Running Wilde (The Winnie Wilde Series Book 1) Read online

  From there they headed to Santa Monica to look at a condo and a house. When they arrived at the condo, another sleek modern white on white prison cell, the realtor, a woman near Winnie’s age sporting an obvious facelift and helmet hair, handed Ben a flyer and said, “Is this for yourself or for your mother?”

  Winnie was speechless, but Ben handled the situation with charm. Sliding an arm around Winnie’s shoulders, he told the realtor, “For my wife and me.”

  Back in Ben’s Jeep after viewing the condo, Winnie said, “Well, that was humiliating.”

  “Her thinking you’re my mother or me saying we were married?”

  “The first one.” Winnie hesitated, then added. “And the second. I don’t like the idea that the only way our relationship is justified is if we’re married. It’s really none of her business. You’d think people would be more evolved in this day and age, especially with so many older female celebrities with younger men.”

  Ben glanced over at her. “I’m sorry if I offended you by giving her the impression that we’re married.”

  “You didn’t offend me.” Winnie ran a hand through her hair. “It’s the antiquated idea that annoys me.”

  “That older women should only be with men their age or older?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll admit that our age difference did bother me at first, but now it doesn’t. Last night at that charity event, almost no one raised an eyebrow. Not your friend Gordon or any of your other friends. Even Alice Thompson melted by the end of the evening.”

  “Everyone was too busy ogling you to notice our ages,” he said with a grin.

  When she didn’t respond, he grew serious. “What’s really going on with you, Winnie?” he asked. “By the end of the party you were acting differently toward me, and last night it’s like you weren’t even present when we made love.”

  Winnie turned her face away from him when she felt tears threaten. Ben was right. The thoughtless remark of the realtor didn’t cause her anger. It triggered it. She was still pretty upset about Trudie’s MILF remark, even though she’d tried hard to dismiss it. Even Alice’s attempt at soothing her fears about how Ben saw her hadn’t been able to erase the imprint of the vulgarity of the comment.

  Ben put a hand on her shoulder. “Talk to me, Winnie. What’s wrong?”

  After several moments, she turned in her seat to look at him. “Do you see me as a MILF?”

  “What?” He took his hand off her shoulder and quickly leaned backward as if she’d pushed him.

  “A MILF. It’s …,” she started to explain, but he cut her off.

  “I know what a MILF is, Winnie.” He leaned toward her again. “You may be a mom, and I may want to have sex with you, but I can assure you that I have never thought of you as a MILF. Or any woman.”

  “Not even Trudie Levins?” Winnie asked.

  Ben leaned back against his door again, but this time he moved much slower and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he asked, “Did Trudie call you a MILF at the party last night?”

  Winnie, leaning back against her own door, relayed her bathroom conversation with Trudie to Ben. After which, he just shook his head, and said, “That’s how Trudie sees herself. I’ve heard her refer to herself as that many times. She thinks it’s a badge of honor, not a derogatory description.”

  “Is that why you broke it off with her?”

  “Partly,” he answered, “I prefer my women more refined, no matter their age. Trudie is a very wealthy woman and drop-dead gorgeous, but she can be pretty vulgar. I found it tiring after a while.” He put a hand in his pants pocket and pulled out something and handed it to her. “And then there was this.”

  Winnie looked at the item he’d handed her. It was a round medallion. Although Winnie had never seen one, she knew what it was immediately. “You’re an alcoholic?” she asked. “That’s why you never drink?”

  “I was fast on my way to becoming one,” he answered. “After I got dumped by my fiancé and took off, I was partying pretty hard and heavy – drugs and booze, but mostly booze. One day I woke up in some bumfuck motel in Wyoming in a pool of my own vomit. I didn’t know where I was or how I got there. My wallet was gone. I got someone to let me use his phone and called my buddy, who was frantic. We’d gone to some party in Idaho and I’d taken off with two girls. I’d been missing for almost forty-eight hours.”

  “Did he call the police?”

