The Seacroft: a love story (Paines Creek Beach Book 2)

by Lazar, Aaron Paul

  Vivian hurriedly finished vacuuming her little suite, waiting for Uvi to call with the next job on her forever-burgeoning list of tasks. The woman usually kept her hopping most of the day, which suited Viv just fine. She liked staying busy. From contacting repairmen, to organizing the DVD collection, to corresponding with Uvi’s overseas connections, to retyping some of her poetry and communicating with her editor… Vivian’s days were full.

  When you were busy, you couldn’t think about things. Like loss. And big brothers. And stupid aneurisms.

  Uvi had been showering and primping for the past hour, so Vivian knew her own free time was limited. She pressed the button to retract the vacuum cleaner cord and watched it slide into the coil, always amused by the way it swooped back into the machine.

  “I’m pathetic,” she said, rolling the vacuum into a hall closet.

  The text alert came three seconds later. “Please come to my room.”

  Well, at least she said please this time.

  Vivian washed and dried her hands in her bathroom sink, then headed down the hall. She peeked into Uvi’s bedroom. “Yes, Uvi?”

  “Come in, dear.” Uvi sat at her desk in the corner, the morning light playing across her flawless features. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Yes?” Viv perched on the edge of the round, embroidered Queen Anne chair in the corner. Her heart started to hammer. Had she done something wrong? Was Uvi upset with her? Was she about to get fired?

  “As you may have heard, Deidre is no longer with us.”

  Vivian straightened. “Um. No. I hadn’t heard. I wondered when she didn’t—”

  “Well, don’t look so sad.” Uvi peered over the top of her glasses. “It’s not like she died or anything, Vivian.”

  Viv still didn’t know what to make of this woman. Sometimes Uvi could border on unkindness, almost cruelty. And yet, at other times she seemed gracious and caring. Who was she? Which personality was real? “What happened to Deidre, if I might ask?”

  “I fired her.” Uvi locked eyes with her, as if challenging her before she could say a word. “And don’t ask why. I want to move past this.”

  “Okay.” Viv fidgeted on her seat. She blurted out her next words. “Will we hire a replacement?”

  “Of course.” Uvi stretched her long legs out, leaning back in her chair. “Eventually.”

  Viv watched her, envious of the sophistication and magnificence her employer seemed to take for granted. The woman was a goddess. Perfect features, glossy, dark hair. A killer body. Viv would give anything for Uvi’s eyes, her lush lips, her high cheekbones.

  Some people had all the luck. Vivian pictured God smiling down on Uvi, favoring her over all others. The good Lord certainly favored Uvi more than her. Just look at what she’d had to endure. And she was only nineteen years old!

  “I’ll need you and Cody to split the work for now. You’ll both help with cleaning and in the kitchen.” She pursed her lips. “Wait. You can cook, can’t you?”

  Vivian broke into a sweat. “Cook?”

  Uvi raised one eyebrow. “Yes, cook. As in prepare food for meals?”

  “Um. Well. I can do simple things. Spaghetti. Eggs. Salad.”

  A long sigh escaped her employer. “We’ll just have to manage. Perhaps Cody is a wizard in the kitchen.” She looked out the window with a wistful expression. “At least we know he’d improve the ambiance. He’s quite the decorative young man, don’t you think?” Uvi loosed a wicked chuckle and when Vivian didn’t answer, she pressed her. “Don’t you think so?”

  Vivian felt a blush rising up her throat to her cheeks. “Er... ”

  Uvi leaned forward, as if truly interested. “Vivian? Honestly? Don’t you find him ridiculously attractive? I can’t be the only one.”

  She shook her head. “He’s annoying.”

  Uvi smiled. “I’ve seen him teasing you. Does it bother you?”

  “No, it’s not a problem. I can handle it.”

  Suddenly the air seemed to cool around them. Uvi stood and pushed her chair under the desk. “I hope so. Just don’t go handling his goods, if you get my meaning.” She cast a sly look at Vivian and flounced across the room. “Come. I need you to prepare the room for my husband.”

  Vivian jumped up and followed her. Her husband? This was the first time she’d heard mention of the return of the mysterious Mr. Polansky. “Mr. P is coming back from Japan?”

