Running Wilde (The Winnie Wilde Series Book 1) (6 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“So you’re really going through with this?” Tiffany asked. She stood in the middle of her old bedroom eyeing the chaos of boxes. She looked both cross and confused.

“Yes, I am,” Winnie told her. “The house goes on the market right after the contractor finishes painting. I need you to decide which of that stuff you want to take with you and which to discard.”

“Who did you hire, Mom?” Chet asked, showing up in the hall just outside Tiffany’s old room. “They did a great job on the few things I’ve noticed. That shelf in my room is fixed and so is my window. And the door downstairs doesn’t stick anymore.”

“You’ll also notice that the faucet in your bathroom is repaired,” Winnie said. “The contractor went from top to bottom checking everything in every room – all the pipes, doors, windows and drains. There weren’t many major repairs, mostly little things, but they’re done now, and it will help show the house better according to the realtor. Monday he’s going to work on the front walk lighting. A couple of the outside lamps haven’t been working properly. After that, he’ll do some repair work on the garage, then start the painting. Both of your rooms will be completely painted. Other areas will be touched up.”

“What about the furniture and all your stuff?” Tiffany asked. She was now sitting on a corner of her bed, her face open and curious. Winnie was pleased to see that her daughter had decided sulking wasn’t getting her anywhere and changed course.

“Once I get rid of all the stuff I don’t want, some will go into storage,” she told them. “The furniture will remain to stage the house for showing. After, I will move it to my new place. Or at least as much of it as I want.”

Both of the kids’ heads shot in her direction. “Your new place?” Chet asked first. “But I thought you were hitting the road like some vagabond.”

Winnie crossed her arms in front of her and shot her son a scowl. “Vagabond? Really?”

“Well, you said you were going to travel extensively,” Chet said, getting mildly defensive.

“Travel, yes,” she responded. “Hitting the rails like a dustbowl hobo, no.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking that I really should have a home base, and after talking to Kathy and my realtor, I’ve decided to look for a nice condo, maybe in Santa Monica, or even a small house. Something that’s easy and less expensive to maintain.”

Tiffany got up from the bed and went to her mother. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses, Mom. You can’t live out of a suitcase, not at your age.”

“My age?” Winnie parroted. “I’m fifty, Tiff. I have a long ways to go before I’m ready to be wheeled around while I gum my food.” Winnie thought about Ben and wondered what her kids would say if they knew about her affair.

“Tiffany didn’t mean it that way, Mom,” Chet said, “We just want you to be safe.”

“I still intend to do a lot of travelling, just not be homeless. In fact, I’m going to some open houses on Sunday.”

“Do you want me to come along?” Tiffany asked, clearly pleased with the turn of events. “Mark will be studying all day.”

“Thank you, dear,” Winnie told her, “but a friend is going with me.” She didn’t disclose that the friend was Ben. She’d asked if he was free to house hunt with her on Sunday since he was spending the night and he had eagerly accepted. Winnie had wanted his expert contractor’s eye along.

The day went by quickly as Winnie helped her son and daughter go through their things. She’d made a big pot of turkey chili that morning, knowing both of her kids like it. They ate it at the kitchen table with salad and cornbread and laughed as they swapped stories about the house and their years in it. Winnie was in heaven having her children all to herself. Now that they were grown, it was a rare thing.

“Mom,” Tiffany said as they were finishing lunch. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Chet looked as surprised as Winnie. “You mean a man?” Chet asked his sister.

“Yes, of course, a man,” Tiffany told her brother with a roll of her eyes. “Just because her BFF is gay, it doesn’t mean Mom is.” She turned to her mother, her eyes shiny with excitement. “He’s very nice. Divorced and quite attractive. He works with me. I told him how great you are and he wants to meet you.”

“But I thought you think I’m nuts,” Winnie said dryly. She took a sip of iced tea.

“I don’t think you’re nuts, Mom,” Tiffany answered, “I just think that maybe you’re at loose ends now that Dad’s gone. You need some companionship.”

Winnie almost laughed out loud thinking about her activities with Ben Church and how some of that
companionship
had happened on the very table at which they were seated. She took another sip of tea. “I’m pleased that you’re so concerned Tiffany, but I think I’m still capable of finding my own dates. In fact, I have one tonight.” Both of her kids stared at her with open mouths.

“Where did you meet him, Mom?” Chet asked.

“While I was running,” she answered truthfully.

“But what do you know about this guy?” Tiffany asked with suspicion.

