by Pamela Clare
“I’m going to be on one side of you and Sasha’s going to be on the other. We’ll coach you the entire way up, okay?”
“Okay.” She tried not to sound afraid.
“Reach up for those two handholds, and lift your right foot onto that jug.”
Vic did what Eric told her to do, her heart thrumming. She was a whole six inches off the floor now. “What next?”
His hand pressed against her lower back, pushing her hips toward the wall. “Keep your pelvis tucked in. You’ll create a lot more work for yourself if your center of gravity is hanging out in space.”
“Try to use your legs as much as possible,” Sasha told her. “Women’s legs are as strong as men’s when you take body mass into account. It’s our upper bodies that tend to be weaker. Let your legs do the work.”
Vic did what they told her to do, the two of them following her up the wall, neither of them exerting much effort, while she was sweating and out of breath, her arms and shoulders soon exhausted.
“Let’s just hang out here and rest for a minute,” Eric said.
“Shake it out. Like this.” Sasha let go with one hand, turned that shoulder away from the wall and shook her arm out, then did the same with the other side.
Vic tried to do what Sasha had done, but dizziness rushed over her when she saw how high she was. She grabbed onto the holds again, pressing her body against the rock wall, her eyes squeezed shut.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of heights,” Eric said.
“Neither did I!”
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.” Eric’s calm voice cut through some of her panic.
“You can do this!” Lexi shouted. “You’re doing better than I did my first time.”
Vic found that hard to believe.
As usual, Sasha was nothing but sunshine. “Don’t look down if it scares you. Your height on the wall doesn’t mean anything. You could be five feet up or five hundred feet up, because even if you fall, all you’re going to do is swing.”
Vic looked over just in time to see Sasha let go. Her stomach dropped, but Sasha simply sat there in her harness, swinging in mid-air.
Sasha shrugged. “See? No problem.”
Vic nodded, still trying to recover from her rush of vertigo.
Pull yourself together.
Eric and Sasha knew what they were doing. Lexi wouldn’t let her fall. No one would let her get hurt.
She drew a breath. “Okay. I’m fine. Keep going.”
She looked up, reached for the next hold and the next, doing her best to let her fear go, Eric and Sasha coaching her each step of the way.
“That’s a ledge hold. Curl your fingers like this.” Eric held out his hand to show her how to position her hand. “Perfect.”
She was so focused on her movements and on the sound of Eric and Sasha’s voices that she didn’t realize how close she was to the top until her fingers hooked onto that last hold. She drew herself up on a rush of adrenaline to the sound of cheers and shouts. “Oh, my God! I did it!”
Eric chuckled. “You sure as hell did.”
She let go, swung into his arms, and kissed him.
From the floor below, she heard Gabe say, “Who’s getting married again?”
“I can’t even open the door. My arms are noodles.”
Eric opened the door, trying not to laugh as Victoria dragged herself through the front entrance of the inn and over to the elevator.
She pushed the button. “I am not taking the stairs.”
“I’d say you’ve earned a free ride.”
The Team had celebrated Taylor and Lexi’s upcoming wedding and Vic’s successful first day of climbing with dinner and drinks at Knockers. His city girl had climbed to the top of the wall not once but three times, the third time successfully managing a 5.6 route without coaching. Now, she was paying for it.
He’d given her an ibuprofen from the first aid kit in his truck, but it hadn’t yet taken effect. “You should take advantage of that huge tub for a hot soak tonight, maybe pour in some Epsom salts.”
“Mmm. God, that sounds perfect.”
As soon as they entered her suite, she walked to the sofa and flopped onto the cushions. “That’s it. I’m dead.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t die yet.”
“I can’t?”
“We have to finish the video. Tomorrow night is Central City.”
“Oh, yeah.” She sat up, got to her feet, and shuffled over to the table, still looking beautiful. “What kind of music would you like for the soundtrack?”
“Hey, the soundtrack is your idea. Couldn’t we just plug in some of Taylor and Lexi’s favorite songs?” He thought about that for a second. “Scratch that. Taylor likes country.”
No way was he putting a country soundtrack to the only video he’d ever make.
She sat, opened his browser, and went to a site she obviously knew well. “They’ve got lots of stuff here.”
They spent the next half hour sampling musical compositions, narrowing their choices down to two.
“I think this one will be easier to work with. Plus, it’s got that emotional swell there toward the end. We can loop the beginning and put that during that last part of your mother’s interview that always makes me cry.”
“Let’s do it.”
She bought the music, downloaded it, and then started editing it, a process that seemed to take a fair amount of concentration, her brow knitted, her gaze fixed on the screen. Though Eric knew he should be paying attention to what she was doing, perhaps even making suggestions, he couldn’t take his gaze off her face.
Did she have any idea how beautiful she was, how smart, how fun? How could she still be single? What was wrong with those big city men?
He’d watched her take on new challenges every day she’d been here, doing things she’d never done before, things that were completely outside her experience. She’d succeeded every time, surprising herself and earning everyone’s respect.
