Victoria's Got a Secret

by HelenKay Dimon

  Twenty-Five

  When opportunity knocks, kick the door down.

  —Grandma Gladys, The Duchess

  SHE’D BEEN ON A LEAVE OF ABSENCE FOR MORE THAN a year when the call came from Walt. The show had taken a different direction while she was gone, and it wasn’t working. Walt and the new guys leading the show wanted to bring the broadcast back to its original purpose. Not comedy or something bawdy. Simply pretty women delivering the news as they lost their clothes.

  With months of thinking and hibernating behind her, she reluctantly left the safety of Lake Orr and headed back to the city. This wasn’t just about an interview. She needed to come back to life. The cottage gave her peace, but it wasn’t the real world. She didn’t need to hide. Not anymore.

  Heather offered the extra bedroom in her apartment, and Jennifer didn’t refuse. Will and Andrea would be close by. So would Tamare. Her safety net would be secure.

  She walked into the Naked News offices in her favorite black pants and red blouse. The color showed off her skin tone, but the outfit didn’t hide the extra weight. Rather than try to ignore it, she decided to take responsibility for it. With the stress gone and the black cloud that hovered over her life dissipated, it would come off.

  As she pushed open the glass doors to the conference room, she expected conflicting emotions. She’d left because she had to get out. The terms were good, and Walt understood, but she had worried all the old feelings of desperation would come rushing back on her.

  They didn’t. It was clear the negative thoughts she had of the place stemmed from Preston. With him gone, the burden lifted. Entering now, she remembered only the fun.

  She slid into the seat the new secretary pointed for her. Across from her, Walt gave her a warm smile. The other guys didn’t look as pleased. They were image consultants of some sort. They didn’t work at Naked News. They supposedly knew business and were there to help get it right.

  The board hired them for a short-term contract. Walt seemed to be tolerating them but just barely. She thought of them as Blondie and Big Shoulders and didn’t like them on sight.

  “You’ve been away for a long time,” Blondie, the young one in the gray suit, stated.

  “A year.”

  He glanced up and down her torso. “You look different from your tapes.”

  She’d gotten to a point in her life where verbal games annoyed her. “You mean heavier.”

  “Honestly? Yes.”

  Walt frowned. “Is that necessary?”

  Big Shoulders nodded. “It’s a concern if she wants to work here again.”

  In that second she wasn’t sure she did. “Not to state the obvious, but you called me. I didn’t come begging for work.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  Jennifer took a long look at Big Shoulders. He was older, with less hair and shoulders that nearly swallowed his head. He struck Jennifer as the type of guy who thought nothing of assessing a woman’s looks despite how wanting his own might be.

  “I didn’t ask to come back.” She had no intention of returning until she’d heard Walt’s voice on the phone asking for her to at least consider it. They’d noted her status as being on temporary leave, but in her head it had always been a final end.

  “I understand you need work,” Blondie said. “We can help you with that.”

  The guy acted like he was doing her a favor. Like she’d been spending her days sitting by the phone, just hoping Naked News would call so she could beg for a second chance.

  Wrong.

  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” She said the words slow, making sure she had their joint attention.

  “How so?” Big Shoulders asked in a voice so like Preston’s that Jennifer winced when she heard it.

  “Walt called me and asked for my help.”

  Walt nodded. “True.”

  “He mentioned a slide in the ratings and thought I might be able to help you. Not the other way around.”

  Blondie shrugged. “We have other anchors.”

  Jennifer weighed her options. Sitting there, taking this and hanging around as if she needed them in order to survive might be the one avenue they wanted her to take, but she wasn’t interested. She’d been down that road before and wasn’t ready to trade one problem with another.

  Big Shoulders clicked the end of his pen about fifty times. Once everyone stared at him, he spoke. “Before we can discuss terms, we need to talk about the weight.”

  Walt winced at the harsh comment.

  Jennifer knew the feeling. Yes, the extra pounds magnified on television. Not exactly a secret. But there had to be a better way to deliver the message. A little tact would be nice.

  “I’ve been on leave. The weight will come off now that I’m back here.” She knew that was the case. She’d never been a sedentary person. She enjoyed the outside and exercise. Now that her mind had healed her body could, too.

  Big Shoulders switched to tapping his pen against his front teeth. Another annoying habit as far as Jennifer was concerned. “Until we see some weight loss we could put you on an exercise program and offer discounted pay.”

  They could kiss her butt.

  She stood up. “Gentlemen, while I appreciate you thinking of me, I’m going to pass.”

  Blondie glanced at Walt and then rushed to fill the conversation void. “I don’t think you understand. This is a perfect opportunity for you to re-enter the public eye.”

  “It will take some sacrifices from you,” said the other one.

  These two were clueless. “I’ve sacrificed. And, believe me, I know what this position entails. I invented it.”

  Blondie’s smarmy face went white. “What are you saying?”

  “No thanks.”

