Nine months ago, I wrote “Happy Birthday Victor Sandberg” for a Sweet Romance Anthology. Because of the word limit, I was only able to share Mayra’s side of the story. Well, I have regained the rights to the story and am adding three to four chapters to include Victor’s point of view. Here is a ROUGH version of one of those chapters.
Faster than fire could spread through the prairie on a windy summer day, an inferno of jealousy soared through Victor. What was John thinking? What was Mayra thinking?
Every nerve in his body triggered, ready to snatch Mayra away from John’s side.
It was all instinct. Which didn’t make sense. Mayra was Victor’s friend, the little sister given by circumstance. She knew him better than he knew himself. Which is what made her strong reaction to his joke that much more confusing.
It was their thing. He’d pick on her a little. Sometimes she gave as good as what she got. When her feathers ruffled a little, he’d say something nice to assure her that she had a special place in his heart.
If Victor didn’t know any better Mayra really wasn’t going to talk to him ever again.
Then John Mayfield seized the opportunity to make Victor look stupid.
Instead of apologizing in front of everybody, Victor was waiting until they made it to the pickup. The sugar joke was funny when Amanda said it. Thanks to the rock he hadn’t seen, like Victor the attempt at humor had fallen flat. He would have explained that he drank several cups of the soda, it was that good. Then he would have offered one of his backup shirts.
But that never happened because John Mayfield was a pain in Victor’s backside. He’d been like that even when they were in school. While the rest of the class goofed around, John sat at his desk, in the front row, with his back ramrod straight, hanging on every word the teacher said.
But that also worked to John’s disadvantage.
True to his do-good nature, John hustled to reach the baseball field, leaving Victor behind. When John was a body’s length ahead, Victor turned around and headed back toward Myra. The team could wait or go ahead and start without him. Victor didn’t like it when he and Mayra were at odds with each other. It felt like he had an overloaded plate and something was on the verge of making the entire contents fall to the ground.
About the time he reached the end of the parking lot, Myra appeared from between the vehicles looking like one of those waitresses from the bars where the guys bought drinks but we’re really there to get away with gawking. As good as she looked, she would have sold a lot of beers and chicken wings.
Where had she been hiding all that feminine beauty? Victor’s body flared a full alert. Beautiful woman approaching. Prepare to go into flex mode.
A sharp slap on his arm brought him back to reality. They were at the park in Ashbrook, and Myra needed a shirt.
Victor had always had a protective eye toward Mayra. She had a heart of gold. This time, the desire to give her a shirt was up there with saving an old lady’s cat from a burning building. If he could pull it off he’d be a hero. Failure meant disappointment of proportional measures. Victor ran to get Mayra a shirt.
On the way to his pickup, he thought the only thing better would be to take her out and buy one to replace the one he ruined. He’d be back in her good graces.
When Myra tried rejecting his offer. It felt like she was casting him aside. That she had walked away from their friendship. Another influx of energy surged through Victor
Then the truth drizzled into Victor’s awareness. The jokes. The hints. The suggestions. He’d heard them and pushed them to the back of his mind. They rushed forward all at once, forming a complete picture. Mayra had long outgrown the younger sister role. She was more than the friend who smelled like lavender and vanilla and had curves that could catch a guy’s attention. She was some man’s future wife.
The air contracted and expanded in Victor’s chest. She was supposed to be his wife.
He cast his gaze toward the baseball field. And she had accepted the invitation to go on a date with John.
dun da da 🙀
This is where the excerpt ends for now. Leave a comment and let me know what you think.