Trixie Belden stood outside of the coffee shop that was on the verge of opening up in downtown Sleepyside. It was right near the train station for the harried commuters; and right in the heart of the shopping district for those weary shoppers needing a caffeine jolt.
There was a large sign in front. Now Hiring, it read, and she hesitated before walking in to complete an application for barista. She felt vaguely disloyal to Wimpy's. However, Wimpy's wasn't hiring. Mike hadn't needed anyone in years; his staff was intensely loyal to the popular diner.
Crimper's Department Store wasn't hiring either. Neither was the hardware store, the daycare place (although she shuddered at being left with a bunch of Bobbys) or the bookstore. She might have gotten a job at her dad's bank, but even they weren't hiring. She desperately needed a job to get her mind off of one Jim Frayne. Oh, and to save for college, too.
Honey Wheeler, her best friend, was working for her father this summer. That meant working from home occasionally and going into New York City with the peripatetic Matthew Wheeler. Diana Lynch, the other female member of the BWGs, was spending the summer out west, helping her Uncle Monty with his dude ranch.
The boys were all counselors at various upstate camps. Brian and Mart were at a science-themed camp; Jim at one for disadvantaged children and Dan was at a camp that emphasized outdoor activity and getting fit.
The BWGS were scattered this summer. It was just a reminder that they were growing up, and things were changing. Not fast enough to suit Trixie, however; she was still pining after the most wonderful boy in the world.
The most wonderful boy who still treated her as if she were a hotheaded thirteen-year-old, careening into danger without a thought as to consequences. Trixie hesitated to think about all the girls Jim must be meeting at college. Dating, perhaps, although he never spoke of it. Neither did any of the guys, except for Dan.
He, apparently, was going through the females in Manhattan like a hot knife through butter. They all seemed to love the dark-haired, handsome man with the streak of bad-boy showing through.
It wasn't as if Trixie didn't have the opportunity to date. She did. It was just that she didn't want to date Tad Webster or Nick Roberts or anyone else in Sleepyside Junior-Senior High School for that matter.
What was she? Crazy?
Trixie took a deep breath and opened the glass door with the familiar logo on front. And Sleepyside steps into the 1990s, she thought. Here goes nothin'!
A couple of hours later, she was standing back outside the shop, rather dazed. She had a job! And training was going to start tomorrow! She never expected that she would be hired on the spot. The interviewer was impressed with the pretty, perky seventeen-year-old. She was smart, energetic, and socially active within the community. Just the sort of person they wanted behind the counter.
Trixie was bursting with the news, and she just had to tell someone! She sprinted the block or so to her dad's bank, a smile wreathing her face. She pushed open the heavy door. "Hi, Mrs. Van Loon. Is my father free?"
The receptionist looked up with a smile. "Let me buzz him and see, Trixie." She pressed a button. "Mr. Belden? Your daughter is here to see you." She waved Trixie to his office as she hung up the phone. "He's free. Go right ahead back there."
Trixie burst into Peter Belden's office with her characteristic energy and enthusiasm. "Daddy! Guess what?"
Before he even had a chance to reply, Trixie rushed headlong into speech. "I got a job at the new coffee shop in town! I start tomorrow! Isn't that great?" She dashed around his desk, much as she had done when she was a little girl, throwing her arms around his neck.
"That's wonderful news, Princess! Congratulations!" Peter kissed her on the cheek with mixed feelings. It was fantastic she had scored a job, but yet it was just another sign his little girl was growing up and away from him.
"Mart told me I can use his car if I have to," she grinned. The counselors were not permitted personal vehicles at the camp where he and Brian were working.
"Well, it appears to me you have to." Trixie was a good driver. She could either use Mart's rather beat-up red Cobalt, or Peter and Helen could work it out between their two cars and Trixie. Come to think of it, it might be safer for Trixie to use one of the family cars. At least they were in good repair.
"Thanks, Daddy. I need to get back to Crabapple Farm. See you later!" Like a whirlwind, she was gone. He shook his head again and laughed. His Princess. There really was no-one else like her!
She sent a text message to all the other BWGs. It was exhilarating to get a job but she wished they were closer to share in her excitement. Especially Jim. Maybe he would notice she was growing up now. Trixie didn't hold her breath, though. She might forever be relegated to 'childhood friend' status and would just have to be happy with that.
Jim Frayne's cell phone vibrated in his pocket, but he didn't pull it out to look at it. As a senior counselor, he knew that personal cell phone use while working was frowned upon. It weighed on his mind though as he assisted the junior counselors with their charges. There was only one person that would message him during the day, and she was back home in Sleepyside.
Trixie.