  Walt showed up at her apartment two days later. When he called and asked if he could stop by, she didn’t hesitate. Saying no to the deal had been the right answer. The guys at that table wanted another version of Preston’s Victoria, the type they could push around. She wouldn’t go back on those terms.

  She had other opportunities. She’d been working since high school, even through college. Finding employment had never been an issue. She had experience and gave a good interview.

  She’d rebuilt and reinvested before and would do it again.

  Making the decision had given her a sense of peace. She didn’t realize how much she missed the calm certainty of life until she lost it and found it again.

  She opened the door on the first knock. “That meeting was fun.”

  Walt didn’t say a word, he just stepped inside and hugged her.

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Wasn’t your fault.” Jennifer knew that. Walt had never been anything but fair with her.

  “They’re the consulting guys. They don’t understand how to run the show. I doubt they even know anything about the show or the demographics.”

  “Not the most tactful bunch ever.” She still wanted to poke both of their eyes out.

  “They’re supposed to be so smart.”

  A chuckle burst out of her. “They hid that well.”

  When Walt joined her in laughter she knew everything was fine between them. With her arm in his, she lead him to the kitchen and mothered him with a hot cup of coffee and a muffin. Baking was one of her weaknesses now, and she was determined to share her skills.

  Walt glanced around. “Where’s Preston?”

  “Long gone.”

  “Good.”

  “You weren’t a fan?”

  “Of you? Always.” Walt took a sip of coffee. “Of how he treated you? No.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She let her heart do it for her. “Thank you.”

  Walt nodded. “I thought we could try this negotiating thing again.”

  “Without the condescending crap.”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  The last of her anxiety eased. “How is your wife?”

  He smiled. “I see what you’re doing.”

  �
��What?”

  “Uh-huh.” He took a folded piece of paper out of his inner jacket pocket. “I won’t be sidetracked. We’ll get to the personal stuff once we finish up the business.”

  She admired his persistence. “I already said no.”

  “You’re a smart businesswoman. Not one to turn down a good opportunity when it lands on your lap.”

  “Flattery will get you . . .” She reached for the basket in the middle of the table. “Another muffin.”

  “I’d rather have your signature.” He slid the paper across the table to her. “Here’s the offer.”

  She was almost afraid to look down. Turning down two strangers had been easy. Saying no to Walt would be harder. But she’d do it if she had to. For the first time, she knew in her heart Naked News needed her more than she needed it.

  She peeked at the bottom line. A raise and a list of benefits she’d tried to negotiate in the past.

  Nice.

  She wanted to squeal, but she settled for ribbing him a bit. “What about the lower pay until the weight comes off?”

  He took a big bite of muffin. “These are good.” Then another.

  “And I know you. You’ll lose the weight when you’re ready.”

  Jennifer couldn’t help but smile. Now that’s how a tactful guy did it. “I will.”

  “Then as far as I’m concerned you deserve the salary increase now.”

  She broke off a piece of muffin. “You have a pen?”

  “Sign so we can talk about family stuff.”

  Twenty-Six

  A man is coming for you.

  —Tarot reading

  SIX WEEKS LATER, JENNIFER HAD LOST THE WEIGHT. A little exercise and a good metabolism accounted for the big change in such a short period of time. She didn’t starve herself like she had in the Preston years. Never again.

  She truly believed being happy and satisfied and not looking to food for a release helped. She also believed women should be happy with their bodies, and if that meant her weight settled out higher than before, she would have been fine with that.

  Being pounded with work likely played a role too. As part of her new deal, she took over the public relations job at the network. She liked the addition of something new. It meant less time on-air but more time in administration. The shift in balance suited her.

  It was also the reason she sat at her home office on a Sunday, looking through a mass of e-mails forwarded by Walt. He was the big boss. He sent PR-related stuff to her to handle. Getting used to the new position meant learning everything in steps. She checked all e-mails in case one was the one she had to handle immediately.

  She clicked through a list and saw one Walt just forwarded. He tended to save Sundays for family, so she figured this one meant something.

  She opened it and took a brief glance at something that looked like fan mail. Those pieces rarely came directly to her. She got enough to bury herself in it. The avalanche went to customer service, who waded through it and separated the general fan mail from personal stuff and the crazy ones.

  The idea that Walt took the time to forward it stunned her. He was a busy man. And why to her?

  She breezed through the header and stopped. The song she’d been singing along to on the radio stuck on an endless loop in her head. She actually touched her fingertips against the screen as if she could feel the words and hold them forever.

  Hello Victoria, I don’t know if you remember me, it’s Paul Gobits from Sarnia. Congratulations on your exciting job. It’s been years and it would be nice to catch up. I am playing at the El Macombo in Toronto on Tuesday March 24th, it would be great if you could stop by and say hello.

  Paul. Just seeing his name sent blood spinning through her veins. She wanted to scream with joy and throw her fists in the air.

  He’d found her. Paul being Paul, he didn’t ask dumb questions or judge. His e-mail was filled with an open charm and a simple question. She admired the directness of it. If she’d tried to get in touch with him first, something she thought about on a daily basis, she would have taken weeks composing and revising until it was perfect.