Then there was the way she cared about people, especially those who were vulnerable. He’d seen her slip Rain another twenty for Bear tonight when she’d thought no one was looking. If she’d been a bitch to Bear, it wouldn’t have mattered to Eric how beautiful she was. He wouldn’t have been able to stand her.
So, yeah, it was safe to say that his attempt to put distance between the two of them was failing big time. He was aware of this—so aware, in fact, that he’d stopped by the county clinic to get tested for STIs and bought a fresh box of condoms. There were two in the aluminum carrying case in his wallet—and ten more in his first aid kit. Not that he was planning anything, but if events headed in that direction again, he didn’t want to be left holding his dick in his hand.
“Okay, I think this will—”
Over on the coffee table, her cell phone buzzed, making her jump, irritation chasing away the fear that shot across her features.
She got to her feet.
Eric was really starting to hate her boss. “Ignore it.”
“I can’t.” She retrieved her phone, checked the message. “The guy who’s supposed to be covering for me is in over his head, and Abigail told me she’d give the project to someone else if I couldn’t multi-task a little while on vacation. Those were her words exactly.”
Fuck that.
“You didn’t ask me, I know, but life is too short to put up with that bullshit. Unless you love what you’re doing—and I know you don’t—you need to quit and find a job you enjoy and a boss who respects you.”
She tapped out a quick reply, then walked back to the table, cell phone in hand. “That’s a nice thought, but what would I do?”
He drew her into his lap. “What do you love?”
She seemed flustered, either because of his question or because he was holding her. “Well ... um … I don’t know. I guess ... I really love to cook, and I’m good at it, too. But I don’t want to start over and go to culinary school. Owning a restaurant is a lot of hard work.�
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Her scent washed over him, female and sweet, making him wish they could forget the video and get naked. Then again, she was leaving in four days, going back to the big city and her shitty job. What was he thinking? “Work doesn’t feel like work if you love what you’re doing.”
“Does your job never feel like work?”
“Sometimes it does. I hate paperwork. There are days when it feels like I’m managing an adult daycare center and drowning in bullshit, but those days are rare. Most of the time, I feel incredibly grateful to make my living the way I do. As my mother says, ‘You’ve got to choose the life you want to live, or something will choose you.’”
“Yeah, well, I thought I’d chosen.” She gave a little laugh. “I got exactly what I wanted, and it wasn’t what I wanted at all. The joke’s on me, I guess.”
“You can change your mind, you know. That’s the cool thing about still being alive. There’s time to change everything.”
“No, not everything.” She got to her feet, sat in her chair, and went back to work.
Vic put the finishing touches on the video, thanking the long list of people who’d given interviews, her mind far from the work her fingers were doing.
She should tell him. No, it wasn’t that she was morally obligated to tell Eric. Some part of her wanted to tell him. After the closeness they’d had last night, a kind of intimacy that hadn’t had anything to do with sex, she wanted him to understand, wanted him to care.
But, God, what if he reacted the way her dad and brother had? They’d blamed her for the whole thing. Her brother had even called her an idiot—a fucking idiot, actually. She hadn’t talked to him since.
Uncertainty niggled at her, weakening her concentration.
“You spelled my last name wrong.” Eric pointed to the computer screen. “It’s got an ‘e’ on the end.”
“Oh, sorry.” She fixed the mistake. “What do you think?”
Eric leaned in and read aloud. “‘With love to Lexi and Austin on your wedding day, from Hawke and Victoria.’ You don’t think that’s too corny?”
“It’s a wedding. It’s supposed to be a little corny. Besides, you love Austin. I know you do. And I love Lexi. So it’s not corny. It’s the truth.”
“When you put it like that …”
“Do you want to watch it through one last time?”
He rubbed his eyes. “Please, God, no.”
She laughed. “How are you going to show this at the reception?”
“Belcourt is bringing a laser projector and a screen. He’s going to handle setting up at the reception.” A worried frown settled on Eric’s face. “You really think they’re going to like it?”
“They’re going to love it. I know they will. It was an incredibly thoughtful idea. You did a wonderful thing.”
“I didn’t do it alone.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch burning her cheek. It was the second time he’d done that since she’d been here. It was a simple gesture, but it felt caring and intimate. She liked it.
Tell him.
“Eric, I ...” Her pulse spiked. “I’m not going to Central City. I’m just going to stay here and relax tomorrow night.”
She got to her feet and went to refill her water glass, afraid those blue eyes of his would see through her.
“Does this have anything to do with those bastards in Buena Vista?”
“Yes.” She turned on the faucet, let the water run, forgetting the glass in her hand. “I know they won’t be there, but ...”
Just tell him.
He came up behind her, rested his big hands on her shoulders. “You know I would never let anyone hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.” She turned off the water, set the glass down, not thirsty anyway. “It’s not what you think.”
Eric’s voice was soft, reassuring. “I know someone hurt you. I don’t know what he did, but I can tell it’s still with you.”
How could he tell that? How could he know?
She turned, almost in his arms, then pushed past him, walking to the sofa and sinking into the cushions. “God, I can’t even …”
He came to sit beside her, angling his body so that he faced her, his arm stretching across the back of the sofa behind her. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me, but if you think telling me will help you, I’m here.”
