The Rose Garden

By Heather Peters

A classic romance reminiscent of Beauty and the Beast.

After losing everything in a devastating divorce, Victoria Kincaid accepts a temporary position planning a fundraiser for a reclusive, wealthy architect. Upon her arrival at Rose Hill, Victoria hopes the sprawling landscape and exquisite rose garden will offer her the perfect backdrop in which to help her move on with her life. Little does she know that the mysterious Alexander Bishop has set down a strict set of rules which includes no admittance to his forbidden rose garden.

Alexander Bishop has no patience for intrusions into his quiet regimented life, but as a favor for a friend, hires the heartbroken Victoria Kincaid, to assist him in putting together a fundraiser he is expected to organize in a short timeframe. Little does he know that Ms. Kincaid's presence will not only make him question the set of rules he lives by, but his growing affection for her will threaten secrets he's sworn never to reveal.

Together, Victoria and Alexander must overcome their past heartaches, learn to trust each other, and recognize that love has no boundaries, all while the adversary in their midst threatens to keep them apart.

*Mature situations

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather Peters
• Release date: Jul 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223060956

Book preview

Chapter One

Victoria Kincaid stepped through the heavy glass doors and walked from the tall building in midtown Manhattan, out into an early May drizzle. How appropriate , she thought, as she lifted the manila envelope she carried over her head.

Tugging her tote over one shoulder, she made a dash to the subway, a bit stunned by the outcome of her experience in the attorney’s office. To say the meeting between divorce lawyers had been contentious was a pitiful understatement.

She’d slid her MetroCard through the slot, crossed the platform, and approached the incoming train. Her movements were completely without thought. The ride downtown would give her much needed time to absorb all she’d been through since meeting with Tim, her now ex-husband, and the lawyers.

She was oblivious to the crowd as she settled in the half empty car, staring at the dingy tunnel walls as they passed by. The clicking sounds of the subway only added to her agitation as she grew angrier with the occurrence at the lawyer’s office.

Tim had taken, no, stolen, everything from her. He had managed to manipulate both lawyers so that he was granted their mutually owned possessions. How foolish she’d been to put her trust in her attorney. She chastised herself for not paying attention to the small print in the settlement.

Tim had probably paid off both lawyers, she thought, sarcastically, to herself.

She settled back in the curved plastic seat, closed her eyes, and thought about everything she’d lost. Her name had never been added to the townhouse mortgage, which she was sure had been a calculated move by Tim. Had she not been so starry-eyed in love, she would have noticed how he’d manipulated not only their finances but most everything around him, including her, she now realized. His lies and deceit not only left her without possessions and finances but brought to light his adulterous affair as well.

She’d been so happy with her job at Books & Blooms flower and book shop, Victoria hadn’t noticed the signs of betrayal and attributed Tim’s lack of attention to dedication to his work as well.

She wondered if he’d ever really loved her. How could she, a college educated woman, not have seen the signs? Never would she have suspected a cheating husband in the first three years of marriage.

It was not in her nature to be vindictive or to want retaliation but at this moment, she wished he would suffer the same heartache as she did. She sighed, frustration and anger gripping her and tearing at her insides. And just how the hell was she supposed to move on after this nightmare? He’d taken her home; he’d taken her money; shit he’d even taken the cat. He’d left her with nothing, absolutely nothing except a small amount in her personal bank account.

Arriving at her stop, Victoria exited the train and station, and headed back toward the house that shortly would no longer be her home. She’d been informed to pack her clothes and personal items by five p.m. this afternoon, as the new owners were taking immediate possession. Tim had sold the house out from underneath her and smugly informed her at the lawyer’s office that the movers would momentarily take everything.

She shoved shaking fingers inside her bag, pulling out the house keys, and for what would be the last time, entered the foyer. Letting her bag slide from her arm to the floor, she glanced around at the empty rooms. It was strange not to have Hudson, their cat, come to greet her. She would miss his cuddles and contented purrs when they snuggled on cold mornings.

She glanced at the bare walls that once held the odd art pieces they’d found together at antique fairs, outdoor flea markets, even garage sales. Material things, yes, but sentimental purchases that had meant so much to her at the time.

Damn him, she whispered, stepping across the polished tile floors and trudging upstairs to the bedroom. As she entered the area, a pile of her luggage sat in the middle of the floor. She looked over to where the king-sized bed once stood and thought back to the times when she and Tim had made love, unaware that he’d been cheating on her for God knows how long. Their intimate moments had obviously meant more to her than to Tim.

She briefly closed her eyes before returning her attention to the luggage. Next to it sat a small box of family trinkets. At least he’d left these cherished mementos for her.

With no other choice, she unzipped the two large rolling pieces of luggage, pushing them toward the closet. She tossed her lingerie along with sweaters and jeans inside the bags. She moved to the opposite side of the closet, grabbing, then adding the remainder of her clothes. She did the same with her shoes. Hanging clothes that didn’t fit in the luggage were placed inside the garment bags. She next took a weekender, strode into the bathroom, and haphazardly swept toiletries and make-up that were strewn across the counter into the smaller case.

She was determined not to leave any of her clothes behind, and struggled to secure the suitcases, but after kneeling on the bags, was able to secure them.

Careful not to stumble with the heels she wore, step by step, she awkwardly dragged her belongings down the stairs, the cases thumping with each step downward. Huffing out a breath, she finally reached the landing where she’d left her tote. Setting the bags beside her, she dug through the large tote for her cell and called for a ride.

