Page 1 of Misadventures With My Fake Fiancé

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Summer vacation.No two words held more allure for kids; what they dreamed about all school year long. To me, they were equally potent, equally daydream-worthy in the dead of winter when those long summer days are months and months away. No, I'm not thirteen. In fact, I'm twenty-nine. I'm Violet Miller and I'm a school teacher. A first-grade teacher, to be exact. So when that final school bell of the year rang last week and kids ran screaming out the doors of Crestview Elementary eager to ride their bikes, swim, camp and all the other possibilities of the ten weeks of summer break, I was about five minutes behind them.

Unfortunately, I wouldn’t be manning a lemonade stand or zipping down the water slide at the city pool. Instead, I’ll spend my days working at Goldilocks, Bozeman's only ‘adult’ toy store. I have to squeeze in my fly fishing, hiking and camping on my days off. At least until my sister, Veronica, gets back from her cross-country road trip.

“No, honey, you can't mix the flavored in with the glow-in-the-dark ones,” Goldie West told me as I restocked boxes of specialty condoms. Goldie had opened the store eons ago andhad catered to every unusual, and some very kinky, whims ever since. Both she and the store were Bozeman icons. Infamous and quirky.

Goldie was like the Tasmanian Devil, all fluffy hair, long nails with the ability to wreak havoc on anyone in her path. Today, her nails sported a cotton candy pink and her blonde hair was teased up like a Southern pageant queen’s. She wore a T-shirt with a red-sequined heart in the center, black Capri pants and black clogs. For a woman in her early seventies, she looked pretty darn good, although I wasn't sure if all that hair spray was safe for her health.

She had a mind like a vault. Not only did she know everyone in town—their brothers, cousins, wives, dentists—she remembered everything about them since time began. Nothing slipped by her or her Rolodex for a brain. Because of this unique and often annoying ability, I tried to keep as low a profile as I could around her. Goldie knew everything about Veronica, because she's been a faithful employee since college, but being her identical twin didn't mean I was fair game. I didn’t want Goldie to know what I was up to, not that I was up to much of anything this summer.

“Whoops, sorry,” I replied, looking closer at the packages and rearranging them into their appropriate shelf space. It was my first time in the condom section as I was just filling in for Veronica on a short-term basis. She was enjoying Florida and all its steamy summer weather with her boyfriend Jack Reid, packing up his belongings and driving back across the country. Since we lived in Montana, a few time zones away, they were going to be gone a few weeks.

“Did you try out some of the things I put in that box for you?” Goldie stood at the counter pulling red lace thongs from a brown shipping envelope. To the average person, a conversation about a box from a friend might revolve around hand-me-down clothesor even homemade cookies. To Goldie, it involved a sampling of Goldilocks' wares: nipple clamps, a vibrator, a sampling of lubes, scented lotions and other things I still couldn't exactly name. “I hope the Goldilocks Training Program has helped.”

With what? My personally-delivered orgasms or learning the ins-and-outs of a sex store? Nipple clamps weren't a solo thing, and if I told her I'd taken the vibrator for a test drive, she'd pull that little nugget of information out when I least expected it. She was fishing here and it wasn't for trout.

I tried some of my yoga deep breathing to keep from mangling the condom box in my grasp. Goldilocks’ Training consisted of watching ten pre-selected Triple X-rated videos, sampling a variety of sex toys, thus the take-home box, as well as taking a field trip to the nearest BDSM club, which was halfway to Butte. All had to be completed within the first month of employment. “Um, yeah,” I replied, hoping to sound non-committal. Since I was only subbing for only a few weeks, I was hoping I didn't have to fulfill all of the requirements. I didn't know anyone I could call who would want to venture to a club devoted to varying kinky lifestyles. I had no doubt Goldie would volunteer, but that was a girls' night out I never wanted to consider.

“It's like working at the kitchen supply store in the mall. If you're going to sell the product, you've got to test it out first. My employees need to be the experts in the field because people are counting on us.” She had neat little piles going of various sized lingerie on the counter.

