Chasing Vivi

by A. M. Hargrove

  “There’s nothing to worry about, Vivi. Just think, you’ll be getting a dose of the mega boobs too.”

  “You’re not making me feel any better, you big goofball.”

  He throws his arm around me and pulls me into his side.

  “You will. Have your camera ready for this train wreck.”

  Then I say, “Maybe you should call or give them a heads-up we’re coming.”

  “That’s the last thing I want to do. Catching him unprepared is for the best. Then he’ll be defenseless.”

  “Was he always that mean?”

  Prescott stares at the cars we speed past. “I was so busy acting out and trying to cause him as much trouble as I could, I honestly can’t remember. He was always pissed at me, but I thought it was because of my shitty behavior. Now, after knowing what I know, maybe it wasn’t. We probably just fed off each other. So toxic, you know? And then when I was a teenager—around fifteen, I think—I told him about why I didn’t speak for all that time.”

  He talks about how he told his dad that he was afraid his mom couldn’t breathe in the body bag and that she was suffocating, but no one could hear her. But his dad only looked at him and laughed. Basically let him know he was just a dumb kid.

  I take his hand, only to show him how much I care. Any loving parent would’ve supported their son in that moment and not laughed at him.

  “I’m sorry. It’s too bad he couldn’t see what beauty and love was in your heart.”

  Prescott is silent for the rest of the way to the house.

  When we pull into the long drive, I admire the home when we finally make it there. It’s a beautiful, sprawling brick mansion. Unlike the Whitworths’, which is a white New England styled home, this one reminds me of something you’d see on a Virginia plantation. “This is really beautiful, Prescott.”

  “Yeah. Too bad my memories aren’t.”

  I squeeze his hand.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  “Yep.”

  The four of us traipse to the front door and ring the bell. I’m shocked when the large-boobed woman answers. And nothing could’ve prepared me for those breasts. Sara was right about the misguided direction of each of them. They are the weirdest looking things ever. She wears a super low cut V-neck sweater that is way too tight for her. I almost feel like my eyes are spreading out, trying to focus. But the bad thing is I can’t stop looking at them.

  “Spectacular, aren’t they?” she asks.

  “Uh, well, they’re really something, all right.”

  “You know, you could use some enhancing yourself.” Our eyes are focused on each other’s chests. If this were any other situation, it would be funny as hell.

  Prescott nudges me as I yank myself out of the boobtrance I’m in. Holy hell.

  “Jeanine, this is Vivienne. Is Dad home?” he asks brusquely.

  She tips her head to look up at him and I finally get a good view of her face. Holy swollen lips. They look like two of those balloons the guy at the circus uses to twist up into wiener dogs.

  What in the name of all fucks did his dad see in her?

  She holds out her hand and says, “A pleasure.” Her tone indicates the opposite along with her sneer. But I get the full shebang of her teeth with that sneer. They are so huge they look like dice. They have to be fake veneers. No one has teeth that big, not unless you’re a horse. Is there anything real on this woman?

  I do my best not to grimace as I take her hand and say, “Nice to meet you.” This woman is a freak show. No one could’ve prepared me for this.

  “Your dad is upstairs. I’ll get him.” She turns and walks up the massive staircase, sashaying her hips like we’re at a striptease show.

  When she’s gone, Prescott lets out a chuckle. “Warned you, didn’t I?”

  “Not nearly enough preparation.”

  “Vivi, you have to get that look off your face. I almost cracked up when you saw her tits.”

  “Well, damn. Those things are an anomaly.”

  “In a word.”

  I peek at the security guys, and they stand there like statues. How do they manage it?

  Miss Jug-A-Lug comes waltzing back down the steps and reports that Jeff will be down shortly. She aims her finger at Prescott. “You’d better not upset him. When he came back here on Christmas, I thought he was gonna have a heart attack. I was so worried about him.”

  “I’m sure.” I’m surprised he doesn’t add an eye roll. I have a hard time not doing it.

