On The Dotted Line

by Kim Carmichael

  “Nice to meet you.” Party. Yes, the party. His mother continued to talk about it every time Willow saw her. Mrs. Van Ayers declared she had to do something to cover up her son’s abrupt elopement, and somewhere she vaguely remembered nodding when dresses were mentioned. It may have been around the time she was watching Randolph do whatever Randolph did, which seemed like always. Unsure if parties and dresses were included in her contract, and not wanting to check, she went with the flow.

  “And of course, we need something for little Jebby.” Lillian picked up the bag.

  Jeb let out a bark and trotted out from the back.

  “Oh my God!’ Teresa squealed.

  “Isn’t he precious?” Lillian beamed, reached into her bag and pulled out a collar. A bejeweled collar. “May I, Willow?”

  Precious? When did this take place? The brand logo dangling from the collar told her the little bauble cost more than her monthly rent.

  “Now, we don’t put our paws up on Lulu.” Lillian bent down and wagged her finger at Jeb.

  Lulu? Willow braced herself on the counter, trying to let the situation unfold rather than take control. Maybe if she let the universe take over, everything would even itself out.

  Everyone watched while Jeb sat as Lillian adorned him with the collar.

  “When you said you needed something for a dog, I had my doubts, but he owns it.” Sam knelt down.

  Jeb lifted his head, as if showing off his new look.

  Everyone clapped.

  Everyone but Nan, the woman who taught her to accept it if someone decided to try to make amends.

  “This store is incredible. I can already feel the good vibes.” Lillian seemed to float around the small shop, flitting from one thing to another. She stopped in front of the skin care, lifted a bottle of lotion and smiled at it. “You make this?”

  “Yes.” Willow joined her. Maybe they found a bit of a common ground. She took the tester bottle and held it out to Lillian. “All natural ingredients.”

  Lillian sniffed the bottle. “Oh it’s yummy.” She poured some on her hand and offered it to the other woman.

  They both rubbed the lotion into their arms.

  “This would be perfect as favors for my Beverly Hills Women of Action luncheon. I’ll take two hundred. I need them by next Friday and I don’t want the family discount.” Lillian reached in her purse and handed her a black credit card before continuing her self-guided tour of the store. “Make sure you attach your business card to each bottle. Everyone will just die when they find out my daughter-in-law creates lotion, just die.”

  Two hundred? Was she serious? She needed to call Randolph, she never made two hundred of anything before. Also she didn’t have business cards. At her thought she ground her teeth together. Randolph couldn’t be the first person she thought to talk to about lotion or cards.

  “Hello, Nanette.” Lillian stopped at the candles and incense on the floor. “What’s all this?”

  “I am creating an altar.”

  “For what?” Lillian asked in a singsong voice.

  “Randolph and Willow. They made love on this very spot and I wanted to commemorate the moment.” Nan crossed her arms.

  Willow took a deep breath, vanilla and roses filling her sinuses. Nan decided to use the location where her passion got the best of her to prove her point. She wondered at what point she should return the credit card and hide.

  “Well, at this stage of their marriage there would be something wrong if they didn’t make love everywhere they could.” She patted Nan’s shoulder. “One time Van and I made love at the ninth hole at the country club. To this day he says he always gets a birdie there.”

  Everyone laughed and Lillian returned to her. “I thought Willow would look gorgeous in that champagne colored dress you showed at my charity fashion show. Who else has worn it?” She took her phone out of her handbag, slid her fingers over the screen and handed Willow her phone.

  Willow held back a gasp at the picture of a long, lanky dress, the kind she would see on an award show on television. Dresses like those didn’t belong on her.

  “It’s only been worn at your show.” Sam tilted back on his heels. “We had a request for it from Dr. Lawrence’s wife.”

  “Oh my. Willow dear, someone is forgetting who helped Sam with that nasty, unfortunate incident with his credit two years ago.” Lillian put her hand to her chest. “I think Van would be very unhappy to not see his brand new daughter-in-law in this dress. It would make such a lovely wedding gift.”