The familiar acid began to churn in his stomach. She was bright and capable, and had settled down a tremendous amount from her days as a thirteen-year-old spitfire. But he still worried about her, especially now that she was alone. Honey was spending a lot of time in the New York apartment. Di was gone as well as all the male BWGs.
And Lord only knows what his special girl was getting up to nowadays. If Trixie could peer into his brain, she would be shocked to discover that he thought about her as much as she thought about him.
He fisted his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for the phone. He vowed silently that, once he got back home, he would finally make Trixie his girl. It was about time he declared himself, and only hoped that she was free to be his.
And that she wasn't involved in another mystery. He really didn't mind when they were all together, but Trixie on her own could be just a little… dangerous.
He was chagrined to find a smile slipping across his face. Oh yeah. He liked her that way.
Seriously liked her that way.
Jim stared out over the glittering lake, past the volleyball war between the reds and the blues. He was biding his time, waiting for Trixie. He knew they called him Mr. Honorable, but feelings for the curly-haired blonde in the hollow were anything but honorable. Or brotherly.
A small smile tilted his lips. He was sure glad that the Beldens didn't adopt him. He jolted out of his reverie by the voice of another counselor.
"What do you say, Jim? Did Marcellus spike the ball or what?"
Jim realized he had to turn his attention back to the game. With a sigh, he said evenly. "Do-over. Let's have a do-over," to the kids' unenthusiastic groans.
Later on, after dinner, he pulled out his cell phone. Got a job! Start tomorrow! Brewed Awakenings, that new chain! He smiled again at the phone, almost tenderly, and one of the women in the kitchen sighed. That handsome, redheaded counselor sure had the hots for somebody back home. She shook her head and laughed, hoping it was a girl.
Jim typed out a quick message. Happy for you Trix. Go get 'em! Although I may have to report you to the grammar police for exclamation point abuse! He sighed before he hit send, and decided to make a little stand. 3. There.
He wondered what she would think of that.
3?
What did that mean?
Trixie knew what it meant, but what did it mean in a text coming from Jim? Maybe he had her confused with someone else?
Or maybe he really meant it for you. After all, he did call you his special girl after the fiasco in Happy Valley. Trixie snorted. Yeah, and he gave me an ID bracelet with his name on it, a quick peck and then… nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
She slid off the window seat where the stars seemed to be that much brighter tonight, and sighed. It was gonna be a long, lonely summer.
The next couple of weeks were a whirlwind of training, getting the store ready, exercising the horses with Honey when she was home, and her chores around the farm. Peter and Helen discussed the car situation and came to a decision.
They surprised Trixie with a used Honda Civic. With his community contacts through the bank, Peter was able to pick it up for a song. It was older but it ran well. "We didn't give you anything for your birthday, Trixie," Moms explained. "You'll be responsible for the insurance and upkeep. Consider this a birthday and an early graduation present." It also didn't hurt the family finances. Trixie was the recipient of a full, four-year scholarship and it eased things considerably.
Trixie's china-blue eyes widened when she saw the metallic blue sedan in the driveway with a big bow on it. She threw her arms around her parents, crying that it was way, way too much. But in the end, she tearfully accepted the keys.
She had a car! Her very own car!
Jim wasn't quite worried. However, the texts and emails that came from Crabapple Farm were a little… disquieting. His special girl was having all these firsts without him being there. First real job; now first car. It bugged him she might not wait to have other firsts with him. After all, she was beautiful, fun and energetic. She had an insatiable curiosity and lit up the room wherever she was.
The summer days dragged by, and he really longed to be back home, tugging on her curl and staring into those flashing blue eyes with the matching impish grin.
Max LoCascio sat in the tiny manager's office in Brewed Awakenings. He hung up the phone after being congratulated on the best opening week ever. A large, white smile split his handsome face. He was a man going places in the little coffee company that was challenging the giants.
Max was twenty-two years old, and on top of the world right now. He'd worked for the company ever since they opened their first store in Cornell, New York. They were great believers in promoting from within, socially conscious and fair with their employees.
Not many companies could say the same nowadays.
Max reflected on their first week. He had a great group of baristas here. A few single mothers; college kids; a few high-schoolers. But his star performer was certainly that girl with the odd name.
Trixie. Sounded like she should be on The Honeymooners or plying her wares on 42nd Street in the City.
Whenever she was in the store, the whole place lit up like a Christmas tree. The other workers became brighter and sassier; and geez, the girl must know every single person that lived in town. She was an excellent barista, too; she had patience with people and never messed up those half-caf double decaffeinated espresso with one squirt of hazelnut and a sprinkle of mocha orders that were the bane of baristas everywhere.