  A few minutes later, Jeff appears. He’s scowling. “What do you want?”

  “I came to offer you a deal,” Prescott says.

  “What kind of a deal?”

  “I’d like to sell this place to you for under market value. I had a soft appraisal done and ran some comps and you can have it for thirty percent less than what I can list it for. It’s a damn good deal.”

  His dad laughs. “Is this a joke?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Why would I want to buy this place when I can stay here without having to give you a penny?”

  “I don’t know why you believe that, but it’s not true.”

  “I’ve consulted an attorney.”

  “So have I,” Prescott says.

  Jeff argues that he’s set a precedent by living here all these years and that Samuel and Sara never forced him out. Prescott argues that they didn’t because the two of them were on good terms. They go back and forth, and in the end, Prescott states that it will end up in court if he doesn’t legally own the house.

  “I’ll push every button I have and with the fact that you are not even related to me, do you honestly think they’ll award you this house?”

  His father smiles smugly. “After I tell them how you’ve made multiple passes at my wife they will.”

  Now it gets interesting. I no longer observe Jeff, but switch my focus to Jeanine. She blinks rapidly, touches her nose a bunch, grabs her ear, and shifts from one foot to the other. Then she crosses her arms over her massive chest—no small feat indeed—and looks extremely uncomfortable. No doubt, she’s covering up her lies.

  “Go ahead. I’ll subpoena the pool guys from West Palm. I have all their names and addresses. It won’t work.”

  Now she’s shrinking in her little spot where she stands. It’s kind of hard to shrink balloon-sized lips and watermelon boobs, though.

  “I never made a single pass at her and I don’t give a fuck what she says.” Prescott stands firm. “This offer is good for one week. If you don’t take it by then, be prepared for an all-out legal battle. I won’t lose. I. Never. Lose.”

  Then he grabs my hand and we head back out the door.

  When we get outside, Jeff says, “I want a dollar figure on your offer.”

  “You’ll have it tomorrow.”

  We climb into the car and drive off.

  “He has to know she cheats. Her posture indicated she was a liar.”

  Prescott says, “He doesn’t want to believe it. I think he likes the fact that she’s young.”

  “But he’s not that old. It’s stupid on his part.”

  “To be honest, I really don’t give a shit anymore. If he wants to spend his life with a woman like that, fine with me.”

  “Do you think he’ll take your offer?”

  “I do. He has the money. He’s just cheap and trying to get around having to pay for it.”

  “Maybe if he cut back on Barbie’s boobs, Ken would have a lot more money in his piggy bank.”

  He slaps his thigh and barks out a laugh. “I have to tell Grand that one. She never did care for Jeanine. I think the first time they met, Jeanine recommended her surgeon for Grand’s crow’s feet.”

  “Kind of like she did for enhancing my chest?”

  “Yeah, and to that point, you’ll never have anything done to your chest. It’s perfect, just so we’re clear.”

  “Thank you.”

  We drive back to the city and he tells the driver to drop us off at Rockefeller
Plaza. I’m a little curious, but don’t say so. When we arrive, we get out and the huge Christmas tree is still there.

  “I meant to bring you here earlier, but time got away from me. I love it here,” he says.

  “It’s so awesome.” I crane my neck, up and up. The thing goes on forever. “Someday I want a tree of my own. I haven’t had one in years.”

  “Next year, then. A large tree with lots of decorations. And you can fancy it up any way you like.”

  Taking the collar of his coat, I tug him close so I can give him a quick kiss. Afterward, he tells me to reach into his pocket for some gum. I dig inside and feel something in there. But it’s not gum.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll have to pull it out to see.”

  When I do, I’m holding my mom’s bracelet I sold a while back. I lift it up in front of my eyes in disbelief. “Where did you get this?”

  “The strangest thing happened. I found it on the sidewalk the other day.”

  I smack his arm. “You did not.”

  Tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear, he tells me how he had an investigator looking for the buyer. He was able to track him through the website I sold it through. The man was pretty decent about it and negotiated a good price for him to buy it back.