  “The dress is worth over ten thousand dollars.” Teresa stepped forward.

  She didn’t own ten thousand dollars worth of anything let alone clothes.

  “Oh, it is, I have no doubt. Were you using it to barter for the good doctor’s services?” Lillian cupped her hand over her mouth. “Dr. Lawrence is a plastic surgeon.”

  “I am sure Dr. Lawrence and his wife will enjoy seeing the dress at Willow’s party.” Teresa reached into her pocket and took out a tape measure. “On Willow.”

  Willow needed to wonder who the real deal maker was in the family. Damn if she didn’t want the dress. Her life was all off kilter.

  “Let me get some preliminary measurements and then you can come to the shop for a formal fitting.” Teresa approached and wrapped her tape measure around her chest. “Thank God.”

  “For what?” Lillian glanced down at the number.

  “Do you know how many dresses I ruin trying to fit artificially large breasts into my clothes?”

  Sam came over with a paper. “Very nice, Willow.”

  The door to the shop opened. Again the sun streamed in, hitting right in her pupils. She shielded her eyes, but only made out a tall form.

  “Well, this is interesting.” Randolph’s voice rang through. “What going on?”

  Her husband’s cologne wafted over the incense. Earth and expense mixed with the vanilla and roses made her light headed, but her vision cleared. Randolph came over in his suit, his sky blue tie and his curls.

  “Admiring your wife’s natural chest.” Sam made a note on the paper.

  Randolph bent down, lifted his sunglasses and nodded at the number. He then leaned over and gave her a kiss.

  “What are you doing here?” There were too many people in the shop. What used to be calm, turned chaotic.

  “Didn’t you get my text?” He kissed her again. “I said I was picking you up and thought we could go out to dinner.”

  “Randolph!” His mother came over. “I don’t know if you can be here.”

  Teresa moved the tape measure down to her waist.

  “I can say the same to you, mother.”

  “I don’t know if you should see Willow’s dress before the party.” She shooed him away.

  “Why not, he’s seen her undressed on the floor of her shop.” Sam laughed.

  Lillian patted her son. “I am glad you and Willow have a good and active sex life. It’s very important. Your father and I never had an issue in that area, still don’t. It’s very good for the skin.”

  Teresa moved down to her hips.

  “Well, that is information I never needed to hear.” Randolph grabbed Willow’s hand and interlaced their fingers.

  “Maybe there is something about the Van Ayers men.” Sam stood and elbowed him. “Whatever you did netted you some altar.”

  “Mother, isn’t it time you get home?” He bent down and picked up Jeb, allowing her dog to lick his face.

  “Yes, we must get going. We’ll leave and take Nanette home so the two of you can…” She pointed over at the altar and took Jeb. “Well, it’s all set up for you.”

  “Thank you.” Randolph squeezed Willow’s hand.

  Lillian smiled and kissed him and then leaned over and kissed her. “Willow, dear, keep my card and charge what you need for the lotion, you can give it back to me later. Bye.”

  In a scurry of activity, they all gathered their things and left. Nan didn’t even bother with a wave, leaving Willow a bit
breathless with the man she married.

  “So, how are you?” He took both her hands. “Aside from your natural yet magnificent chest?”

  Heat crept into her cheeks. “Your mother bought two hundred bottles of lotion from me for one of her functions.”

  “Good, charge her double.”

  She closed her eyes. “I need business cards.”

  He let go of her hands and took her by the waist. “Give Peter the information. He loves going to the printer.”

  Her plan of not going to him completely failed. It had to be the sex. Since their altar creating extravaganza, the whole no sex thing sort of didn’t exist anymore.

  She opened her eyes to find Randolph staring at her. “How was your day?” Without even thinking she reached up and grazed her fingers across his chin. A scant bit of sexy stubble met her fingertips.

  “I have something for you.” He pulled her closer.

