A Model of Perfection

by Pamela Gibson

  "That's a good thing, Vickie. I'm proud of you."

  She hoped Cassie was right. It would be embarrassing if it didn't work out. But she'd tough it out.

  And she was sure Matt would help her.

  They talked a while longer, then she ended the call and ambled back into the other room.

  "Matt?"

  He was gone.

  She sank onto the couch, leaning back where they'd been a few minutes ago. The cushions were warm from his body, and his scent lingered. She laid her head where his had been and curled into herself.

  Lust shook her, making her ache with need.

  If not for Cassie's call, they would have made love right here on this couch.

  He hadn't left because he didn't want her. It was the middle of the day, and he'd probably taken a break and had to get back. She had stuff to do, too. In an hour she was due at the Veteran's Hall for a rehearsal.

  They'd let themselves get carried away. Again.

  And it had been wonderful.

  Maybe she could coax him back tonight so they could finish this.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Veteran's Hall was a huge building in downtown St. Helena. A portable stage covered one wall of the largest room, and a collapsible runway thrust out into the audience. Metal folding chairs were set up on both sides of the runway.

  A cacophony of barks, yowls, and hisses came from cages of various sizes scattered over the backstage area. Low steps accessed it from each side, making it easy to keep cats on one side and dogs on the other.

  The only animal not in a container was the star of the show, Mr. Puffins, a white feline of indeterminate age. Today he wore a tiny sailor suit, complete with a hat tied under his chin. Someone had painstakingly painted his claws bright red.

  His owner, Lucinda Baudouin, carried him around on a white velvet pillow, securely tucked under her arm. His tail swished in contempt as he lorded it over the other felines.

  During the show, Vickie was to lead off in a fitted white gown provided by a local boutique. Mr. Puffins would be dressed in a black coat made to look like a tuxedo, and a tiny top hat. She was to walk him out on a white beaded leash.

  Lucinda, affectionately known around town as one of the grannies, had given her a twenty-minute lecture on how to pace the cat for maximum effectiveness...his, not hers. She'd dutifully listened and practiced—over and over—until she and Mr. Puffins had bonded to Lucinda's satisfaction.

  "Okay, let's go through this one more time." Sara DeLuca, the local dance teacher, lined everyone up backstage. The fashion show was scheduled to take an hour, and would be preceded by Sara’s prescool class, wearing pink cat costumes for a short opening dance routine to the Pink Panther theme song. It would end with three of Sara's teens dancing to a hip-hop tune by Snoop Dogg.

  Right before the closing dance, Vicky would appear one more time with Mr. Puffins in his regal King Kat outfit, as the showstopper. She'd be dressed in a strapless red velvet gown and a tiara. He'd wear a matching velvet coat and a tiny crown.

  Everyone clustered in back while Ava Schultz took the stage to practice the welcome. Next came the dogs in colorful coats, shirts, cargo shorts, tutus, and an array of spring headgear. Most were on leashes and went through their paces a little faster than they would during the actual show. One stopped to scratch, but a gentle tug had him walking again.

  "Okay, everyone. Remember to walk all the way out to the end, then pause for pictures, and turn around and walk back. The Sweet and Savory Bistro has made special dog and cat treats for each of you to carry...just in case."

  After a short break, the cats came out. Most were too independent for leashes, and instead were carried by their owners.

  After hurrying through felines, it was time for Vickie and Mr. Puffins, which was skipped since they practiced earlier.

  Shay took the microphone so she could be heard over the clamor of yowls, growls and chatter. "Thank you, everyone. Don't forget to sell tickets to your friends and family. And thank you to our special guest, Tori L, the Face of Innocence for Purity Cosmetics, who is graciously doing our show pro bono." Everyone clapped. "And by the way, she's practically one of us...she's Cassie Larkin's sister."

  A murmur arose from those who didn't know her relationship. She nodded and smiled, and turned to find Matt waiting by the door, arms folded over his chest.

  "Need a ride, oh famous one?"

  "Depends. Where are we going?"

  "I thought I’d try to coax you into having dinner with me later."

  "I'd love to."

