Whetted Appetites by Anastacia Kelley Page A

words.  Not very lady-like.”  He pointed a finger at her as if she were an unruly child in need of discipline.
         Victoria marched over to the door and opened it wide.  “Well, here’s a little something more un-lady-like:  Get the HELL out!”
         Travis was fuming as he marched to the door, giving her a foreboding leer.  “This is not over.”  He stepped outside her door.
         “Yes it is,” was all Victoria said before slamming the door in his face, hoping she hit his snobby, holier-than-thou nose.
         Victoria walked shakily to the couch.  Her adrenaline was pumping madly through her veins.  Her heart was beating erratically.
         Where did he get off?  He had some gall coming in here like he owned the world.  Like he owned her !
         She got the suspicion that he didn’t get turned down or confronted often.  Or not at all.  Until now.  Did he actually think he could get everything and anything he wanted when he wanted it?  Just because he had money?  And when he didn’t get his way, he sulked like a baby and then went berserk.
         “’This isn’t over’,” he had threatened.  What did he mean by that anyway?  That he wasn’t going to take no for an answer?  Did he thrive on being rejected by her again?  And again?  Did he get off on an impossible challenge?
         Victoria shook her head as if trying to clear it of Travis.  Well, she shrugged; her morning was shot straight to hell.
        She trudged into the kitchen to make herself a strong, much needed cup of coffee.  And after lacing her veins with caffeine, she’d get a hot shower.
         She figured she had an hour or two before her mother called, either wondering how the date went or why she blew Travis off.  She’d bet on the latter.  Travis would inform her mother about how plebeian she had acted, according to him.  He’d pretend to be distraught over it all, too.  She’d bet her week’s salary on it.  True, she didn’t know him well, but she’d bet her savings that that was exactly what he would do.  He’d use a calm voice and hoity-toity words to make himself feel better.
         Why was it that a fair number of men in Travis’ position needed to have their bottoms pampered?  She wasn’t looking to be their mother.  The umbilical cord should have been cut right out of high school.  
         She didn’t dread a call from her mother this time, she thought as she plugged up her percolator.  She was looking forward to it.
     
         Melissa was already at the bakery when Victoria drove up.  It was a dreary Monday morning.  The clouds, threatening to burst at any minute, had cast a dark covering over the town.  The skies looked a lot like Victoria felt.  Miserable.
         Victoria walked into the store thirty minutes before opening.
         Melissa took one look at her and knew something was wrong.  Victoria always came in before she did.  She followed Victoria into the office.  She sat down on one of the chairs. 
         “Okay.  What’s wrong?”  Melissa’s eyes clouded over in concern.  She narrowed her gaze.  “Did Dalton do or say something to upset you?”
         Victoria sat down before answering, “Oh, no.  Dalton’s great.  I imagine I will be hearing from my mother soon.”  The somber look on her face held no question on what the conversation would be about.
         Melissa gave her a knowing nod.  “Ah, that explains it.  What happened?”
         Victoria leaned back and propped her ankles on her desk.  “You know about that call I received from Travis Duncan, right?”  Melissa nodded.  “He came by ready to take me out to brunch.  You see, I never agreed to go.  My nosy mother set this up behind my back and told Travis that I gave the affirmative for him to pick me up on Sunday.  I explained all that to him in the nicest way possible and he didn’t take it well.  In fact, he went all psycho