Winnie held up her left hand and ticked off Ben’s attributes on her fingers with her right hand. “He’s a business owner. Single. Nice looking. A college grad. And in great shape for his age.” She put her hand down and picked up her glass again. “We’ve already had a couple of lunches together.”

A stunned silence fell over the table, then Chet asked, “Does he have any kids?”

“Nope,” Winnie answered.

“Well,” Tiffany said, “I still think you should meet my guy, just in case this doesn’t pan out.”

Instead of answering, Winnie started clearing the table. “Why don’t you two keep working on your rooms while I clean up. I’ll be up to help shortly.”

Chet brought a stack of dishes over to the sink. After placing them on the counter, he said to his mother, “I think it’s great you’re going out, Mom. Just be careful.”

“I will, don’t worry,” she said with a smile for his concern.

“By the way,” Tiffany said bringing the salad bowl over to the counter, “I talked to Dad and told him you’re selling the house. He said there might be a few things in the garage he wants so he might stop by. He also said he wants his treadmill.”

“Your father has been gone for two years and now he wants the treadmill?” Winnie asked with surprise.

Tiffany shrugged. “I guess he wants to keep in shape too. You don’t need it, do you?”

“Not really,” Winnie said. “I only use it when I don’t have the time to do a trail run or if the weather is bad. If I need one, I’ll buy another after the move.” She waved a hand in the air, dismissing the problem. “Tell him to call first to make sure I’m home before he pops over.”

CHAPTER NINE

When Ben picked Winnie up for their date that evening, he let out a low wolf whistle of appreciation when he saw her. “I was hoping you’d wear that dress,” he said. Winnie had on the black lace and beaded cocktail dress Ben had admired earlier in the week. Her hair was pinned up with a few curls allowed to roam. She was also wearing full make up and very high heels. “I’m going to be the envy of every guy in the place tonight.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she told him, eyeing his snappy dark suit. His thick hair was slicked back. He looked like he’d just walked off of a magazine cover. “I’m going to be the envy of every woman.”

With a single finger, Ben traced a line from one of Winnie’s diamond earrings down her neck and across her chest into her ample cleavage. “Maybe we don’t need to go,” he suggested. Before she could answer, he let out a heavy sigh. “But I did promise Gordon I’d be there. It’s a fund raiser for the kids’ program he heads.”

“Then we’d better get going.” Winnie picked up her evening bag and wrap and stepped very close to Ben. She whispered something in his ear that made his eyes pop. “That,” she said, handing him her wrap, “is the treat you’ll get later tonight if you’re good.”

He shook his head as he draped the wrap over her shoulders. “Ms. Wilde, you are a dirty girl, and I love it.”

The event was held at a beautiful mansion that could pass for a mini-palace. It was located in Beverly Hills, just north of Sunset Boulevard. The estate was large and set behind thick walls with a curving drive up to the house, where valets waited to park Ben’s car.

“I’ve been here before,” Winnie said to Ben as they walked up the steps to the main entrance, which was open and welcoming. “Doesn’t this place belong to Hunter McDermott, the philanthropist?”

“It could be,” Ben answered. “I know he backs a lot of programs throughout the city, including Gordon’s.”

As they entered the house, they could hear the buzz of conversation and music coming from somewhere far in the back. At the door was an elegant butler with very dark skin and short salt and pepper hair, whom Winnie also remembered from her last visit. He greeted them, his voice rich with an island accent, saying, “Welcome, the event is being held on the south patio. Carlos will show you the way.” He gestured with a barely perceptible wave of two fingers encased in a white glove to a short uniformed Latino standing nearby.

Carlos stepped forward. “Please follow me,” he told them and started walking past a grand curving staircase as wide as a four-lane road. As they followed Carlos, they passed remarkable artwork, huge vases of flowers, and impressive furnishings.

“Wow,” Ben whispered to Winnie. “This place is like a museum. Hard to believe someone lives here.”

“You should see the upstairs,” she whispered back. “On the level above us there is a full ballroom and a dining room with a table that can seat thirty.”

At the back of the house was a room as large as the entire downstairs of Winnie’s home, filled with sofas and chairs and tables and a very busy built-in bar. Patio doors had been opened and folded out of the way, making it appear as if the wall had disappeared, seamlessly joining the inside and the outside entertainment areas. Carlos gestured to the party in full swing on the patio below them, then left, probably to return to the front to guide the next guests. Many guests were clustered inside the house, but most were outside, enjoying the lovely evening.