  “He was about to when I reached him. We’d been travelling around in this old camper and he came and got me. But right then and there, I stopped drinking, doing drugs, even smoking.” He laughed. “You don’t have to hit me over the head twice with a bat. Once was enough.” Ben looked out the windshield as he continued, “I called my folks and told them I’d been robbed and wanted to come home. They wired me money. I used it to get some new duds and a plane ticket back to LA.”

  “Did you tell your parents everything that happened?”

  “Yes. They’re not stupid people, Win. Even though I’d cleaned up, they could tell I wasn’t well and was hurting. My dad called a buddy of his who was in AA and he became my sponsor. I’ve been sober three years now. I also went into therapy to learn how to deal with the pain in a healthy way instead of a destructive one.” He turned to look at her again. “When we were dating, Trudie kept trying to get me to drink and do drugs. She loves to party hard and made fun of me for staying sober. The primary reason I broke it off with her is because I value my sobriety and knew she didn’t. That’s not a friend worth having.”

  He held out his hand for the chip. When Winnie handed it back, she held on to his hand a few seconds before releasing it back to him. She looked into his eyes. They were still the beautiful blue-gray she’d first been bowled over by, but now she also noticed wisdom behind them, and a touch of sadness. “You’re an old soul, Ben Church,” she said softly before letting go the chip.

  He put the chip back into his pocket and started the vehicle. They drove the short distance to the next place on the list in silence. It was a small house. Ben parked in front of it. “This is the next place on your realtor’s list. It looks nice.”

  After a tour of the cute little house, Winnie agreed that it was nice but still not what she wanted. “This is the closest so far to what I’m looking for,” she told Ben when they were back in his car.

  “So you’d be happy with a little bungalow like that after your grand house in Cheviot Hills?” he asked her.

  “Happy as a clam at high tide,” she told him with a big grin. “I’ll know the right place when I see it.”

  He started to say something, then stopped. Instead, he reached over and played with her hair. “How about I take you home? I have some stuff I need to take care of before work tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “We good now?” he asked her, looking into her eyes.

  She leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. “We’re very good.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The next week they continued their routine of running each morning followed by lovemaking before turning to their respective work. On Wednesday morning Ben turned to her in bed and said, “How about taking in a movie tomorrow night? Dinner and a movie. I’ll bring my overnight gear.”

  “Sounds like fun,” she answered as she ran a finger down his firm chest from his Adam’s apple to his navel. He shivered from the tickling and playfully batted her hand away.

  “I’ll be done by the end of the week,” he announced.

  Winnie felt her heart skip a beat. They’d never talked about what would happen when the job was over. “That soon?”

  “Yup. It wasn’t a big job. I’ll finish the bedrooms today. Tomorrow I’ll paint the garage wall and touch up a few areas here and there. I’ll hold off on painting the utility room until Friday since Nadia will want to use the washer tomorrow.”

  Silence fell between them and Winnie scooted away a few inches. “Then what?”

  “Then I’ll go on to the next job my Dad has lined up. T
hey’re about done with that remodel from hell. We have a new client over in Mar Vista who’d like us to start as soon as possible. I’ll probably go there on Monday and get it started and see how many of the crew we’ll need for it. If it’s not too big maybe we can split them and handle two jobs at once, like we did with the remodel and your place.”

  He reached over and pulled on the sheet covering her torso until it was down to her waist. She didn’t move to cover her breasts. She was very comfortable being naked in front of him. He traced the breast closest to him with an index finger. “I love your breasts.”

  She let loose with a derisive snort. “My ex wasn’t given to vulgarity as a rule, but he always said I had a nice rack. In fact, he often insisted that I wear very low cut dresses when we went out and took great pleasure when other men leered at me.”

  “You’re a beautiful woman. He liked to show you off.”

  “No, it was more than that,” Winnie said, not looking at him. “It was almost like he was taunting them. He’d even ask me to flirt with these guys while he watched them fawn over me. He said it was good for business. It made me feel cheap.”

  “What does Edward do?”