  Uvi waved a hand in the air. “So he says. But I’ve come to the conclusion that if he gets a hot business tip while boarding the plane home, he’ll likely cancel and spend the next three months in Timbuktu, or somewhere equally as dismal.” She turned to give Vivian a frail smile. “I’m afraid that’s his pattern.”

  Vivian followed her into the masculine bedroom adjoining Uvi’s through a double door. The room was filled with heavy mahogany furniture. Dark green wallpaper graced the walls with ducks and pheasants frolicking in artsy designs. A leather couch and chairs faced a fireplace taller than Uvi.

  “It needs a good sweeping and mopping.” She ran her fingers over the dust on the mantle. “Oh, and it goes without saying,” she smiled, “a thorough dust and polish.”

  “Yes, Uvi.” Vivian had corrected herself too many times when she’d responded with “Yes, ma’am.” Now she knew the proper response without having to think about it. “What about the closet? Shall I have some of his favorite jackets or slacks cleaned and pressed?”

  Uvi tilted her head. “Vivian.” She beamed at her. “What a marvelous idea.” Without another word, Uvi pulled six jackets and four pairs of slacks from their hangers, tossing them onto the bed. “Bring these down to Miss Sweeney’s, on Main Street. Okay?” She frowned, then chuckled. “Oh, wait. You don’t have a car, do you?”

  Vivian’s cheeks pinked. All she had was her rusty old bicycle. “No.”

  “Well, hand them over to Cody, and ask him to do it. Okay?”

  “Certainly.” She began to gather them together, but couldn’t manage the whole pile without dropping some on the floor. “I’ll bring these down to the back door, pick up the mop and such, and then carry the rest down in a bit.”

  “Very efficient, dear.” Uvi gave her a sweet smile. “I knew I hired you for a very good reason. You are the perfect little helper.”

  Ugh. A perfect little helper. Viv groaned inside, but forced a small smile. “Thank you.”

  Downstairs in the kitchen, she dropped her load of clothing on the kitchen counter near the door. When was the last time Mr. P wore these? They smelled so old and musty, like clothes from an attic trunk. And why didn’t he ever call Uvi? Viv couldn’t remember one conversation on the phone. Unless, of course, it was the time difference. How far away was Japan in hours, anyway? Maybe they chatted at four o’clock in the morning.

  She gathered cleaning supplies from the cupboard she used to call “Deidre’s” and managed to carry them all upstairs. Within an hour, she was done. The room smelled of oranges now, and every surface shone.

  Well. I guess I make a perfect little maid, too.

  “I should change the sheets,” she said aloud. Ripping off the bedclothes, she piled them into a laundry basket she found in the back of the closet. Way in the back, she found another comforter in its own plastic bag, a king-sized maroon sheet set of high-count percale. When she took them down, a collection of men’s girlie magazines fell to the floor.

  “Gross,” she muttered, re-stacking the pile of disgusting images. Women with leather hats, boots, and no clothes draped themselves on motorcycles, and they seemed to make up the dominant theme of the seedy collection. “Ugh. Wish I hadn’t seen that.”

  She really had no opinion of Mr. P, as all the help called him. All she’d seen was the oil portrait in the drawing room over the mantle which featured Uvi sitting on a red chair and Mr. Jeremiah Polansky standing behind her, one arm resting on his wife’s shoulder. Fine-featured, he wore his steely gray hair slicked back. In the painting, he looked as if he were inviting the artist to bed
with him.

  She laughed and shook herself. “Don’t imagine such nonsense, Vivian.” It must have been the magazines that got her thinking that way. “Just stop it.”

  “Stop what?” Cody said. He leaned in the doorway, watching her with his languid, dark eyes.

  She let loose a little yelp. “Oh, gosh. You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” He smiled a lazy, cowboy smile and she felt herself thawing a little. “I just wanted to go over the list with Mizz P. I couldn’t find the jicama, whatever the hell that is.”

  He’d pronounced the j, instead of saying it with the Spanish accent.

  “Hickumuh,” she said, softly. “It’s a big, round vegetable. Kind of like a rutabaga, but with more of a water chestnut flavor.”

  “Huh? Rutabaga? What the hell is that?”

  She couldn’t help but laugh at the confused look on his face. “It’s like a turnip. Ever heard of those?”