Trixie even solved The Mystery of the Alarm. Almost every night, Max would be wakened by the police, saying the alarm in the store was triggered. Several searches by the police revealed absolutely nothing; he had even gone so far as to call the alarm company, thinking it was a malfunction.
Trixie was the one who noticed when closing one night, a small black and white cat slinked in with the last customer. She watched as the kitty made himself at home in a warm corner of the store, and figured out the cat was the one setting off the motion sensors. When the police and Max searched the store, he scooted back out, unseen.
Of course, the shop had to adopt him after that, and she was the one who came up with Catpuccino.
Max knew she was a little over seventeen, but that didn't stop him from being attracted to her. After all, he was only five years older than she was; hell, his dad was ten years older than his mom. He noted that sometimes a beautiful, patrician-looking girl would come into the shop and Trixie would leave with her. Honey… Honey Wheeler. Yes, of those Wheelers.
Sleepyside was not the sleepy little dead-end town he feared. There was a lot happening here; lots of interesting people, and one he especially wanted to get to know better. Trixie didn't appear to have a boyfriend, and he wondered about that.
Max also wondered what those soft, pink lips would taste like.
Honey and Trixie were both free on the same night for once. They were seated in Wimpy's, enjoying a shake, burger and fries. Next was the latest rom-com at the Cameo, a real girls' night out. Something they hadn't had in quite a while.
"So, Trix, how goes it at Brewed Awakenings? My dad swears by their coffee." Honey smiled across at her best friend. She couldn't wait for this summer to be over. The last few weeks all the guys and Diana would be home. She truly missed everyone.
Trixie cupped her chin as she leaned her elbow on the table. "Busy, busy, busy, busy! I think everyone in Sleepyside has developed a serious coffee addiction!"
"Well, the coffee is to die for!"
"I've missed everyone this summer, Honey." In one of her lightning changes of mood, Trixie looked troubled. "With our jobs, and Diana gone, we hardly spend any time together at all."
Honey frowned as she sipped her shake. "Yeah. I know what you mean. Regan has been complaining no-one is riding the horses, and we do ride when we can. I miss the guys so much." One in particular, but she didn't bother to tell his sister that. She didn't have to. They were both in the same situation.
"Working with my dad is good business experience for when we open the agency, but the nine-to-five corporate world is not for me." She shuddered delicately. "And in my father's case, more like six am to midnight."
Trixie giggled at Honey's woebegone face. "Well, how else is Wheeler/Hart International LLC going to challenge Walmart for world domination?" She arched her sandy brows, and both girls collapsed in giggles.
Mike looked up from the counter with a smile. He missed that, this summer. All seven of them coming in, laughing and talking. He knew Trixie was working at the coffee shop, but honestly, the diner wasn't open that early in the morning nor was he seeing a significant drop in business. All the kids still came here, and no-one could compare his juicy burgers with an almond biscotti.
"I missed this, Trix. Missed you. So, tell me all about the beautiful Max. I heard some women at the train station swooning over him." Honey touched a napkin to her streaming eyes.
"Ah, Max." Trixie shrugged. "I guess, he's okay, if you like the tall, dark, devastatingly handsome Italian look."
"Oh, I do," Honey confessed, thinking one of tall, dark man working upstate.
"Well, I know that, silly. He is a good boss. He always tries to work around everyone's schedules. If one of the moms who works there has a day-care issue or the child is sick, Max always finds a way to accommodate them."
"I noticed he always seems to be around you," Honey teased. She worried about it, just a little. Max was years older than Trixie, a college graduate. Trixie's conversation, once peppered with 'Jim said this' or 'Jim said that' was now filled with what Max said.
Trixie rolled her eyes. "He's always around everybody. He doesn't spend a lot of time back in the office. He's out there in the trenches."
Honey wisely kept her counsel. Trixie would never believer her, not in a million years.
Honey wasn't the only one noticing Trixie was talking an awful lot about Max. Jim was noticing, too. For the first time since he met a pair of bluer-than-blue eyes in his uncle's mansion, he kind of understood where Trixie was coming from when she felt insecure about his friendly feelings toward Dot Murray and Laura Ramsay. He pooh-poohed her concerns then, waving her little bouts of jealousy away as unfounded.
Now it was Trixie admiring some other guy; Trixie talking about how accomplished he was; Trixie spending time with him. Without Jim.
And he was jealous. Oh yeah, the old green-eyed monster bit into him with long, curving fangs that he just could not shake loose. The guy was way older than Trixie. (She's seventeen you're almost nineteen and he's barely twenty-two. Not that much difference, James.)
Jim lay back on his uncomfortable cot. They just didn't make them for 6'4" husky guys. He stared at the darkened ceiling, hearing the giggles emanating from the open windows of the other cabins. I'll have to get on the junior counselors about that and what if this Max guy is taking advantage of my special girl?