  She prayed for a bit of strength. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her. She wasn’t even sure who opened their mouth first, not that it mattered, their lips, bodies and hands moved in unison, their days together giving them a bit of familiarity she never had with any other man.

  He wrapped his arms around her, leaning her back as if he couldn’t get enough.

  In turn, she snuck her hands underneath his suit jacket taking in his slender yet muscular form hiding beneath his clothes.

  “I knew it!” Like a bomb, Jade boomed into her store with Argyle behind her.

  “I told you.” Argyle saluted them.

  Randolph shot up and away from her, holding his hands out like a shield.

  She gasped and, as if on automatic, hid behind her husband. Her mind didn’t belong to her anymore. She never even heard the bell on the door.

  Randolph cleared his throat. “What is it that you knew?”

  Jade glanced behind her.

  “Go ahead.” Argyle nodded.

  Jade narrowed her eyes and stalked forward. She held a piece of what appeared to jail bars in front of her face. “We are all putting up barriers in one way or another.” She flipped the prop over to reveal what looked like a white picket fence. “Are they the same? Are they different?”

  “An interesting question my little protégé proposes.” Argyle sauntered forward.

  “Mr. Money, good day.”

  Randolph didn’t respond.

  Willow stared at Randolph’s back, her hand on his back. Her ring on her hand on his back. No, she never took it off today, or yesterday, maybe the day before and these people were all about truth and creativity. “Jade.” She came around Randolph and held out her hand.

  Before she got the chance to utter another word, Randolph grabbed her hand and put both their hands in his pocket.

  “Yes, we are seeing each other. Is that your big reveal?” Randolph put his other hand in his pocket as well.

  “No, I knew it anyway. Argyle told me.” She trotted over, gave them both a hug, and handed her an envelope. “I was practicing my art and wanted to give you the receipt for your rent, you forgot it the other day.”

  “Thank you.” She took the envelope and fought the urge to hand it to Randolph.

  “Speaking of which I got a chance to study the gift of art you received.” Argyle’s gaze traveled over her. “You must be a very special woman to be gifted with such an offering.”

  She let out a little giggle. The man owned every room he walked into. Creative and sure of himself, he possessed a different sort of confidence than Randolph’s more subdued elegance. Of course his tall, commanding frame, picture perfect features, clear golden eyes and flowing black hair didn’t hurt his cause.

  “What did you think of the work?” Argyle tilted his head to Randolph.

  Willow forced herself to have no reaction to the question. How would Randolph address his own art?

  “It fits the store.” Randolph exhaled.

  “Critiqued like a true accumulator of art and a jealous beau.” Argyle bowed. “We must get going. Jade isn’t nearly done with her lesson.”

  “Yes, sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt any foreplay, so I’ll make myself scarce.” Jade smiled and looked between them. “Too bad you didn’t get together a little earlier. I always knew Willow rocked, and she could have saved you a bundle. Come by the shop later!” With the words out, both she and Argyle left, the bell on the door ringing loud and clear.

  Kisses and sex was one thing, but she could never forget why she was here. Even without knowing everything, Jade knew the role of Randolph’s wife, which was why she couldn’t reveal her true status. “Well, at least I managed to save you a bundle.” She returned to the counter to gather her items.

  Randolph joined her. “I thought we would go grab something to eat.”

  “Sure.” She picked up her calendar.

  “How is the planning going for the dinner?” He moved her hair off her shoulder. “I need to make a good impression for this client. They are very big for my company.”

  She shivered at his light touch. “I’ll do my job.” It was a dinner not a wedding or a party, at least the kind his mother threw.

  “Is everything okay? Did my mother upset you? Was it that so-called artist?”

  She shook her head. Of everyone at the moment his mother was her favorite person. Lillian thought they were truly married and in her own way tried to accept her. “Your mom was great. Argyle is eccentric.”

  “Whatever. I said earlier I have something for you.” Randolph reached into his magic suit jacket pocket and handed her a thick envelope.