  “Yuk.”

  “Something tells me you might not be much of a cook, Cody.”

  Again, the confused expression. “What?”

  “She wants us to cook for her. Until she hires someone new.”

  He rolled his eyes and flopped back on the freshly made bed. “No way.”

  “Yes. Way. And get off that bed! I just made it.”

  He hopped off while she smoothed the covers.

  “I should’ve bought Ramen noodles and Mac ‘n Cheese today. I know how to make that.”

  “Double yuk,” she said. “That stuff’ll kill you.”

  “It hasn’t so far,” he said, turning in a circle with his arms spread out. “I’m fine.”

  This time she rolled her eyes. “Scat. Get out of here before you get me in trouble.”

  “In trouble?” He grinned wickedly and came closer. “How?”

  Ignoring the pleasant scent of him, she huffed. “Never mind. Just go!”

  He snorted a laugh and circled her. “Okay. Don’t wanna get you in trouble with the old boss lady.”

  She grabbed his arm and whispered fiercely. “For crying out loud, don’t let her hear you call her that.”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m going now. See you later.”

  She leaned down to angrily smooth the comforter, even though it didn’t really need it. “Fine. See you at dinner.”

  Chapter 4

  Cody sat on a kitchen chair peeling onions. Vivian had opened the windows over the sink and turned on the ceiling fan, but his eyes still stung.

  “This is not what I was hired to do,” he said. “I can barely see.”

  Vivian wiped at her own watering eyes. “I know. It’s coming all the way over here.” She added spices to the hamburger she’d just dumped in a big stockpot. “Soon as you’re done chopping, I’ll throw in those onions. Once they cook down, they won’t be so pungent.”

  “Okay.” He finally got both onions diced into little chunks like she’d instructed him, and brought them over on the wooden cutting board. “Here you go.”

  He stood close to her, maneuvering the board over the pot. She smelled nice. Like the beach. Or sweet plums. He laughed, amused at his own thoughts.

  “What?” She eyed him from the side, stirring the pot.

  He stepped over to the sink to rinse the cutting board. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking it’s been forever since I’ve gone for a swim. And here we live not a minute’s walk from the water’s edge.”

  She locked eyes with him, then lowered her gaze. “Strange. I was just thinking that this morning. I miss the beach. But we’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a second to spare. And it’ll only get harder, with Deidre gone.”

  “I know.” He wandered back to her side. “Wanna go sometime?”

  “Go where?” Uvi said from the doorway. She leaned against the doorjamb wearing crisp khaki shorts and a white pullover.

  Cody stared at her for a moment, noting how elegantly she positioned herself, no matter where she was or what she wore. “The beach. We haven’t been in forever.”

  “Well, that’s silly,” Uvi said. “You can walk down to Paines Creek anytime.” She walked closer, patting him on the shoulder. “But you’re right. We don’t take advantage of it, do we?”

  Cody glanced out the window at the aquamarine water of the pool. That’s where he normally saw Uvi swimming. “We should go. It’ll be cooler down there, too.”

  Uvi strolled to the stove and sniffed at the spaghetti sauce in progress. “Very nice, Vivian. A delightful aroma.”

  Vivian flushed, turning to add a package of sliced mushrooms to the pot. “Thank you.”

  Cody noticed how she almost bowed before Uvi. For some reason, her subservience bothered him. Why couldn’t she just stand up and look Uvi straight in the eyes? She was such a timid little thing. She had no reason to be so shy, so nervous. It wasn’t as if Uvi would bite.

  His eyes shifted to Uvi, picturing her in her peach-colored bathing suit, with all her curves and secret places teasing him beneath that taut fabric. When he watched his employer, he felt as if he were under a spell. He wanted her. He longed for her. He dreamed about making love to her at night.

  Some people talked about pheromones, those hormones that supposedly attracted mates to one another. Did Uvi emit pheromones?

  He looked out the screen door toward the blue-green sea. “Why don’t we go for a late afternoon swim? The three of us?”

  Had he really said that? Had he just suggested that the boss lady and her two hired hands hang out at the beach?

  He covered a laugh. God. I’m such a dolt.