He tormented himself with images of the curly-headed blonde in the arms of some faceless, nebulous guy. Kissing him. Allowing him to tug on her curls, touch her succulent flesh. Jim groaned and rolled over. At this point, he'd never get any sleep.
Why, oh, why did I have to go and work upstate? I could have stayed right there in Sleepyside and worked with dad, or got a job at the day camps the Sleepyside Recreation Program ran during the summer. But noooooo, I had to leave her all alone. Trixie wasn't a young, naïve little girl any longer.
She was seventeen and ripe, and he should be the one enjoying all those firsts with her. He surely waited long enough.
Sighing again, he shut his eyes and tried to sleep.
It was a half hour before Brewed Awakenings opened, and Trixie had the early morning shift. After she and Missy got the store in order, she sat at one of the cute café tables with a bracing cup of coffee.
Max came out of the back and slid the tray of croissants into the bakery goods case, and decided he needed a little break, too. "Hey, Trix," he greeted her warmly as he slid into the other seat. "Why so pensive?"
She was just staring into her cup, her mind a jumble of disconnected thoughts. She missed the others; she really missed Jim; she wondered if it would be busy today and she had an idea for the store. She looked up into Max's ice-blue eyes, so unusual with his dark hair and brows, and smiled.
"Oh, just thoughts about how the summer is slipping away. Pretty soon I'll be back at school, slaving over my senior year." She paused. "I have sort of an idea for a fundraiser for the store, if you want to hear it," she added shyly.
"I'm all ears."
"Fourth of July is coming soon. I know you aren't from here. The town usually has a big, all-day event. Rides, music, games, food vendors. It all culminates with a huge fireworks show at night. It's a real family event."
"Sounds like fun. But we're only open to six on the fourth," he reminded her.
"I know. But I thought since almost everyone's in town anyway, we could hold a fundraiser for the art and music departments of Sleepyside High."
She rushed on. "You know, one of those things where a portion of every purchase is donated to the programs at the schools. Those type of programs are getting harder and harder to fund. We can print up flyers and…"
Max held up a hand, laughing, to stem the flood of words. He was riveted by the way her long curls bounced around her pretty face catching the light; the sparkle in those sapphire eyes, and the energy and enthusiasm she radiated. "Whoa, there, Trixie. A fundraiser for Sleepyside High, hmmm?" He thought a few moments.
It was a good idea. He'd have to clear it with Corporate, of course, but the chain had done similar fundraisers in the past for local schools, hospitals and various charities. "10% of each purchase," he murmured. "That's a great idea, Trixie. We should have a lot of foot traffic that day. I'll clear it with Corporate."
"I have an artist friend who can whip up the design for the flyers if you want. I'm sure he'd do it for free!" Nick Roberts would only be too happy to help.
"That would be fantastic, Trix. I'm going to send a fax over to the main office right now. We should have an answer in a few hours. You really are something else." His ice-blue eyes were filled with warmth.
Trixie blushed to the roots of her hair. "Nah, just somebody who cares," she disagreed. But his words buoyed her spirits and made the rest of the day fly by, especially when they got the go-ahead from Corporate.
Nick Roberts stopped by when Trixie was getting off of work, half-hoping she'd ask him out after receiving her text. "Hey, Trix. I'm here." He slid into an unoccupied table to wait until her shift ended.
"Hey, Nick. Be right there." She flashed a quick smile at him, and he felt the power of it right down to his toes. But he didn't get his hopes up. Trixie and Jim were circling each other for years. And being a male, he had the distinct feeling that Mr. Frayne was biding his time until Trixie turned legal.
Trixie was waiting for Jim. Just about everyone knew it, except the pretty lady in question.
She sank into the chair across from him, her china-blue eyes sparkling with the joy she found in everyday life and just a glint of mischief. He searched them, looking for something he did not find, and gave a tiny, inward sigh.
"Gleeps, Nick! I'm glad to sit down. It was so busy today!" He smiled at her, doubting the veracity of that statement. She was almost vibrating with energy. If only he could bottle it, he'd give Red Bull a run for their money.
"Yeah, this place sure became popular in just a short while. What can I do for you, Trixie?"
She bit her lower lip, before launching into excited conversation, complete with waving hands and that devastating smile. "Well, you might not know that the parent corporation of Brewed Awakenings is very socially conscious. They encourage the various stores to get involved in the local community. I had an idea for a fundraiser, and it was accepted!"
Nick leaned forward, and cupped his chin. "Congratulations! What kind of fundraiser?"
