Chapter 7
Violet
“Are you seeing this?” Sophie said, giggling and nudging Violet as they stood against the wall and watched the dramatic entry of Blake Wilson, Hollywood actor, sexy model, and Encounter Bay’s all-round favorite son.
Oh, dear god, there he was in the flesh!
Like, just over there!
Not just on her phone or TV screen. Violet swallowed hard.
Why was he still so damned hot?
Like, even from here he looked Olympic-level hot. Way too hot for her to be lusting over hot.
He was rocking a black band t-shirt and a pair of well-worn black skinny jeans that clung to his ass for dear life. She felt jealous of those jeans.
“Look at Batty Betty, she looks like she is going to have a stroke,” Sophie said with a snort.
Violet followed her gaze and sure enough, there was Betty front row and center, hugging Blake and pushing off anyone who tried to separate them. Blake looked like he wanted to be anywhere but right there with Batty Betty’s beehive jammed against his face.
“I never took her for a fangirl,” Sophie said with a snort.
Violet had arrived just before Mrs Wilson got back with Blake.
Applying her well-thought-out ways to keep away from Blake, she snagged a spot near the dessert table, against the garage wall. That way she could see him coming from all angles. She hoped she could blend in with the dark grey garage wall and that Blake wouldn’t see her there.
To make that a viable option, she probably shouldn’t have worn red.
Yeah, she was going to need at least a whole plate of cupcakes to deal with this shit.
Sophie found her and that’s where they stayed, waiting for the hometown hero to return.
“There you are, sexy!” Jamie said as he walked over and stood next to Sophie, leaning back against the wall and rubbing her hip lustfully.
Cue eye roll!
Ugh! Perfect couples made her want to vomit.
Jamie was one of those preppy looking dudes who did up the top button of his polo top. He went to some ivy league school where he hung out with his rich-ass friends and now he worked at his father’s law firm an hour’s drive away in Houston.
Sure, he was cute in a preppy kind of way with sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes, but let’s face it, he was no Blake Wilson.
Violet rolled her eyes. It was so not fun being around love-sick fools constantly. Not that she was jealous, because she wasn’t.
Okay, fine, just a touch.
Her love life consisted of repressing her feelings, a tub of ice cream, and PicMe.
“Are you ready to meet my ass-hat big brother?” Sophie asked Jamie.
Violet watched as Jamie furrowed his brow at Sophie.
“Why do you hate him?”
“It’s not that I hate him, but he was really mean to me when I was a kid.”
“Cruel, the word is cruel, Sophie,” Violet added, shoving a huge cupcake into her mouth and not caring where the frosting ended up, or who was watching for that matter.
“Well, he sure seems to be enjoying the attention,” Jamie said as they watched Blake move through the crowd shaking hands and smiling at people.
“No, he’s not, he hates it, and it’s making us feel better to see him squirm,” Sophie said with a sly grin.
◆◆◆
The sun had set, everyone had eaten, and the party was in full swing, with everyone taking advantage of the Wilson hospitality. And by that, Violet meant that everyone was hammered, including Batty Betty, whose grey beehive was now sitting at an alarming angle and looking like it was going to topple right off her head at any moment.
Mr Wilson’s old-school vinyl collection was booming loud and clear and Mrs Wilson was busy overseeing the caterers who were cooking food for the huge buffet table she had going. There were shrimps, lobsters, roast meats, salads, burgers, and hotdogs. Every angle was covered. Mrs W really knew how to throw a party.
Sophie had snuck off somewhere quiet with Jamie about twenty minutes ago and Violet was now all alone, holding up the garage wall and munching on a plate of brownies. She had moved onto the brownies after polishing off a whole plate of cupcakes, while keeping an eagle eye out for Blake. So far, he hadn’t even looked in her direction.
See, this attraction thing is ridiculous!
You're ridiculous, he is never ever going to like you back!
He hasn’t even noticed you.
You’re crazy.
“Violet, there you are dear,” came Mrs Wilson’s sweet voice startling Violet out of her thoughts. She looked away from Blake having a beer with his old school buddies on the Wilsons’ enormous patio towards Mrs Wilson. She was looking fancy as ever in a lovely tea-length floral dress. Violet smiled at her and hoped she hadn’t gotten any frosting from the cupcakes down the front of her dress or in her hair. “It’s lovely to see you here, I miss you when you don’t come to our parties,” Mrs Wilson said with a sad smile. “I’m sorry…” Violet trailed off, not quite sure what to tell the older lady.
I miss all your parties because I’m scared of running into your hotshot son?
Because I totally love him and he will never like me back.
She sighed at her train of thought. It was the truth, there was no way in hell Blake would ever be interested in her, ever.