They were barely down the wide and lengthy back stairs when a tall African-American man came up, taking the steps two at a time. “Ben,” he called, “I’m so glad you made it.” He came to a stop in front of them and beamed. He appeared to be around the same age as Ben, and had a similar build. He wasn’t handsome in a classical sense. His nose looked like it had been broken at least once and his dark cheeks were spattered with old acne scars. His eyes were small and almost appeared closed. But when he smiled, flashing a wide mouth of white teeth, he looked like a handsome prince.

The two men hugged tightly and patted each other’s backs with affection. “Winnie,” Ben said when they were done greeting each other, “this is my good friend Gordon Thompson. Gordon runs an athletic program to keep LA kids off the street and off drugs. This is a fund raiser for his project.” He turned to his friend. “This is Winnie Wilde.”

When Winnie held out her right hand to Gordon, instead of shaking it, he bowed over it and kissed the back of it. “Yes, the beautiful runner.” Winnie looked from Gordon to Ben in question.

Ben laughed and explained, “Gordon was the friend I was with when I first spotted you running the trail.”

“He spotted?” Gordon mocked. “I saw you first, Winnie, believe me. He was too busy huffing and puffing to notice anything but oxygen.” Gordon laughed and his face lit up.

“Is Evie here?” Ben asked as they continued their way down the stairs to the party.

“But of course,” Gordon answered with an even bigger smile. “She said only her water breaking would keep her away.” He looked at Winnie. “Evie is my beautiful and very pregnant wife. It’s our first child and she’s feeling big and ugly. Please say something nice to her, Winnie. Maybe coming from another woman, it will sink in. At this point, she thinks anything I say is just to keep the peace.” He winked at Winnie. “Which is partially true.”

Winnie smiled with understanding. “I’ve had two children and feeling big and ugly is quite normal, especially near the end.”

Gordon maneuvered them through the crowd to a cluster of tables and chairs where guests were seated chatting. At one sat a lovely young African-American woman in the advance stages of pregnancy. “Look who I found, Evie,” Gordon said to her.

When Evie saw Ben, she squealed with delight and started to get up, but Ben immediately went to her and insisted she stay put. He bent his tall frame down and embraced her with the same affection he had her husband. When the hug ended, Ben went to a dark pudgy woman seated next to Evie and hugged her. When the hugs ended, Gordon introduced Winnie to his wife Evie and his mother Alice Thompson. Both women shook her hand politely, Evie with more warmth than Alice, who looked Winnie up and down with such naked disapproval that Winnie back up a step.

Gordon held out a hand to his wife. “Come on, girl, let’s dance. They just started a slow song. I think you can handle that.”

After a brief hesitation, Evie started to hoist her swollen body from the chair with Gordon’s assistance. “Might as well,” Evie said. “This might be my last chance for a long time.”

When they left, Ben asked Winnie what she wanted to drink and if Alice wanted anything. The women gave him their orders and he went in search of the nearest bar.

“Sit yourself down,” Alice told Winnie. “I won’t bite.”

Winnie sat in the chair Evie had vacated and smiled at Alice. Alice did not smile back. She was about to say something when a slight man with white hair and a trimmed white beard stopped by the table. Winnie recognized him as Hunter McDermott. “Alice,” he said, “where did your son go? There’s someone I want him to meet.”

“He’s on the dance floor with his wife, Hunter,” Alice answered. “But let them have this time together before you go dragging him off on business.”

He chuckled at the order. “I promise, Alice. No rush.”

Hunter McDermott turned his smile on Winnie, his gaze lingering as he studied her face. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he said to her, “but your name escapes me, even though you look so familiar. Have we met before?”

“Yes, Mr. McDermott,” Winnie told him. “I attended a dinner you gave here once for Geoffrey Evans. I was married to Edward Crenshaw at the time.”

“Edward, of course.” Hunter continued to study her as he delved into his memory. “You’re Eleanor Crenshaw, aren’t you?”

Impressed with his memory, Winnie held out her right hand to him. “I took back my maiden name of Winfred Wilde when we divorced. Please call me Winnie.”

“And you must call me Hunter.” Hunter held onto her hand after shaking it and said, “Edward’s obvious loss, I’m sure.” When he let go, he said to both women, “I have to run, but both of you ladies must save me a dance, especially you, Alice.”

“Get out of here, you old fool,” Alice said with a laugh as he melted into the crowd. She turned to Winnie when they were alone again. “Good catch, that one,” she said, “and he likes you. I understand Hunter is a widower.”