"We're open until six on the Fourth of July. Ten percent of each item sold will be donated to Sleepyside Junior-Senior High's art and music departments, to be used at their discretion! I was wondering if you can design a flyer we can get printed up to let people know. You know the art and music department lost a lot of funding last year," she added, frowning.
"That's a wonderful idea, Trixie," Nick's voice was warm. "We did lose a lot of funding. It seems the powers-that-be are more interested in making sure the test scores are high, not in letting kids become well-rounded adults. I'd be happy to design the fliers. I'll even get my dad to print them up for you, free." His artistic, creative mind was already busy with numerous ideas. "Let me sketch a few things out and I'll bring them to you, oh, tomorrow or the next day."
"You'll have to get Max's approval," she said. "He's the general manager here. A real nice guy, too."
"Okay, just let him know I'll be by in the next day or two." His fingers were itching to grab a pencil. "Thanks, Trixie." He wondered if Jane Morgan would like to collaborate. She certainly had a way with words.
Trixie surprised him by giving him a tiny peck on the cheek, causing a dark olive blush to stain his cheeks. "Thanks, Nick, for being such a sport about it."
Max came out of the back, just then. He saw Trixie go up on tiptoes and kiss a dark, handsome man's cheek, and felt a large pit open up in the vicinity of his stomach. Was this her boyfriend?
He watched as Nick left and Trixie turned around, fishing out her car keys. "Oh. Hi, Max. You just missed meeting Nick. He's a wonderful artist and a great friend. He agreed to do the flyers for the fundraiser. He's gonna bring by sketches in the next day or two." Her words came out in a rush as the searched Max's face.
He had the most peculiar expression that lightened and brightened with her speech. So it wasn't a boyfriend-slash-girlfriend thing.
"Sorry I missed him," Max grinned.
"Well, I'm off shift. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye, Missy! Bye, Jonas!" With a pat on the head for Catpuccino, Trixie was out of the door before anyone had a chance to reply.
Jim had a half-day off between sessions. Not that there was anything much to do up there in the wilderness. But it was nice not to have to referee and herd kids and inexperienced junior counselors. He went to sit in his Jeep, where he had some privacy, and called his sister.
"Hey, Honey," he greeted her.
"Jim! Oh my God, it's so lovely to hear your voice instead of texting and emailing. How's camp this year?" Honey couldn't believe how much she missed her full-blooded adopted brother. She usually had Trixie and Diana to keep her occupied, but this year was particularly difficult.
He sighed. "This is my last year doing this." His voice was firm. "All the administration and running around… and I miss everyone. Sleepyside is home, and I need to be there." He didn't mention the person he missed most of all, but Honey wasn't a dummy. She knew how to read between the lines.
"Have you spoken to Trixie lately? You know she's working a lot at the new coffee shop in town."
"Just texts and emails. How is she doing?" The unspoken question was there. And is she doing anyone?
"She's the star of the show. You know our Trix," Honey laughed. "I think her boss thinks the sun rises and sets in her."
Jim feigned innocence. "Oh, that Max guy she mentions every once in a while? He probably appreciates all the help a young, energetic girl can give him." Yup. That was definitely it. Probably some paunchy, middle-aged guy.
"Ummm. Jim? I hate to burst your little bubble, but Max is a hot, young Italian stud who apparently has a not-so-secret crush on Trixie. He's only a few years older than you."
The acid began to churn in Jim's stomach. "How do you know that?" His long fingers, so strong but gentle, were clenched around the cell phone.
"I was talking to a couple of the others that work in the store and I do go in there occasionally, you know. He's almost always around her. And," she whispered as if imparting a state secret. "And he looks at her all moony-like."
Jim uttered an expletive that shocked Honey. "Why, Jim! I have never, ever heard you say that word before."
Jim blushed hotly, and offered a weak apology. "Sorry, sis. Uh, how… how does Trixie feel about all this?" Geez, he had it bad. But he didn't care how pathetic he sounded. He wanted, no needed, to know how Trixie felt about her smarmy older boss.
Honey trilled out a soft laugh. "Jim. This is Trixie we're talking about. I don't think she notices at all. You know she's still stuck on that short, sturdy image she had of herself. Even if half the guys at school would simply die to take her out."
Jim expelled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Ah…. How are you, Honey? Is Dad working you hard enough?" He revealed enough about his feelings; now to change the subject.
They spoke for a few more minutes, commiserating with each other over the loss of childhood freedom. As soon as they hung up with a "Love you!" he hit the speed dial for Trixie's cell phone. He needed to hear her voice.
TMWBITW. It popped up on her phone. Oh, she could have entered the more prosaic Jim. He would always be the most wonderful boy in the world to her, even when they were ninety years old.
"Hi, Jim!" Happiness washed over her, rang out in her voice.