What did it matter anyway? She was leaving on Sunday.
She steeled herself, drew a breath. “I met Stewart in a night club just before Halloween. I was there celebrating with a coworker who’d just gotten a promotion. Some guy started hitting on me and wouldn’t back off. Stewart came over and dragged the guy to the security desk. They threw the jerk out. I thought Stewart was a hero.
“I saw him again a couple of weeks later at a work mixer. We started talking. I thanked him for standing up to that idiot. He asked me out. He was good-looking and funny, and he’d protected me at the night club. So I said yes.”
She fought to control her emotions, not wanting Eric to see her fall apart, which she did every time she talked about this. She was surprised she wasn’t already in tears. Perhaps telling his mother just a few days ago was making it easier to tell him. “Our first few dates were incredibly romantic. He said all the right things, did all the right things. On our third date, we ended up at his house. The sex was really disappointing, but I figured it was just me. I’ve never had it as easy as Lexi.”
“As easy with what?” He looked confused.
God, was he going to make her spell it out? “You know … climaxing.”
One dark eyebrow arched, disbelief on his face. “Really?”
Heat flooded her cheeks when she realized what he must be remembering. “Well, with one exception, I guess.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take you off on a tangent. So you had a few dates with this guy, had sex with him, and it wasn’t fireworks.”
Now she’d come to the hard part, the part that still hurt.
“We’d been together for a few weeks when I came home from work to find him in my bed with a tall blond woman. I hadn’t given him a key, but I was so shocked by seeing him having sex with her in my bed that it didn’t occur to me he shouldn’t even be there. The two of them didn’t stop. They kept going and laughed when they saw me.”
“How did the bastard get in?”
“The police say he’d duplicated my key while I was sleeping.”
But that wasn’t the worst thing he done—far from it.
Eric fought to keep his temper in check. Victoria didn’t need his anger. What she needed was to be heard and understood. “What a son of a bitch!”
Okay, so he’d lost that battle already.
“He and his lover finished and walked out of my bedroom. The woman said, ‘Oh, look at her face! She thought the two of you had something real.’ She called me a stupid bitch and told me I’d never meant anything to Stewart.”
“Stewart turned on my television, and on the screen ...” Her words faded into silence, tears filling her eyes.
“It’s okay.” Eric wanted to hold her, but he wasn’t sure how she’d feel about that. “You’re safe here with me.”
She found her voice again, seeming to fight for every word. “He’d made a video … of the two of us having sex. He’d made it without my knowledge or consent. It showed … everything.”
“Jesus!” That was not what Eric had been expecting her to say.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “He told me the video was already online along with some photos and my contact information advertising my services as a call girl. If I wanted him to take it down, I needed to give him fifty thousand dollars. He told me that if I called the police and got him arrested, the tape and all my information would automatically go live on other sites around the world.”
And it all made sense—what that guy had said to her in Buena Vista, the conversation Eric had overheard when she was talking with his mother, how she’d responded when he’d told her she was be
autiful.
A lot of good it’s ever done me.
Son of a bitch!
Eric had heard of men doing things like this—putting up revenge porn to get back at women who’d divorced or broken up with them. He was glad he already knew that this story ended with Stewart’s ass sitting in prison. Otherwise, he’d be making plans to hunt the bastard down.
He did his best to keep the anger out of his voice. “Did you call the police?”
She shook her head, regret written on every feature of her face. “I panicked. I wasn’t thinking straight. My phone started ringing almost right away. I got text messages and emails from men who said repulsive things. I was terrified that one of them would show up at the office or my front door. I was afraid my father or my boss would find out. So I promised Stewart I’d get him the money the next day.”
She cast him a furtive glance, as if afraid to look into his eyes. “You probably think I’m an idiot, don’t you?”
The self-doubt in her eyes put an ache in his chest.
“That wasn’t your best move, but you’re not an idiot. Nothing prepares a person for a situation like that.”
“I felt so … violated. He lied to me. Every minute I was with him was a lie. Every kiss, every word he said—all lies. He used me—for sex, for money—and I fell for it. How could I have been so stupid?”
“Hey, now.” Eric gave her hand another squeeze, wanting so badly to hold her. “You didn’t let him do any of that. He’s a predator. He played into your hopes and expectations. That’s what criminals like him do. You couldn’t have known that.”
She sniffed, shrugged. “There were little signs. His attitude toward me went from hot to cold for no reason. He was vague about his job. The way he positioned himself during sex—he had to stay out of the way of the camera, didn’t he?”
The image that flashed into Eric’s head sickened him.
Christ.
Victoria reached for a tissue, wiped her eyes. “The next day, I called in sick, then changed my email address, my phone numbers, and the locks on my doors. I went to the bank and took the money out of my trust fund. Stewart told me to meet him at the Wicker Park fountain and reminded me that if I had him arrested, more stuff would go up online. He said a friend of his would be there to take the money from me. When I asked him how I’d recognize his friend, he just laughed and said the guy would recognize me. I knew then that he’d shown the tape and the images to his friends. But it was worse than that.