  She opened the flap and took out a burgundy leather checkbook from the same designer as Jeb’s new collar, a far cry from her cracked blue plastic one. “What’s this?”

  He opened the checkbook to reveal a deposit slip. “I got your account all set up and deposited your monthly allowance. Since you are a Van Ayers, you don’t have to pay any monthly fees.”

  In her whole life she never saw that sum of money in one spot. Her cheeks heated and she dropped the checkbook on the counter.

  “Are you all right?” He put his arm around her.

  The numbers stared her down, his arm weighed her down, and the calendar tied her down. “I’m doing my job.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Willow.” Peter drove into the parking lot behind the restaurant and twisted around to face her. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

  From the backseat, she nodded. “The Vines of Los Angeles.” Except for an occasional treat or sometimes when bartering, Willow rarely frequented restaurants. Instead she chose to eat what she and Nan cooked when they were lucky enough to have a kitchen, or would pick up little items at local farmers markets.

  Since her marriage, Randolph had taken her out several times to quiet restaurants where everyone seemed to know him and all were the kind of places where she could taste the money more than the food. Afraid of embarrassing him and with luck on her side, Randolph was the ultimate gentleman and seemed to get a kick when she asked him to pick something for her, and he always seemed to get it right. What made her blush and swoon only accentuated the way she stood out from his world.

  The way Peter asked his question put a spotlight on her issues about the responsibility Randolph gave her when he presented the calendar. All the paranoia and planning about exactly the right outfit and food seemed silly when his clients were discussing gaining or losing huge sums of money or other life-altering deal. Her gut told her she didn’t belong. She needed to renegotiate her contract, or break it or get thrown in jail for wayward, paid off wives.

  “This doesn’t look like the kind of place where Randolph would eat.” Elizabeth Glick, Peter’s apparent girlfriend, also turned to her. “Aren’t we supposed to be at The Vines of Beverly Hills?”

  Probably. “They didn’t have reservations for tonight, but helped me get a table here.” She inhaled. The people at the restaurant in Beverly Hills explained that their Los Angeles location had the same delicious menu in a trendier, up and co
ming location. It wasn’t as if she asked them to meet at the local drive-thru. These people needed a little lesson on perspective. She did her job, made the reservations, got everyone the address to the restaurant, and put on a dress.

  “Did whatever plebian you spoke to at the Hills location know who you were?” The woman narrowed her eyes.

  Unsure how to answer Elizabeth’s question, she shifted her focus to Peter. “The Vines was on the list of restaurants Randolph’s secretary gave me.” She chewed the inside of her mouth. On the other hand, she didn’t want to mess up any business for her husband.

  “I bet his secretary would know how to get into the one in Beverly Hills.” Elizabeth plopped forward in her seat.

  “Do the Hartfords and Randolph know where we’re meeting?” Peter smiled at her.

  She nodded, but all the questions only amplified her doubts, and magnified what she didn’t know about Randolph’s world. Was there more to what she needed to do than make a few phone calls and don some lipstick? The Vines in Los Angeles, The Vines in Beverly Hills, couldn’t be that different. The two places were only a few miles apart.

  “Well, as long as we all end up in the same place, that’s half the battle.” Peter finished parking the car.

  “I don’t think Randolph will like coming to a place with no valet parking.” Without waiting for anyone, Elizabeth got out of the car.

  Peter shook his head and exited as well.

  Ivy took a moment and with a frown opened her own door. Since Randolph found her in the alley on his birthday, she hadn’t touched a car door. She slid on her coat and watched Peter practically sprint to Elizabeth.

  After Randolph’s secretary called and told her he was running behind and to meet him at the restaurant, she went to call the house driver. When Randolph texted her and told her to entertain his client in case they arrived before him she admitted she panicked. Not knowing who these people were, and not wanting to be their entertainment committee, she called Peter at the last second and invited him. She never gave a second thought to him bringing his girlfriend. It seemed natural they would be in couples.