“You get in there and enjoy yourself, you’re too pretty to be a wallflower, my dear,” Mrs Wilson said, patting her shoulder as one of the older ladies approached her.
So not doing that, Mrs W.
Violet watched Mrs Wilson move away and turned her attention back to the party. Everyone was getting rowdy and it had darkened, which meant her quiet spot was now a dark corner. Violet looked longingly at the plate of brownies.
Maybe just one more wouldn’t hurt.
She grabbed a brownie quickly and resumed her spot against the wall, scanning the crowd looking for Blake. He was last seen over there with a bunch of guys his own age holding a fresh beer. Violet could see they had all moved, so she concentrated on the brownie, which was to die for. After polishing off the brownie and chatting to a couple of people, Violet was left alone in the corner. She took out her phone and checked the time. It was only 8 pm, probably still too early to go. Mrs Wilson would notice. She would wait until 9, then leave. After checking her phone for emails, Violet loaded PicMe.
What are you doing? You have the real deal across the room!
Yeah, but she wasn’t planning on going over and chatting with him.
Wimp!
Violet browsed Blake’s PicMe, but he hadn’t posted anything today.
Damn it!
Violet put her phone back in her clutch and looked around for something to do. Her eyes landed on the dessert table. She really didn’t need another brownie… but…
Fuck it!
Picking up another one, Violet groaned as she bit into the moist and fudgy brownie.
So damned good!
As Violet slumped against the wall again, she thought her strategy for keeping away from Blake had worked out well, so she would definitely be using it for Sophie’s wedding.
Taking another bite of the brownie, she felt someone slide up the wall and lean against her. The hair on her neck instantly stood to attention.
Oh no!
Hell, no!
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Violence,” came that deep sexy voice she knew so well, followed by a hot breath that tickled her ear.
Oh god, it was him, he was standing close to her and breathing in her ear!
How did she not see him come over here?
You were too busy eating a plate full of brownies!!
Trying to swallow the mouthful of brownie that had suddenly turned to ash in her mouth, she began to choke.
Great! Thanks, body!
She turned away from Blake and frantically grabbed for a napkin on the dessert table, spitting out the mouthful of offending brownie into a napkin and praying he didn’t see. Violet took a deep breath, stepped away from the table, swung around, and braced herself as she looked at the handsomest man she had ever seen.
Like, ever.
Like, seriously hot.
Damn it.
Violet felt her heart flutter as she took in the sight of Blake.
His jet-black hair was cut in a style popular these days, long on top and short on the sides, and his tanned skin and blue eyes made a stunning combination. He was wearing a black band t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans, his trademark style. Violet let her gaze sweep over his right arm, inked all the way to his wrist.
How did the tattoos add to his hotness?
She wasn’t really into inked men… but, oh mama!!
Violet felt her cheeks redden and her heart rate spike when his big blue eyes landed on her. Oh god, she felt so hot under his stare!
“What do you want, Blake,” Violet said in a strangled whisper, trying to swallow the remnants of the brownie of death.
Please don’t let him notice that I nearly died choking on that brownie!
She so had brownie teeth!
She was finding it hard trying to control her rapidly beating heart and her flaming crotch at once. “Nothing, aren’t you happy to see me?” he replied with a smirk, his lip curving up on its left side to expose that dimple she was so very fond of.
Violet felt on fire as his eyes blazed a path from her face down to her shoes.
Since when did Blake Wilson look at her like that?
Oh god, it was panty-melting!
She watched on, unsure if she was dreaming or if this was really happening, as his eyes raked back up her body and landed on hers, then slipped down to her chest and back to her face, a sensual smile spread across his lips and Violet gulped.
He totally just checked out her tits!
Was that the longest look in history?
She felt like a deer stuck in the headlights. She was having an internal freakout. Was she dreaming? She had to be dreaming!
Cool it, Vi, he was probably calculating how much weight you’ve gained.
He’s not interested, he likes those stick-thin LA bitches.
And there has been a long line of LA bitches, according to EntertainMe TV, remember!!
With all this looking going on, Violet had forgotten what he had said to her and the moment stretched on until Blake opened his mouth. “I must say, Violence, you’ve filled out…” Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, Violet reached out and slapped him across the face.
Hard.
So hard that the sound of the slap ricocheted around the small space. Violet looked out to see if anyone had heard it, but luckily everyone was too busy having a great time to notice that she had just assaulted the guest of honor.
Her eyes went wide as she looked back at Blake. He’s eyes were just as wide as he looked at her in shock as he rubbed his reddening cheek.
Jesus, she had just slapped Hollywood’s hottest actor.
But he kind of had it coming, because he was going to say something about how fat she was. And there was no way she was going to take his shit like she did when they were kids.
She was no longer a child!
“What was that for?” Blake asked, looking about as shocked as she felt, while he rubbed his cheek.