Goldie talked as if we were testing fire trucks or life jackets, and a person's safety and well-being were held in the balance. In fact, I'd spent the past three evenings watchingBig Boobs III,Junk In The TrunkandRump Pumping. It was still up in the air whether all that porn was going to give me the expertise I neededto work at Goldie's, or prepare me for a backup career as an adult film star.

Sadly, watching those movies was the closest thing I'd had to sex in a long time. My sex life was practically nonexistent. Unless you counted the vibrator test run from Goldie's box. There was more in that package than I could handle. At least alone. She'd provided everything for my sexual pleasure and then some. Everything except a man.

“Right. Kitchen supplies.” I finished the glow-in-the-dark and moved on to piña colada flavored. “Although I'm not sure if this is the same thing as cooking.”

Goldie waggled her eyebrows, her poufy hair going up an inch. “But it can get just as hot.”

I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

“Like your story.” She pointed her finger at me again, changing the subject. “Hoo wee, that last chapter made me menopausal all over again. Talk about hot flashes.”

I had to shake my head as she began to wave a piece of lingerie in front of her face. Trust Goldie to consider a tiny black garter the perfect instrument to cool off her overheated imagination.

“Good,” I told her, shelving with more oomph than necessary. “You drove me bonkers for two months to finish that stupid book. And I wasn't even working here!”

Secretly, I was pleased. To have Goldie, Queen of Steamy Scenes, like what I’d written and get all hot-and-bothered over it made me feel good. First grade gold star for me. I'd spent many a late night working on the story, crafting it, putting my heart and soul into it, but I wouldn't share that. My secret, to be an erotic romance novelist, had been mine for...well, forever. And it was going to stay that way—a secret.

“It took you long enough.” She set the scrap of lace down on the glass counter. “And it's not stupid. It's H-O-T, hot.”

“It's word porn,” I told her, sharing my personal phrase for my illicit writing. Goldie had made Veronica start one, but let her off the hook when she'd fallen in love with Jack Reid. As Veronica had a real, live, sexy guy of her own, she didn't need to have a fictional one found in a romance novel.

Seeing my single status as her next mission in life, Goldie had pounced. And wrangled, cajoled, harassed me until I wrote a steamy, erotic romance. I'd faked most of the grown-up whining, not wanting to let Goldie know I longed for an excuse to write my word porn. Writing a sexy book under the excuse thatGoldie made me do itkept my secret from getting out. Everyone in town had been forced to do something Goldie made them do at some point in their life. Besides, I figured if I wrote the scorcher I'd longed to write, to write the words that I'd kept inside, even Goldie would be shocked and lay off pestering me. But no. It only made her eagerness to read it to the very end even worse. I'd finished writing over Memorial Day weekend, a perfect procrastination for my class's report cards.

“Word porn, that's good. It's sure something, all right,” Goldie said with a chuckle, and then moved across the room to hang the lingerie. “Heard from your sister?”

“No, but that means everything's fine.”

Goldie nodded her head in agreement. We both seemed to be of the same mind that 'No news is good news.'

“She's not still mad at you, is she?”

“No. Unconditional love has made her mushy.”

It might have made Veronica mushy, but it made me feel a teensy bit guilty. Ever since the incident last winter with Veronica and the stalker, I'd felt inclined to fill in for her as needed so she could spend time with Jack. It hadn't been my fault the principal's wife was a little crazy and went bonkers when he'd tried to surprise her by having ski lessons. I was the innocent ski instructor in the whole house-burning fiasco.

Timing hadn't been on my side because Jack Reid, Veronica's high school crush, had come back to town. Sure, back in high school I'd told my sister Jack wanted to go out with me instead of her. Not that I'd wanted him; I'd had my eye on someone else entirely. I’d just been mad at Veronica, which was a frequent occurrence. We’d been eighteen and she'd taken my favorite blouse, the blouse I'd done extra babysitting to save up for, and spilled catsup all down the front and ruined it. Before I'd had a chance to even wear it.

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