  She reached over and shut off the radio. “Heather!”

  Jennifer didn’t wait for her sister to hit the room to start typing a reply. There was no need to hesitate. She was at the point in her life where seeing Paul made her nervous and giddy, not fearful or worried.

  Heather peeked around the corner. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Paul e-mailed me.”

  “Paul?”

  “Paul.”

  “Get out.” She hovered over Jennifer’s shoulder and read the original and then the finished lines of the draft reply. “You’re going, right?”

  “We are.” She’d taken huge steps forward, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get hit with panic now and then.

  “What are you doing right now?”

  Jennifer’s fingers flew across the keys. Typing 130 words per minute came in handy sometimes. “Saying yes.”

  “Stop a second.”

  “No way.”

  “Listen to me.” Heather brushed Jennifer’s hands off the keyboard.

  “What the—”

  “Don’t.”

  Jennifer couldn’t believe it. Heather knew the truth. Knew everything about Paul and the history. “Why?”

  “Just show up.”

  Whatever Jennifer was about to write left her head. “Really?”

  “You look amazing. Your life is together. From everything I’ve heard, so is his.”

  “You heard about him?”

  Heather waved the question away. “Trust me on this. Your big sister wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

  Jennifer nibbled on her bottom lip. “Really?”

  “You’ve always said your greatest regret was losing him, that your timing was off.” Heather smiled. “This time you can make it happen.”

  “You’re matchmaking.”

  Heather shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe this time it will stick.”

  The location of their first meeting in years impressed the heck out of Jennifer. The club, El Macombo, was a famous live music joint in Toronto. The Rolling Stones and other famous bands had stopped by unannounced for jam sessions. The idea of Paul being there, playing there, filled her with a ferocious pride. The achievement was his, but she gloried in the fact he had gotten there. No one handed him an easy life. If he’d made it here, he’d earned it.

  Dressing for the night was only one in a long line of problems. Hard to know what to wear to see the love of your life for the first time in years. Even harder when the email issued a casual invitation.

  Jennifer didn’t know if Paul wanted to introduce her to his new wife or something else. Every time her mind traveled to the first possibility, her stomach rebelled.

  Then there was the problem of being noticed. Ever since Naked News had been picked up by a local station, it was harder for her to be Jennifer in public. Heather and her boyfriend agreed to tag along for protection and moral support. Jennifer vowed to duck behind them if a drunk fan got out of hand.

  The slim-fitting electric blue shirt and blue jeans were perfect for the bar, at least she hoped so. She hadn’t been in a club or bar in a year. Preston ruined those haunts for her.

  When they walked in, the place was almost empty due to the early hour. The main crowd would pile in to hear the music a few hours from now.

  “Where is he?” Heather asked.

  Jennifer looked around. No band in sight. The only people in the room were the bartender and the sound mixer. Both were busy with their respective jobs.

  “I could ask someone,” she said more to herself than for agreement.

  “It’s your show.”

  Jennifer ignored Heather’s comment and walked over to the sound guy. “Do you know Paul Gobits?”

  The guy didn’t look up. “Sure.”

  Maybe being noticed wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Might mean better service. “Can you clue me in to his current location?”


  This time he glanced up. He must have liked what he saw because a smile broke across his face. A second later, he pointed behind her.

  She turned in time to see Paul come out of the prep room. He walked in and stopped right under a pool of light. The haze circled his head, making him look like an angel. An angel with broad shoulders and the soft hair she remembered so well.

  Her hungry gaze ran over him. The blue jeans and tee hugged his trim frame. Tall and fit without a wedding ring.

  She took it all in during a short flash no longer than a blink. When her stare returned to his face, he was looking at her and smiling.

  Her heart leapt. Took a jump and landed right in her throat. It pounded hard enough to break through her skin. She had no idea how she would talk. She wanted to throw her body at him, wrap her arms and legs around him and never let him go.

  He moved before she did. One second he was standing there like a figure out of her dreams, and the next he took two steps and landed in front of her.

  He put out his hand and then held onto hers as he beamed that sexy smile in her direction. “If it isn’t Jennifer Hopkins.”

  “Paul Gobits.”

  He dropped her hand but didn’t move back. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

  Little did he know she almost ran the whole way there. Only Heather’s insistence stopped that little escapade. “Why?”

  “I expected you to send a representative to make sure I wasn’t some kind of wacko.”

  She couldn’t stop smiling. Her cheeks actually hurt from the force of it. “Are you?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Not usually.”

  That quickly, she felt at ease. All those worries about timing and him being with someone else fell by the wayside. Comfort came with the welcoming warmth in his eyes.

  “You do know you’re famous, right?” he asked.

  She never thought of it in those terms. “I’m still Jennifer Hopkins from Sarnia.”

  “You always will be to me.”

  It never failed. He said the right thing at the right time and sent her stomach tumbling. “Do you have time to sit down and talk?”