  To his surprise, Uvi glanced over her shoulder with an enigmatic smile, purring her words. “What a delightful idea. We’ve been cooped up in this house all day, working so hard… ”

  Cody wondered what work Uvi had been doing, because he normally glimpsed her writing, reading, or lounging. But he didn’t say a word.

  She continued. “I would be delighted to accompany my two hard-working helpers to the beach.”

  Vivian’s back stiffened.

  Uvi turned toward her. “Is something wrong, dear?”

  “Um. No. Sounds great.”

  “Well, then. Let’s plan on three-thirty, shall we?”

  

  Vivian stood before her mirror again, this time in an ugly one-piece flowered suit. “I can’t do this.”

  She pulled down on the bottom of her suit, trying to cover more of her thighs. “Ugh.”

  She needed something to hide behind, and searched in her closet for a wrap. Anything. Even a towel would be better than exposing herself in front of Cody this way.

  Of course, it wouldn’t really matter. She knew he’d be staring at Uvi the whole time. It was obvious; he was besotted.

  Since he’d come inside to help with the indoor chores, she’d already caught him several times gawking at their boss. He seemed hypnotized.

  Then again, she couldn’t blame him. Mizz P, as he called her when she wasn’t in the room, was the kind of woman she hated and worshipped at the same time. She was so gifted, so blessed, so ridiculously gorgeous. With her education, her sophistication, her alabaster skin… she was like a combination of Audrey Hepburn and that beautiful actress who played Sybil in Downton Abbey. What was her name again? Ah, yes, Jessica Findlay Brown.

  She found an old yellow terry beach robe in the back of her closet and grabbed it off the hanger. It would have to do.

  She gathered her sunscreen—last used two months ago—and the romance paperback she’d been reading entitled Cowboy’s Pride by Morgan Blaze. Oh, how she wished she could meet a guy like Cam Thatcher in the book. Strong. Principled. Sexy.

  She shrugged. That kind of luck wasn’t in her future, she just knew it. She’d probably end up a shriveled old maid, rocking on her porch and yelling at kids who walked on her lawn.

  If she ever owned a lawn.

  But how would she afford a home? It just wasn’t to be.

  She sighed, lifted her little beach bag, a
nd joined Uvi and Cody downstairs in the kitchen.

  Uvi wore a new fragrance now, something sweet and flowery. It filled the kitchen. And yes, there was Cody, his eyes gone all dreamy again, staring at her.

  She did a double take. Don’t look at him.

  She couldn’t help it and sneaked another glance.

  The guy was barefoot and shirtless, with baggy swim trunks hanging low on his hips. His chest—smooth and rippled with muscle—shone bronze. His shaggy black hair fell over his eyes, and his lips—

  She tore her eyes away. She’d have to stop reading these romance novels, or she’d never be able to survive. Guys like him never paid her attention, and it was okay. It was just her life.

  He surprised her by turning to her with a smile that made her knees wobble. “Hey. You look nice, Viv.”

  Uvi glanced sideways at her terry robe. “Adorable.”

  Was Uvi being sarcastic? Or serious? Viv’s cheeks burned. “Thanks. Are we ready to go?”

  “Yes.” Uvi turned to show off her stylish white one piece swimsuit cut so high on the sides it practically reached her waist. “But first, what do you think? You like?”

  Vivian nodded. “It’s gorgeous.”

  Cody just stared.

  Uvi donned a purple broad-brimmed sunhat and handed Vivian a bulging straw bag overflowing with beach paraphernalia. “Can you carry this, dear? Cody’s bringing my beach chair and umbrella.”

  She shifted her own bag and accepted the straw bag. “Of course.”

  Cody opened the door for them, and snagged the chair and umbrella from the poolside. “Ready. Let’s go.”

  They walked behind Uvi, who led the way, provocatively swaying her hips, her long legs gliding over the soft grass. Once they left the edge of the lawn—that unnatural, man-made green miracle layered atop the sandy Cape soil—Viv took off her flip-flops and walked barefoot in the scorching sand.

  They made their way along the narrow path to the boardwalk Uvi’s husband had reportedly built years ago, and headed for the shore. At high tide, the turquoise-green water nearly reached the curving ribbon of dried seaweed and flotsam that had gathered at the tide line.

  “Over there.” Uvi pointed to a boulder a hundred yards down the shore. “I like that spot. There’s less grass in the water over there.”