Jim just could not contain his speech. What was supposed to come out was a simple hi to his special girl. The moment he heard her sexy/raspy voice, all rational thought deserted his logical brain. "Trixie, baby."
She pulled the phone away from her ear, unsure that she had heard correctly. "I'm so glad you called. I've missed you, and uh, all the others."
"I've missed you, too." He settled down in the car seat. "How's everything at Crabapple Farm? How's the job going?" Are you dating your boss? Anyone else? Won't you please wait for me?
She laughed. "Oh, the farm is the farm. Bobby is enrolled at day camp this year, so he's out of Moms' hair for the most part. I'm sure he, Larry and Terry are terrorizing the counselors. Work is great! I love my job, and we're running a fundraiser for the art and music departments at the high school. Max got the clearance from Corporate, and Nick is doing the flyers for free." She ran out of breath.
"That's, that's wonderful, Trixie." His voice was even but inside he was groaning. Max again. And Nick Roberts. He knew the artist had a little crush on her. Great. Just great.
"How's everything at camp, Jim?"
"Uh, it's okay." He expelled a breath. "I don't think I am going to work upstate next summer." Jim did not mean to blurt that out. What was wrong with his runaway mouth?
Trixie was again surprised by Jim's words, and just a little bit thrilled. "Why not, Jim? I thought you were doing this in preparation for opening your school someday."
Jim drummed the fingers of his free hand on this muscular thigh. "Yeah, well, I thought so, too. But I'm finding I need to get back home, to be with all of you." Especially you, Trix.
"I know what you mean. This summer seems so long, when before they flew away in an eye blink. I hardly ever see Honey because she stays a lot in the City and of course Di is in Arizona. I did make some new friends at the shop, and a bunch of us are going to the Elysium in White Plains next Friday night to see a midnight showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show. It sounds like fun. Max is trying to get me to dress up as Janet. But I don't think I'd like to go to the movies in a bra and slip!" She Googled images of the movie and was a bit shocked at some of the stills.
Jim immediately pictured his Trixie as Janet. He was well aware of the killer curves she developed, and his blood pressure began to rise. Oh yeah. He'd love to see her dress up as Janet, too, but only for a private screening of the movie.
A private screening that consisted of just the two of them, and they wouldn't be paying any attention at all to the action unfolding on the screen.
There was no way in hell that Max should see her like that. No way at all. "I agree with you, Trix. If you want to dress up as Janet, why not a cute dress like she wore in the beginning of the movie and a sweater or something?" Preferably a burqa that covered her from head to foot, with only those amazing eyes showing.
"Why, Jim? Don't you think I'd look good in a bra and slip?" she demanded, contrary.
Crap. Now what to say? "You'd look great in anything, baby, but I know how uncomfortable you would feel."
There it was again. Baby. "You're right, Jim," she conceded. "It's much different when we're at the lake swimming and horsing around, even if a bikini is like a bra."
"Uhhhh." She was wearing a bikini at the lake now? And he wasn't home to see her in all her glory? On second thought, maybe it was better he wasn't there.
His impulses were not at all honorable. Not one iota.
"Well, have a great time. Who all is going?"
"Me. Max of course, Lindsay McGregor, Jon Waters, Didi Connor and Mike Lewis and Gunnar from school. One of the other women might join us too, but it depends if she can get a sitter."
"Trix, I…" he never finished what he was going to say. The bell started ringing, calling all the counselors back to the main building… which meant the arrival of the next group of kids was imminent. "I have to go," he ended lamely.
"So soon?" she lamented. "Okay, well then… bye, Jim. Talk to you soon."
"Bye, Trixie, baby." There was so much more he wanted to say, but things like that would have to wait until August. When he could look into those fabulous eyes of hers and lay out everything.
If she didn't elope with that cradle-snatcher. That dark little voice clawed at his lacerated feelings.
He resolutely shut it down, jumped out of the car, pasting on a smile and trying for an attitude adjustment. The kids deserved nothing less.
Baby. Trixie baby. Jim's deep voice and those words kept rolling around in her head all day. For the first time, she was quite distracted at work, and even Max remarked she didn't seem like her usual bright self. Was something wrong?
She assured him nothing was amiss, but noticed he kept giving her concerned looks all day long. She couldn't wait to escape home and away from prying eyes. Trixie wanted to turn over those words again and again.
Moms noticed she was pushing around the food on her plate while Bobby was inhaling his. "Trixie, honey, aren't you hungry? You're not getting sick or anything, are you?" She stood and in the time-honored tradition of moms everywhere, laid her cool hand on her daughter's brow.
"You aren't taking on too much at your job, are you?" Peter knew Trixie's propensity for taking on far too much responsibility and getting overly involved in activities.