  She suddenly felt light-headed, almost giddy.

  She turned away, only to find Shay coming after her. "I can't tell you how much this means to us, having you in the show, Victoria. And thank you for helping the young girls with their makeup, and for showing them how to walk down a runway."

  "I should thank you for getting me out of the house."

  It felt good to be making a positive contribution, and animals were always high on her list. Besides, she had fun getting to know the dogs and cats and their owners. In fact, everybody associated with the show had been very gracious.

  A few of the teenage girls had asked for her autograph, but everyone else treated her like a local. For the first time in a long time, she was looking forward to being on display, and she had Matt to thank for giving her the courage to come out of hiding.

  They left the building and Matt took her home.

  Home. She was starting to think of St. Helena as home.

  Matt leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "Just two more days."

  She sighed. “And no sign of Mario. Maybe he came to his senses and gave up."

  They got out and strolled toward the house. Matt slipped his hand in hers. "What will you do when Cassie comes back?"

  "Probably go back to Seattle...confess my sins to my parents. Warn them their princess has a few warts, especially if the pictures go live."

  "They won't want to look at them."

  She looked down, her heart full. "No, they won't."

  When they reached the shadowy porch, he drew her in for a hug. “I’ll be back around six to pick you up.”

  She didn’t want him to leave, but she was exhausted. She’d barely have time to take a quick shower. “I’ll be ready.”

  ・・・

  Matt cruised over to the shop and parked in his usual spot. Cade was busy talking to a tourist who was circling the racecar he'd acquired. He breezed by and went into his office, checked over the mail, and picked up his phone messages.

  He had ordering to do, and would finish about the time he needed to change clothes and clean up for his date. A tiny room in back had a shower for those occasions when he couldn't get home until late, or was too dirty to get into his car.

  The pitch of the conversation out in the garage rose, and he stopped to listen.

  "Are you sure you haven't seen her? She's going to be in a fashion show here tomorrow."

  "Wouldn't forget a face like that. Nope. She must be staying in Napa."

  Matt froze. Catching his breath, he swallowed and ambled out to the garage. "Lookin' for someone?"

  "Yeah. My girlfriend. Her name is Tori, and she's a model." He whipped out his phone and scrolled to a picture. "This is her."

  Matt raised his eyebrows at Cade and pretended to study the picture. "She in trouble or something?"

  "No. I'm supposed to meet her here."

  The guy thrust the phone back in his pocket and walked over to look at Matt's MG. He smoothed his hand over the hood of the car. "God, this is a classic model. A real beauty. Is she for sale?"

  "Nope."

  He scowled and pursed his lips. "How much, if it was?"

  "Haven't priced it. It's my baby. Took me a long time to find her and make sure she's in perfect shape."

  "I'd give my right arm to own a car like this."

  Matt grabbed a clean rag, wondering if the guy was about to drool all over his car.

  "Give me hope,�
� Mario persisted. “How much...if you change your mind?"

  Matt sighed and pulled a figure out of his brain, not sure what the car's actual value was on the auction market.

  "Whew, that's steep."

  "Not for some people."

  "I'm a race car driver, and I've only seen cars like this in old footage. Ever race her?"

  "Nope. It's my personal ride. You lookin' for a car like this?"

  Matt watched him caress the car with his eyes. "Not right now, but maybe later. I'm about to come into some money."

  Bile rose in Matt's throat. He wanted to grab the guy by the scruff of his shirt and slug him. He knew exactly where he thought he'd get the money. Putting a lid on his temper, he forced himself to remain calm.

  The man finally left and Matt pulled out his phone.

  "Guess who showed up."

  "Oh, God, it’s too soon."

  "Hang in there, darlin'. We’ll talk about it tonight.”

  He hung up and strolled out. The jerk was nowhere in sight. Maybe he'd gone to Napa to check hotels. Vickie might want to stay in tonight, not take a chance.

  But it was her choice.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Vickie leaned forward in the chair, her back stiff, her fingers clutching and unclutching the napkin in her lap. Allowing Matt to take her out to dinner had been a mistake. Every time someone walked by she cringed, thinking it was Mario.