  “He works in finance. He puts funding packages together for studios for movies and distribution.” She took a deep breath. “He’d say that my flirting greased the wheels for his negotiations. I’m surprised he didn’t offer them my body outright.” She paused and stared at the wall opposite the bed. “I think that’s one of the reasons Edward lost interest in me. He needed younger bait.”

  “What a creep,” Ben said. “Maybe we should introduce him to Trudie?”

  Winnie laughed and shook her head. “An interesting idea, to be sure, but she’s too old for him.”

  Ben leaned over and softly kissed her exposed breast, then leaned away, his face serious. “Winnie, I don’t know what expectations you had about us when your home was finished.”

  She took another breath and waited for the hammer to fall, sure he was dumping her. But in her heart, she knew it wouldn’t crush her. She was different because of her short time with Ben Church – more confident and focused on what she wanted out of life. He had indeed been therapy for her just as Kathy had joked he might be, but in ways much more than just physical.

  “I’d like to continue seeing you, Winnie, if that’s okay with you.” He looked into her face and she realized he’d expected her to dump him. She almost laughed.

  “I’d like that, Ben,” she said. She leaned over and kissed him hard on the mouth. “I’d like that very much.”

  Thursday for lunch, Winnie felt like celebrating the finishing of the house, so she made a pan of lasagna and sat both Nadia and Ben down at the kitchen table. “It’s my way of saying thank you to you both.” She turned to her housekeeper, a short dark woman in her early forties. “Nadia, you’ve been with me a long time. Once I settle somewhere, if you’d like to come work for me at the new place, I’d love that.”

  “Where will that be, Mrs. Crenshaw?” Nadia asked, clearly concerned.

  Winnie didn’t correct Nadia’s use of her married name. “I don’t know yet, Nadia. I only know it will be a much smaller place. I’m hoping to live in Santa Monica or near there. Would that be a problem?”

  “No problem,” Nadia said with a smile. “And a smaller place would be nice.”

  They were almost done with their meal when someone rang the front door bell. Nadia went to answer it. Shortly after, Edward Crenshaw strode into the room with a worried Nadia on his heels.

  Winnie got to her feet. “Edward, what are you doing here?”

  He looked around the kitchen, his eyes settling on the lunch still spread out on the table. “Dining with the help, are you?” Before she could answer, he turned and went back out toward the front door and up the staircase to the second floor. Winnie went after him. When Ben got up and started to follow, she indicated for him to stay behind.

  She found Edward inspecting Tiffany’s newly painted bedroom, then he went into Chet’s. He pushed past Winnie when she demanded to know what he was doing. He went from room to room, inspecting.

  “Edward, you can’t barge in here like this,” she said following him. “Tiffany said you wanted your treadmill, so take it, but in the future call first.”

  Still silent, Edward went downstairs and did an inspection there. Winnie followed him. “If you don’t leave right now, I will call the police.”

  Edward came to a stop in the kitchen and finally addressed her, “Don’t be so dramatic, Eleanor. Tiffany said you were fixing up the place to sell and I wanted to see it for myself.

  “You’re supposed to call before you come over, Edward, you know that. And please address me as Winnie from here on out.”

  A tall man with a bit of paunch that his expensive suit couldn’t disguise, Edward Crenshaw eyed his ex-wife with scorn. “That’s right, I heard that you’d changed your name back to Winifred Wilde. Good name for a pole dancer,” he snorted.

  Winnie pointed toward the door, “Please leave, Edward, or I will call the police. I’ll have the treadmill sent to you.”

  Ignoring her, Edward looked at Ben, who was still on his feet watching and ready to eject the intruder if needed. “Are you the contractor’s assistant?” he asked Ben.

  “I am the contractor,” Ben answered stiffly. “Ben Church, one of the owners.”

  “You’ve done a nice job here, son,” Edward said to him. “But the color in the bedrooms upstairs is all wrong. Please repaint them their original color.”

  Ben took two steps forward, coming closer to Edward. They were nearly the same height. Edward was heavier, but Ben more muscled and fit. “I painted those per Ms. Wilde’s wishes,” Ben told him in an even voice. “I work for her.”

  “You don’t own this house, Edward,” Winnie reminded him. “I do. So get out.” She picked up the phone. “Or I will call the police.”