"I'm okay, honest." Trixie rolled her eyes. "I'm just not too hungry today, Moms."
Helen sat back down. "Your forehead is cool. Trixie, I hope you're not filling up with coffee and junk food at the shop. That's not good for you."
"No, I'm not Moms. I guess I'm just having an off day. Is it okay if I am excused?" It was Bobby's turn to do the dishes, such as they were. With only the four of them home, and sometimes only three when Trixie had a late shift, Helen had taken to using paper plates and plastic cutlery.
Brian and Mart would be shocked. They would be even more shocked to learn that their dad recently ordered a state-of-the-art dishwasher for their pretty mother. It was about time Crabapple Farm began to modernize a little.
Moms nodded her agreement and Trixie tore off to her bedroom. "Do we need to be concerned?" Peter raised his eyebrows.
"I don't think so," Helen smiled back with a sidelong glance at Bobby. "Just growing pains, I think." She gave her husband a look that promised a more thorough discussion later, when little ears weren't eavesdropping.
Trixie sat on the window seat in her bedroom, staring up the hill at the barely visible lights of Manor House. Honey was in New York City with her parents, and the only people in residence were Regan, Miss Trask, Celia and Tom. She really missed her best friend and her… what? What exactly was Jim Frayne to her? And what exactly did he mean by calling her baby today?
Her hand went to a blonde curl, his curl. The one he always tugged with that special light in his eyes. She wanted to believe that intense look was reserved just for her. She saw Brian giving Honey the same look at times; Mart always looked at Diana as if she was his favorite dessert.
What was with Jim and Brian, anyway? They never spoke of going out with girls at college. Mostly, they either studied or talked about going places with a group of friends, much like she was doing now. Besides, neither she nor Honey wanted to hear of any conquests they made with girls their own age.
It really sucked to be younger sometimes.
At least Mart manned up and finally asked Diana out the moment she turned fifteen. They were together ever since, and Trixie had to tamp down feelings of jealousy. She slid off the comfortable cushions and padded over to her small jewelry box, taking out the shiny, dainty bracelet with JIM in fancy script on the tablet.
His special girl. Was she still his special girl? She ran a slender finger over the engraving, and placed it back in the cranberry-colored velvet. Her hand went automatically to the locket she wore every day, the one with his picture secreted within.
Trixie, baby. It echoed in her head. 3 at the end of every text and email. She saw the heart dancing before her eyes.
Was Jim trying to tell her something, or was she just reading too much into his words and a simple sign-off? Her best detective-ing instincts were failing her now.
As if they ever served her well where Jim was concerned.
The week marched toward Friday, and that meant Friday night. Although he was busy, Jim couldn't stop his thoughts from turning towards the hot blonde in the hollow. Friday night, midnight. A darkened movie theatre showing a campy cult classic.
His girl in a bra and slip. Jim knew she said she wasn't going to wear that, but his active imagination went there anyway. She'd jump in with enthusiasm her eyes sparkling and he could hear her throaty laugh.
Damn.
They were going to have to cart him off to the asylum. Yup. Men in little white coats would take him away.
He considered calling Max and warning him away, but logic prevailed. What good would that do? He had no proof the older man had a romantic interest in Trixie. Just a gut feeling. Plus, he told himself, he was sure Trixie's parents would be aghast at someone so much older trying to date their Princess.
Hell, Peter Belden made sure he took Jim aside after the whole bracelet thing and gently let him know they both considered their daughter way too young for dating. They had lots of time to pursue a relationship when Trixie was older, if they decided to do so.
Well, now he decided to do so.
When Friday finally came, Jim was sitting in the mess hall with the other senior counselors and adult supervisors. One of them looked down at Jim's raw hands, and saw the knuckles were red and scraped, almost bruised.
"What happed to your hands, Frayne?" he joked. "Hit a tree?"
Jim gave him an icy green, level look. "No. Worked out in the gym this morning." He flexed his hands, and the subject was dropped.
Something was bothering Jim Frayne enough for him to whale on the punching bag hard enough to cut his knuckles, and by Jim's closed expression, he did not want to discuss it.
Trixie stared at herself in her mirror. After digging awhile in the attic, she unearthed a shirtwaist dress in blush pink. It had white buttons down front and short sleeves. In another trunk was a thin white cardigan with a pearl chain clip at the neckline. She discovered a vintage straw hat with a bunch of daisies on one side. Moms supplied her with white gloves.
She giggled at the picture she presented. The dress was a bit snug across the chest area, but otherwise looked great. She walked carefully downstairs, showing off to her mother and father, who were waiting in the living room.
"You look like the pictures I saw of my mother when she was young," Helen smiled.