  Her appetite gone, she set down her fork and stared into space.

  “You’d better eat, darlin’. Don’t want you fainting on top of Mr. Puffins tomorrow. There’d be a terrible shriek, and it wouldn’t be the cat...it would be Lucinda.””

  She smiled at his attempt to lighten her mood. Matt was such a good friend. What would she have done without him?

  You would have wallowed in misery and holed up in Cassie’s house, tensing every time someone came to the door.

  “Part of me wishes Mario would find me and make his demand. I want to be rid of him.” She plucked at the tablecloth.

  "But then he'll be back."

  "In two days, I won't care."

  Which was a lie. She'd given more thought about how shocked her parents would be. Especially her Mom, who taught Sunday school, and boasted to her book club about her "little princess" who'd become a model.

  Cass would find something funny, like ask her how many glasses of wine she had to drink before getting the painful Brazilian wax job she sported in the pictures.

  And Matt? What would he think?

  Matt paid the bill, and they walked out into the cool night air. The ride to Cassie's was blessedly short. Her earlier ardor had all but disappeared. All she wanted now was to climb into bed and pull the covers over her head.

  Matt stopped the car and they sat in silence. He reached over and twined his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. "You know he'll be at the fashion show tomorrow."

  "I know."

  "Can you handle it?"

  She sighed. Matt was trying to help. But the conversation made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy.

  "He won't buy a ticket. He'll stand outside the door, and when everyone's busy, he'll sneak in and lean against the wall at the back of the room, where I'll be sure to see him. And he'll stay there until he can corner me at the end of the show."

  "You want me and Cade to make sure he stays away? We're both Texans. We know how to deal with dickheads."

  "What are you going to do, string him up?"

  "Nothing so drastic, darlin'. I thought maybe we'd hogtie him and throw him in the alpaca corral. Lilly might put her ears back, gurgle, and...you know."

  She giggled. Now that was something she'd like to see.

  “I appreciate your offer, but I have to handle this myself. Agreed?”

  He let go of her hand and stroked the back of her head. She leaned closer, and when his mouth opened over hers, she let the heat flow into her. God, it felt so good. All her secret places ached for his touch.

  Maybe a healthy dose of sex would chase away her fears.

  "Do you want to come in for a nightcap?"

  "Music to my ears. But alas, you need your sleep." He kissed her again. "Rain check?"

  "Absolutely."

  He was right. She was exhausted, both from the rehearsal and the tension. She waved as he left, and let herself into the house. She half expected to find Mario in the dark recesses of the porch, but no. He wasn't there.

  Probably tucked up in motel, thinking about how he's going to spend my money.

  She fitted the key in the lock and opened the door, turning on the indoor light. An envelope lay just outside the door. She’d stepped on it when she came in.

  Panic threatened to choke her.

  She closed the door and threw it on the table. Taking a deep breath, she tore it open. He still wanted money…in cash. She was to leave it at the Napa Hotel tomorrow. The pictures and negatives would be in an envelope at the desk. Fair exchange.

  She sank to the floor and curled into a ball. It would wipe out most of her savings, but she had to pay. But ten thousand dollars on a Saturday? What bank would give her that much cash?

  She strode into the kitchen, slamming doors and cupboards until she found Cassie’s chocolate stash. Reaching into the bag of M&Ms, she shoved a handful into her mouth and kept crunching until the bag was gone.

  The bank opened at ten. She didn’t have to be at the Veteran’s Hall until two o’clock. She’d have time to do the deed. It might have to be a cashier’s check made out to Mario. He wouldn’t like it, but she might not have a choice.

  If only he’d shown up Monday.

  This would be the last time.

  And then he can post the pictures and go fuck himself.

  ・・・

  Matt put the car in gear and drove to the shop. It had taken every ounce of willpower to leave, but he had to do it. Cade texted him before they left the restaurant, telling him he’d seen Mario go into the Napa Grand Hotel.

  He swallowed hard, willing his heart to stop thudding in his chest.

  He could do this.