Winnie gave Alice’s words careful thought before answering. “You really mean a more appropriate catch than Ben Church, don’t you?” She looked Alice directly in the eye as she spoke.

Without taking her eyes from Winnie’s, Alice answered, “Yes, I do.”

Winnie settled back in her chair and again gave careful thought before commenting. “Alice, I can tell that you and your family think highly of Ben, and while he and I have only known each other a short time, I can assure you that I only have his best interests at heart.”

Alice uttered a deep and throaty chuckle. “I thought sure you were going to tell me to mind my own damn business.”

Winnie gave her a genuine smile. In spite of the woman’s nosiness, she was liking Alice Thompson. “Believe me, Alice, it was the first thing that crossed my mind, but I’m a mother too and my son is close to Ben’s age. You were being nosy out of love and I recognize and respect that. Ben and I are friends. Real friends. Long after we stop dating, I have no doubt at all that we will remain good friends.”

Alice turned in her chair to face Winnie. “Well, well, Winnie Wilde,” she said slowly, “Bennie has dated quite a few older women, but you are the first real surprise.”

“You two look like you’re getting into trouble,” Ben said, returning to the table with their drinks.

“We’re plotting the takeover of the free world,” Alice quipped. She accepted the drink he handed her and raised it in a toast. “To the success of this event and to friendship.” Ben and Winnie raise their glasses with her.

“I like the Thompsons,” Winnie said in Ben’s ear while they danced to a slow song a while later. “And they clearly love you.”

“Yeah,” he said, “Gordon and I were on many sports teams together as kids. For a short while in high school, he even dated my younger sister.” He pulled slightly back so he could look at her. “Did Alice pump you for information about our relationship?”

“A little, but not too bad. I don’t think she approves, but I also don’t think she hates me.” Winnie laughed.

“No one could hate you, Winnie.” He drew her close and pressed his face against hers while they danced.

Winnie was having a marvelous time. The music, the food and drink, and the company were all enjoyable, especially the company. The Thompson table became their home base throughout the night, returning to it after dancing or mingling. Hunter McDermott even returned and finally coaxed Alice out of her seat for a few dances. When he was introduced to Ben, he cast a look back and forth between Ben and Winnie with open curiosity, but said nothing.

“Don’t you just love this place?” a woman asked Winnie while they stood in front of a large mirror in a beautiful bathroom. “Gotta love a man who designs his home with commercial size men’s and ladies’ rooms to accommodate party guests.” She applied fresh lipstick to her full lips. Next to her, Winnie was washing her hands.

“Yes,” Winnie said with a small chuckle, “fancy stalls and fixtures just like in a 5-star hotel. No waiting in long lines for a single facility.” She picked up a linen towel from a small stack and dried her hands.

“You’re Ben Church’s date, aren’t you?” the woman asked as she stashed her lipstick into her jeweled designer evening bag.

“Yes,” Winnie answered, “I came here with Ben.” She turned and studied the woman. She had long golden hair and large blue eyes enhanced by perfect makeup. Her killer figure was barely concealed by a form-fitting silk cocktail dress in teal with a very low neckline. Winnie guessed them to be close in age, even though the other woman’s face did not have the same fine lines as Winnie’s. The woman was stunning and from the way she held herself, she knew it.

“So you’re his current MILF?” she asked Winnie.

“His what?” Winnie tilted her head in confusion.

The woman laughed. “I’m Trudie Levins,” she announced. “Ben’s last MILF.” She looked Winnie up and down in a predatory manner.

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t, dear,” Trudie said with a feline smirk. “But you will.”

When Winnie returned to the Thompson table, Ben was not there. “Where’s Ben,” she asked Alice, who was alone. She sat next down next to her.

“He just got pulled onto the dance floor by that Jezebel.” Alice pointed to the crowded dance floor and Winnie spotted Ben with Trudie Levins. They were dancing to a slow dance, but not cheek-to-cheek. Ben was holding her in a very formal and proper manner. While Winnie watched, Trudie removed her right hand from Ben’s shoulder and squeezed his butt with it. Ben slipped his hand down and removed Trudie’s hand, placing it back on his shoulder. This happened a couple of times and each time, Ben made it clear he wasn’t interested. Winnie remembered what Ben had said about middle-aged women who were cougars and how they hunted young men. Trudie was certainly living up to that definition.

Winnie leaned over to Alice and whispered, “That woman introduced herself to me in the ladies room. She gave me the impression that she and Ben once dated.”