"Someone is picking you up, right, Trix? I don't want you driving all the way to White Plains by yourself." Peter, for once, wished Jim was there.
"Yes, Daddy. Max is picking me up and Lindsay and Mike, I think. I know we'll have so much fun!"
"Right home after the movie," Peter grumped. He didn't like this, a midnight showing in another town, with people he didn't know.
"I promise." In truth, she really wished she was going with the BWGs. She opened her mouth to say so, but there was a knock at the front door. Helen returned with Max, in full Brad-nerd regalia. Both the Beldens laughed and took a picture.
"Remember young lady," Peter warned, in front of Max. "Home directly after the movie."
Trixie rolled her eyes again. "I remember, Daddy!" Gleeps! He didn't have to embarrass her in front of her boss and all! Helen followed them to the door and watched as they drove away. Her Moms senses were going off, big time.
It couldn't be, could it? Max was older than Trixie, by at least five years. But the way he looked at her… no, it simply couldn't be. In a move reminiscent of her daughter, Helen began to chew her lower lip. I wish Jim was home. I wish they were all home.
"C'mon, Mrs. Belden, our bed awaits." Peter was tired after a long day at work, but he was only fooling himself, He knew he wouldn't get a lick of sleep until he heard Trixie come in.
She nodded at her husband but didn't voice the thoughts that startled her. She had a sneaking suspicion if she did, her husband would be out chasing down Max and pull Trixie out of the car.
And boy, would their daughter be angry.
Trixie was taken aback when Max helped her into his SUV. His empty SUV.
"I thought Lindsay and Mike were coming, too." She glanced around the empty back seat as if she expected them to be hiding back there.
"Mike decided to take his own car, and Lindsay is going with him," Max explained as he started the car. He glanced over at her pretty profile. She looked… delectable. Young and innocent, just like Janet was in the beginning of the movie.
"Oh. That's nice." However, she moved a little closer to the door. He was dressed as Brad and she as Janet, and… it almost seemed like they were a couple. But he was her boss, and she didn't like him in that way.
Oh, be serious, Trix! He's a college graduate and you're just in high school! Max is just a nice guy giving you a ride to the movie. Like he'd really be interested in you.
"Your friends Nick and Janet did a great job on the flyers," Max told her. "They're up all over town!"
Ok. Safe subject. "Yes, they did. I think we're going to have an amazing Fourth." July was just about her favorite month. Jim's birthday and the anniversary of when they met. For a moment she was back in that decrepit mansion, sapphire meeting emerald.
In that one instant, her whole world had changed.
"… Corporate and they are going to contact him directly." She was back in the car and missed whatever Max had been saying.
She blushed to the roots of her yellow hair. "I'm sorry, Max, I was woolgathering for a second. What were you saying?"
"I was just saying that Corporate was very impressed with Nick. They want to contact him directly to discuss the possibility of him doing other work for the company."
"Oh, he'd love that! He really is a talented artist."
"I'd have to agree." He smiled, thinking how utterly adorable she was, but still wishing she was in that bra and slip. "Is this your first time seeing Rocky Horror?"
Trixie relaxed a little more. "Yes. My older brothers and our friends Jim and Dan went last year. They said it was a hoot. They didn't dress up, though."
She didn't have any trouble imagining Jim in a nice pair of boxers, with all those lovely muscles exposed.
Yum.
Trixie and Max talked all the way to White Plains about ordinary things, work and school. She began to laugh at herself, thinking Max could ever see her as anything more than a co-worker and friend. Soon, they were joining the others outside the theatre. Everyone was dressed up, some hilariously so, and Max dragged out a shopping bag full to the brim.
"What's that for?" Trixie asked as they were entering the theatre. "Did you bring snacks?"
Max just smiled. "You'll see."
Jim stared at his glow-in-the-dark watch again. Midnight. The witching hour. The selfsame hour where, right now in White Plains, Trixie was meeting up with a bunch of co-workers to watch a campy, fun, cult classic.
And of course, Max would be there. Her boss.
The man who looked at her all moony-like.
Damn it.
He punched his pillow and flipped over again. The cot hadn't gotten any more comfortable. His knuckles still hurt from the beating he was giving the bag in the gym. His imagination was working overtime, picturing his special girl… yes his, and no-one else's, with another man. Maybe holding hands. Laughing together.
Maybe Max would look into those deep blue, sparkling eyes and lean over to taste those luscious lips. Run his hands through her curls. Tug on one, the one that belonged to him.
He sat up abruptly, burying his face in his hands He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn't get a grip. The only thing that was keeping him sane right now, keeping him from just jumping in his car and driving all the way home, was the knowledge that she wasn't alone with Max.
Because if she was, it just would not bode well for Max's continued good health.