  “Calm down, Eleanor,” Edward said. “I want to buy the place.” He pulled a pen from inside his coat pocket. Walking over to the table, he picked up a paper napkin and jotted a figure down on it and handed it to her. “And this is what I’m paying you. How soon can you be out?”

  Edward turned back to Nadia, as if seeing her for the first time. “Nadia, you will, of course, still be employed here.” Nadia just stared at him, but moved closer to Winnie.

  Winnie looked at the napkin in disbelief. “You want to buy this place?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “Victoria and I are getting married in two weeks and she wants to live here. That price also includes all the furniture. We’ll take it as is.”

  “You expect me to just pack up my clothes and toothbrush and leave?” Winnie asked in disbelief. “Just like that? As if I never lived here?”

  “Am I not making myself clear?” Edward asked with impatience.

  “What woman in her right mind would want to live in the same house her husband’s first wife set up?” Ben asked.

  “This is none of your concern,” Edward said to Ben without looking at him. “As soon as Mrs. Crenshaw has moved out, you will repaint those rooms, as I have ordered.”

  “Listen, pal,” Ben said, taking another step forward. “I don’t work for you. And you don’t own this place.”

  “And you never will!” Winnie crumpled up the napkin and threw it in Edward’s face. “Tell the truth. This isn’t Vicki’s idea, it’s yours, Edward. You want to live here. And you’re turning her into a mindless robot just as you did me. You’ve even formalized her name. She’s been Vicki for the past two years. Now that you’re marrying her, she’s Victoria?” She took a couple of deep breaths. “Now get out of my house.”

  “I think you need to leave, Mr. Crenshaw,” Ben said, taking Edward by the arm.

  Edward yanked his arm out of Ben’s grasp. “Get your filthy hands off of me.”

  “Leave,” Ben ordered. “Ms. Wilde doesn’t want you here.”

  Edward glared at Ben, studying him for a few moments while the whole roo
m went silent. Then he looked at Winnie. “I see how it is, Eleanor. You’re not just cooking for the help, you’re fucking them.” He jerked a thumb at Ben. “Is this guy the first or have you done the pool guy, too? How about Lorenzo, the gardener?”

  In a rage, Winnie grabbed the thing closest to her – a crystal vase of flowers – and threw it at Edward. He ducked just in time. The vase hit the doorjamb and shattered, scattering water and flowers.

  “My mother gave us that vase,” Edward protested.

  Winnie stomped to a nearby built-in cabinet with glass doors. From it she pulled out a crystal dessert plate. “She also gave us this.” She hurled the plate at Edward. Again he dodged it. It shattered on the tile floor, filling the room with jagged off key notes. “And this.” She grabbed another vase and sent it hurling.

  Ben dashed to her side and held her arms before she could grab anything else. She didn’t struggle to free herself but glared at Edward with fire in her eyes. “Get out, Edward,” she spit at him, “I’ll burn the place down before I’ll sell it to you.”

  Edward stared at them as he straightened his tie and smoothed back his thinning hair. “Nadia,” he said to the frightened housekeeper, “please clean this mess up. And as soon as Mrs. Crenshaw has vacated the place I want you to give it a thorough cleaning, top to bottom, before my new wife and I move in.”

  Nadia moved in close to Winnie. “I don’t work for you, Mr. Crenshaw,” she stammered. “I work for …,” she paused, looked at Winnie, then said, “I work for Ms. Wilde. When she leaves, I will go work for her at her new place.”

  After a few seconds of silence, Edward said, “Fine, just don’t expect any references from me if you need them.” Without another word, he left, slamming the front door behind him.

  Winnie slipped out of Ben’s arms to the floor. Kneeling on the tile, she began to sob. Nadia knelt down beside her and wrapped her arms around her employer. “Don’t worry, he’s gone. I never did like him,” Nadia told her. Winnie smiled and hugged her back.

  After Ben helped the two women to their feet, Nadia started cleaning up the broken glass. “No,” Winnie protested, “It’s my mess. I’ll do it.”