“I’m not going to stand here and let you call me fat! I haven’t seen you in 13 years, and that’s the first thing you’re going to tell me? Well, guess what? I already know I’m fat and I don’t need you pointing it out,” Violet could hear herself rambling.
Shut up, Violet!!
Violet snapped her mouth shut, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked at the ground.
“I must say, Violence, you’re living up to your nickname tonight. If you had let me finish my sentence…”
Violet cut Blake off again. Who did he think he was? Just because he was famous, he thought he could say what he wanted about her weight! “I’m thirty years old, Blake, and I’m done taking your shit!” Violet yelled, louder then she should have.
Violet watched as Blake looked at her furrowing his eyebrows.
Who slaps the guy you love for looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before? He might actually like what he sees. Who are you trying to kid, he was just trying to calculate how many pounds she had gained.
Dear god! This was a train wreck!
On the plus side, she guessed she was keeping her true feelings under wraps.
Score!
The silence between them grew, Violet didn’t know what to say, and it seemed Blake was at a loss for words.
“Ah, so why aren’t you out there partying?” Blake asked, trying a different approach, no cocky smile this time. Back to the old Blake of her childhood, he turned and pointed towards the large crowd.
“I just like watching and I have to leave soon,” Violet said as they both looked out onto the makeshift dance floor. It was full of people dancing like it was the 70s, the 80s, and in Batty Betty's case, the 50s.
Oh no, she just started the hand jive to a Prince song!
Blake sighed beside her and she turned to look at him again. His blue eyes softened as he inched closer. “Violence,” he whispered. Violet felt a chill run down her spine and all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
His face was coming closer. With a soft look in his eyes, he shuffled closer to her and licked his lips. She felt caught up in the moment with him. Was he going to kiss her?
Violet swallowed the lump in her throat.
Who are you kidding, Violet?!
Remember The Incident!
Violet broke eye contact with Blake and took a step back.
“Call me Violence one more time and you’ll remember just why you call me that,” Violet said, wishing she could just facepalm herself as she took another giant step away from him, faking anger.
That sentence didn’t even sound correct!
Maybe she should just punch him in his sexy smug face, for old times’ sake.
Why did that stupid nickname piss her off so much? It was fitting, how many times had she punched him…
“Is that a threat? Am I supposed to be scared of you, a little girl?” he said in the menacing voice of their youth. The soft look in his eyes disappeared and now they were full of mirth.
This was the Blake Wilson she was used to, the asshole one.
Violet saw red. Then she did something she hadn’t done in a long time and lost her cool. She swung and punched him in the stomach, hard. Blake made an OOF sound as the air rushed out of his lungs and he doubled over, clutching his stomach.
Stepping away from Blake and all the intense feelings he seemed to arouse in her genital area, Violet turned and started walking fast. When she heard Blake call her name, she broke into a jog and wove in and out between everyone on the dancefloor to make a mad dash inside and up the back staircase.
The good thing about practically growing up at the Wilson mansion was that Violet knew her way around this over-the-top house and its massive grounds. She climbed the steps until she got to the third floor. She made her way into one of the giant attic rooms and shut the door. This room had been Sophie’s old playroom, with sweeping views of the coast and huge bay windows letting in light. She flicked on the light and leaned against the door. She stood there and tried to control her rapidly beating heart.
She groaned and put her hand over her face. What had just transpired down there with Blake was a total disaster! She shouldn’t have hit him, or slapped him for that matter. But he kind of did have it coming, he was going to say something about her weight, she just knew it. If there was one thing Blake Wilson knew how to do, it was push her buttons to the point of no return. Violet pushed herself off the door frame and walked across the vast attic space to the nearest window seat. Slumping onto the window seat, she sighed. From up here she could see that the party was still in full swing and she people-watched for a while as she tried to sort out her thoughts.
Was it just her or did he actually look at her boobs? His gaze had lingered on her chest for longer than appropriate. Was she reading the signs right? Or was this like when she was 17 and she’d gotten the signs all wrong?
And why was he still so handsome? Oh god, the cameras didn’t do him justice, he was so very hot and way out of her league. Hell, he even smelt good. Like, doughnut shop good, but with man smell.
Her instincts told her that he liked her, from the way his blue eyes sparkled to the smirk he had on his face when he talked to her. And when he leaned closer and his eyes went all soft looking, like he was going to kiss her. What in the hell was that all about? Why would he just go in for a kiss after 13 years of not seeing her?
Maybe she was reading too much into Blake Wilson and he wasn’t trying to kiss her at all…
Or perhaps she just had no idea how to read the signals and it was all in her head.
It was probably that one.
Seriously.
He was seriously hot, and she was, well, not as hot. Less hot.