  He turned off the engine and climbed out. The historic Napa Grand Hotel, recently restored by Marco DeLuca, was a town showplace. It was also expensive, meaning Mario must think his pocketbook would soon be enriched. Or he'd borrowed money to get here.

  The hotel was only a few blocks away, and Matt covered the distance in record time. He hoped the jerk was there. If he wasn't, he'd wait.

  "Hi Matt. What brings you here?" The desk clerk looked past Matt's shoulder, as if expecting a date to be with him.

  "I'm looking for a guest. Mario Cardozza. Has he checked out yet?"

  "No. He's still registered."

  Matt leaned forward, elbows on the desk. "I have to talk to him. We found something while working on his car. Unusual. But he's going to be real pleased. I want to surprise him. Is he in?"

  The clerk checked his computer. "I'm not supposed to give out room numbers. But since it's you, second floor, just opposite the elevator. Go on up."

  He took the stairs and pounded on Mario's door. It opened and Matt pushed his way in.

  "Hey, what are you doing?"

  "Sit down, Cardozza. I'm going to make your day."

  CHAPTER TEN

  The room was full. Chairs squeaked, and voices murmured over barks and howls from behind the curtain. A white duster draped to the floor along both sides of the runway. Paper hearts were pinned at strategic points along the edges, with a cluster of pink and red hearts at the end. An oversized banner was pinned over the top of the curtain with the name of the event, "For the Love of Animals." Two large baskets of pink and red roses sat on each side of the main stage.

  Shay moved from cage to cage, calming nervous owners and volunteers who were showing the dogs. Some of the canine models had forever homes. Others were residents of St. Paws or the nearby shelter. All the cats were with owners.

  Very wise.

  Leashed dogs seemed anxious to leave their kennels, and only
one or two were shy. But Vickie worried about the cats. Most would be carried. What if one got spooked?

  Shay peeked out the curtain. "Full house. I knew we could do it!" She beamed up at Vickie. "Look."

  Vickie peered out between the folds of the curtain, searching for Mario. If he was there, he wasn't showing his face yet.

  Probably hopes I'll stumble when I spot him.

  She scanned the chairs once more before letting the folds drop into place. She'd expected Matt to be in the front row, but he wasn't there either. Maybe something came up at the shop.

  Ava fiddled with her hair while her mother tried to pull down her short skirt. The other teenagers giggled in a corner, watching one of the firemen put a Dalmatian through his paces. The guy was shirtless, wearing turnout pants with suspenders, boots and hat. Vickie'd been told he was Mr. May on the Cuties with Booties calendar that raised funds for neutering and spaying.

  "Positions, everyone. It's show time."

  Ava strutted out to the podium, a paper clenched in her hand. She gave her welcome with the poise of a seasoned announcer, thanked everyone, and turned the event over to Sara. Ava’s mom beamed backstage.

  Next came the toddlers doing their Pink Panther routine. Then Shay came out and took over the microphone.

  "Let's start with two familiar faces in the fashion world...one furry local, the other one new to our community—Tori L, with Mr. Puffins."

  Strains of "Let Me Entertain You" from Gypsy filled the room with laughter as Vickie took Mr. Puffins' beaded leash from Lucinda. "Come on, fuzz face. Let's show them what we've got."

  The curtains opened, and Mr. Puffins fluffed his fur, then pranced out ahead of Vickie, his top hat swaying a bit, his tuxedo fitted over his body to perfection. They paused at the end of the runway while Mr. Puffins stopped to lick his paw, then they turned and pranced back to the stage, tails swaying. Shay described his tiny tuxedo, complete with vest and tie, and the crowd applauded wildly.

  Vickie handed him over to Lucinda. "The Fancy Feast cat couldn't have done better. He's a natural."

  Next up were the dogs. Most walked out, paused, and returned, although one stopped in the middle of the stage to lick his parts to the delight of the audience. Dressed as a pirate, the dog had black fur surrounding one eye, which had given rise to his costume. Only one dog stopped and refused to walk in front of the group. It was a Terrier wearing a pink bow in her hair and a fluffy pink skirt. A treat, hastily retrieved from the owner's pocket, gave her the encouragement she needed.