  I hug the piece of jewelry to my chest. “I don’t believe you did this.”

  “I wanted you to have it. It holds sentimental value for you.” And dang it, those silly tears start leaking from my stupid eyes.

  His chest is the most convenient place to bury my face, so that’s what I do. I talk gibberish until I stop crying, and then thank him profusely. “I promise to give you blow jobs forever for this.”

  “I’d rather fuck you, but blow jobs are good too.” He laughs.

  “How did I ever think you were an asshole?”

  “Beats the hell out of me.”

  I look up into a face full of innocence. Then he gets that devilish look in his eye and I can’t help but laugh at the big lug.

  “Come on,” he says.

  “Where to?”

  He doesn’t answer, but ushers me into a cab and off we go. It takes us all the way down to Central Park where we get into a horse and carriage for a turn about the park.

  “Aren’t you the romantic?”

  “I’ve got game, baby. But more importantly, I’ve got a woman.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “So, if you could take the ideal vacation, where would it be?” He wants to know.

  “Oh, I don’t know. The wine country in France?”

  “Okay. Done. Let’s go.”

  I look at him like he’s insane. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Like what?”

  “I have to start a new job tomorrow.”

  He waves his hand. “You’re forgetting something. I own the company. You can take the time off.”

  “I won’t be one of those employees.”

  He’s so quiet, I think I’ve pissed him off for a second. Then he takes my hand and pulls it to his heart.

  “Vivi, I love you. Beyond anything I ever imagined. Plain and simple. And I’m not a simple guy. In fact, I’m pretty fucking complex at times. But you manage to make life easy for me. Perspective, you know? What I’m hoping is that you’ll be my perspective for life. Will you marry me?”

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring. “I had this designed weeks ago. I’ve carried it around with me for the last week. Almost asked you on Christmas night. If you don’t like it, we’ll get you something else. The only thing that’s important to me is your happiness.”

  I can’t breathe.

  Is it too soon?

  I know I love him more than anything.

  I think back to the time I wasted before and …

  I blurt out, “Yes, I’ll marry you. I don’t care about the ring. It’s you I want.”

  “But you haven’t even looked at it.”

  When I do, I gasp. It’s gorgeous. A large oval diamond, set in a flower, sort of like the necklace he gave me, but on a much simpler scale. In fact, you have to look closely to see that it actually is a flower. The petals are tiny yet they surround the diamond gracefully, creating an elegant setting. It almost looks like the diamond is blooming out of them.

  “This is so beautiful, Prescott.”

  “I’m not sure if you remember, but I told you once you remind me so much of flowers—their soft petals, their perfect scents, yet strong enough to weather any storm. So I wanted you to have something to help you recall that whenever you looked at the ring.”

  “It’s perfect. I love it.”

  He slips it on my finger and it fits.

  “How did you know my size?”

  “It was a shot in the dark of a guess.”

  I hold my hand out so we both can see.

  Prescott takes it in his and tells me it’s exactly the way he imagined it would look. Then he asks, “So when?”

  “I don’t have a date in mind. Do you?”

  “I would like summer. And would you like to do it in Grand’s gardens?”

  “The question is would she?”

  He laughs. “Are you kidding? She’d be in her element, showing both you and her flowers off.”

  “I guess we need to ask then.”

  A contrite expression flashes over him. “I kind of already did.”

  I laugh. “What do you mean by kind of?”

  He rubs his chin and fesses up. “Okay. I full-out asked. I had to tell someone.”

  When we get home, they’re the first ones we call. And Sara couldn’t be more excited. Samuel is too, but Prescott is right. Sara is ready to parade me around in her gorgeous flower gardens.

  “It has to be June or July. Around six or six-thirty. After the heat of the day. It’ll be lovely,” she says.

  “Indeed it will,” I agree.

  Next we call Eric and he’s so excited for us, but when I ask him to be my bridesmaid, you’d think I just handed him a million dollars.

