the room as unobtrusively as possible, but her stupid wings kept bumping people. Thankfully almost everyone was enthralled with Connor’s performance and the interruption was shrugged off.
Then Connor launched into the chorus.
She served a little whiskey and honey.
It goes down real easy when you drink it slow.
She can stop a heart and free a weary soul.
She sang a lot like whiskey…whiskey and honey.
The whole room was singing now, and Vivi felt a stab of something between anger and jealousy. It was a nice change from the earlier confusion. This was Connor’s event now. He owned it as surely as he owned the crowd. She wanted to be angry at him for grabbing the spotlight and making tonight about him, but at the same time she was jealous he was able to do it so easily. And everyone in the room was glad he did. They felt special now: the lucky few attendees at a private concert.
Think of the positives. Connor was giving the crowd what they wanted, and in return the crowd would donate money—even more than they’d originally planned.
She actually wasn’t upset at Connor’s showboating, or jealous of his popularity. He was right to be working the angles he had.
No, it just made her situation worse. Her personal situation. She was lusting after a man she couldn’t have. Dear heaven, Connor was the one man she shouldn’t be lusting after at all. The sound of his voice washed over her, fanning those flames and making it hard to focus on anything else.
She was pitiful. Pathetic. Insane.
She pushed open the door to the deck; getting outside would lessen the shock and sensations. The cool air helped some, but not enough.
One week down. Three to go.
She wasn’t going to make it.
Three songs and his hands were burning. He was supposed to be resting them, letting the inflammation subside and heal. So much for that idea. At least he’d been able to leave it at three, turning the stage and spotlight back over to the band.
Connor held his beer in one hand, letting the cold soothe that hand some before switching and giving the other a little relief. It wasn’t ideal, but it helped and did so in an unobtrusive way. The banker talking to him had no idea—which was fair, he thought, because Connor really hadn’t been listening and had no idea what he was talking about.
He was dripping sweat from his performance, and the heat from the mass of bodies in the room kept him from cooling down. “Can you excuse me? I’m going to step outside and cool off.”
“Sure thing. Maybe we could talk later about my idea?”
Damn. He should have listened a bit more carefully. God only knew what the banker—whose name he didn’t even know—might have in mind. Thankfully he was saved from having to make even the most noncommittal of commitments by the arrival of a slightly drunk woman who stumbled over the banker and spilled her drink onto his shirt. Connor used the distraction to slip out the side door.
The air cooled him immediately and the breeze off the river helped dry the sweat. It felt good.
He wasn’t the only one escaping the crowd. Small groups of people lined the railings, but it was much quieter out here. The music inside was muted by the walls, the thrumming of the engines and the splashes of the big paddle wheel. The breeze carried conversations out over the river, making the deck feel more private and isolated than it really was. Meanwhile, the lights of the city looked as lively as ever, even from this distance, and he inhaled the sights and smells of home.
He made his way toward the back of the boat, away from the windows, lest anyone inside see him outside alone and think he needed company. He threw a glance over his shoulder as he turned the corner and bumped into something. He turned quickly, and feathers hit him in the mouth.
Vivi jumped, apologizing before she’d fully turned around. When she saw it was him, the words died in an instant. She stepped away and awkwardness settled around her as he felt the tension rise. That wasn’t anger, either. It was tension relating to the other things that had happened this week. Seemed she wasn’t quite past that yet.
Oddly, neither was he. It didn’t seem as cold out here now.
“Show over already?”
“Should I be insulted that you didn’t stick around to listen?”
Vivi snorte
d. “I’m sure no one noticed my absence.”
Like he’d been asking for the additional attention. “Why are you hiding back here?”
“It’s noisy and hot inside. I needed a break, so I slipped out for a minute.”
Vivi had a shawl wrapped around her, but it couldn’t be doing much good, hiked up over her wings like it was. It covered her arms, but he could see her shivering. She’d been out here longer than a minute or two.
“You should go back inside. You’re turning blue.”
“I’m perfectly fine.” Her chin lifted regally, but her chattering teeth ruined the effect.
“Seriously, you look like Angel Smurf.”
Vivi set her shoulders. “Is there a reason you’re out here looking for me? If not, just butt out. I’m a big girl and I’ll go back inside when I’m good and ready.” She’d raised her voice to a near shout, and a door opened behind them and a crew member carrying a box exited to give them a strange look before scurrying away. Vivi cleared her throat and smiled. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m good.”
In other words Vivi would stand here until she began suffering from exposure just to spite him. And for some reason that pure, completely irrational stubbornness infuriated him. Connor caught the door with his foot before it closed and reached for Vivi’s arm.
“What the—?” Vivi sputtered as he pulled her inside.
The door slammed with a satisfying bang. The little storage room was quiet except for the throb of the engines and nominally warmer. Her grinned at her. “At least stand out of the wind.”
“You are insufferable, Connor Mansfield.” She tried to move past him, but he blocked her. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Move, or I will kill you where you stand.”
“Sorry. I can’t let you be an idiot.”
“What difference does it make to you?”
He paused. Excellent question. “If you end up in the hospital with pneumonia, you’ll have to forfeit the competition.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Warm up in here or go back inside. It’s up to you.”
“Why the hell do you care so much?”
“Because you’re acting like a two-year-old instead of a grown woman.”
The Downfall of a Good Girl Page 6