  “Oh my God. Yes, yes, yes. Wait! Does this mean I have to throw your bachelorette party?”

  “Nah, I’m not having one of those. We’ll just party at The Meeting Place.”

  “Okay, I’m all in. Wait. But I’m not wearing a dress.”

  “Why not?”

  When there’s no response, I’m afraid he hung up on me, so I call out his name.

  “I’m here.”

  “Eric, I was only kidding.”

  “Yeah, I knew that.”

  He didn’t. I gave him a small heart attack. Prescott is holding back a laugh and I’m having a tough time holding mine in.

  “Viv, so I’m your man of honor?” Eric asks.

  “Yep, you are.”

  Then we call Prescott’s friends. We have them on speakerphone and Special yells out, “I knew it! I could tell something was up with you.”

  Prescott asks, “Me? How?”

  “You were practically drooling over Vivi and wouldn’t let her out of your sight. That’s how.”

  “Yeah, dude, you were like her guard dog or something.”

  That makes me lift up and pay more attention to him.

  “Really? He acts that way around me?” I ask.

  “Good Lord, you’d better start paying attention more,” Special answers.

  We tell them the timeframe and they’re super excited. Our final call is to Harrison.

  “No surprise with the way you two were acting. You may as well just get it over with and elope.”

  “Nope. We’re getting married in Grand’s gardens this summer. And tell your parents because they’ll be invited,” Prescott says.

  “Cool. I’ll pass it along. And hey. Congrats, you two. I’m extremely happy for both of you. You guys are the perfect couple.”

  We thank him and hang up.

  “That was fun.”

  “Yeah. But not as fun as this.”

  He pulls me to my feet and I have an idea of what he has in mind. I sto
p him and say, “I have to tell you, I can’t wait until I’m Mrs. Beckham.”

  “I can’t wait either.”

  He drags me into the bedroom, and his mouth crashes onto mine. At the same time, his hands part the opening of my shirt and tear it wide, popping every single button off. I gasp and he swallows it in his mouth as he yanks off my pants. Then he hoists me up and slams me against the nearest wall as he fumbles with his zipper.

  “Can’t wait. Sorry.” His mouth devours mine again while his dick plunges into me. My fingers sink into his shoulder muscles as my heels find purchase on his ass. I meet his thrusts with my hips, using the wall as leverage, and look down to see his hard cock sliding in and out. It’s hot, delicious, and sends more heat shooting through my veins.

  Both of his hands are under my ass, but he moves one and pinches my nipple, playing with it. Then he crosses over to the other. Next he massages my clit and that’s it for me. I’m off and running on the path to orgasmville. When I cry mine out, he follows, grinding his out against me. Then he drops his head into the crook of my neck, breathing hard.

  “Love wall fucking you, Little Wolf. You sure know how to bring my dick to its knees in a hurry.”

  “Same for me.”

  He chuckles into my neck. “Didn’t know you had a dick.”

  I pinch his nipple. “You know what I mean.”

  “Mmm. Yeah. I do know and love that I know. But know what else I love?”

  “What?”

  “Now no one ever gets to know what I know, because you’re all mine and only mine. Forever.”

  Chapter 37

  Prescott—Six Months Later

  Large tents dot the vast grounds of my grandparents’ estate. Grand’s flowers are unreal this year. She had time to plan ahead for the wedding and planted varieties she’d never had before, expanding her ever-growing list of perennials and annuals. I’d never seen her so excited about the garden—and that was saying something. The caterers run all over the place, finalizing everything. The event planners are doing the same thing, coordinating with everyone.

  Beneath one tent is a ten-piece band so we can dance the night away, along with a scattering of tables and a bar. The other tents will have food, tables, and more bars, including strawberries and our wedding cake. Vivi didn’t want to go with the cupcake idea one of the planners suggested. She loves wedding cake, so we got the best of the best. We tasted them until we were blue in the face. The strawberries were my only requirement. I had to have them because they remind me of her luscious lips.