Waiting for the Uber, she turned and took one last look around, pangs clutching at her heart. She silently surveyed the now hollow shell that had once been her home. A place of happiness was now just a space, cold and void of any joy. She sniffed back tears and closed her eyes. It’s not yours anymore, just go. She rolled the luggage out to the front porch and closed the door.

Ten minutes later she watched the Uber driver, a sturdy looking man, placing her bags in the roomy trunk of the town car. As if mirroring her downtrodden mood, the rain had begun to descend in earnest as she settled in the back seat. The driver turned to her to confirm her destination.

As they proceeded downtown to Books & Blooms, and her dear friend and employer, Agnes Peabody, Victoria closed her eyes, attempting to process all that had happened in the past several hours.

She was alone now; her parents gone, family spread out all over the country, and the person she’d once thought the love of her life had left her completely bereft. She was amazed she hadn’t yet cried, but knew the devastation hadn’t quite sunk in.

As the Uber reached her destination and pulled to the curb, she glanced at the many signs stapled to the utility poles, and the construction vehicles lining the street. She was reminded of receiving notice several days prior that the electric company would be shutting down power to the entire block in a few days. The shop would be closed for weeks, maybe more.

After unloading her suitcases in the pouring rain, she approached the door of the shop, juggling various parcels of luggage. She stumbled inside the building, soaked, and bedraggled, standing in a small puddle that dripped from her clothes.

Just a moment, came the voice she knew as Agnes, the owner, in response to the tinkling of the bell on the door.

Oh dear, the petite, older woman exclaimed, approaching Victoria at the shop entrance. Agnes glanced at all the luggage, and Victoria’s state of dishevelment and instantly understood the severity of the situation. Oh, Tori, she exclaimed in a sympathetic tone.

The tears came in earnest now, as Agnes moved to wrap her arms around the young woman. I didn’t know where else to go, Victoria sobbed.

There, there, dearie, Agnes comforted, allowing Victoria the time to cry herself out. It’s been a trying day, I’m sure, she added. It’s almost closing time. I’ll lock up the shop early, and we’ll take your luggage upstairs. I guess I don’t have to ask how it went? Come on, she said, grabbing one of the suitcases. We’ll have tea, and you can tell me about the meeting.

Victoria made her way up the short flight of stairs to the apartment above the shop where Agnes lived, placed the luggage in the cozy spare bedroom, and stripped off her sopping wet clothes, replacing them with a t-shirt and jeans she pulled from her luggage, while Agnes saw to heating water for tea.

Agnes was placing two mugs on the kitchen counter when Victoria entered the room. Tell me all of it. Start at the beginning, was all she had to say.

I’ve lost everything. I have nothing left, Victoria announced, barely keeping her tears in check, recounting the betrayal of her now ex-husband.

It’s going to be okay, dearie, Agnes reassured, setting a steaming mug of tea before Victoria. She pushed a box of tissues toward her as well. He really was a bastard, wasn’t he?

To put it mildly, Victoria agreed, taking a tissue and dabbing at her eyes.

Agnes joined her at the table with her own cup of tea.

It was all a lie, Agnes, from the beginning. Victoria swiped an errant tear that slid down her cheek. He never really loved me. He swindled me out of the townhouse, and the accounts. How did I not see this? she sighed.

Agnes now managed a tiny grin and faced her friend. You didn’t see it because you were in love. She affectionately placed her hand on Victoria’s arm.

Victoria sniffed back tears. My God, I’m thirty years old and now I have to start all over.

Agnes huffed. That vicious man. You know I never liked him. He’ll get his in the end. But in the meantime, don’t blame yourself. You’re not the first woman to be blinded by love.

Was this real love, Agnes, or did I just want to live the dream? I’m now questioning my definition of love. I never want to be blinded again.

Agnes extended her arm to Victoria in a show of support, allowing Victoria to sort through her emotions.

I appreciate you letting me stay here, but with the city shutting down power for God knows how long, I still need to find a place to stay. Victoria lifted her fingers to her temples, where a headache had begun to throb behind her eyes.

You’ll stay with me, at least until the shut off, and we’ll figure it out.

I’ve saved a little money in my personal account, but not enough to start over and certainly not enough to get an apartment. What am I supposed to do? She looked at Agnes for the first time and noticed the inquisitive furrowing of the older woman’s brow. What is it? What are you thinking?

Agnes put on a smile. I may have a solution, was all she said, changing the subject. Tomorrow will be another day and we can tackle this fresh then, hmm? It’s going to be alright. In the meantime, let’s say good riddance and look to brighter days. Have you eaten at all today?"

Victoria shook her head. Just a cup of coffee this morning.

Agnes frowned with a grunt. I have beef barley soup in the fridge. I’ll heat it up; we’ll brainstorm. She placed a hand on Victoria’s sleeve with a mother’s touch.

Thanks Agnes, Victoria sighed. Soup sounds great.

Well, it was that or waffles, and I know you detest waffles.

A chuckle escaped her, and Victoria nodded. Tim always insisted on making waffles no matter how many times I told him I hated them.

Because he was an ass, Agnes recalled.

Chapter Two

I ’m not interested in doing a fundraiser, Alexander argued, but realized his objection was a moot point as the councilman had already hung up after assuming he’d agreed to his proposal.

Damn, he muttered in frustration, tossing his phone on the desk and running his fingers over his silver-tinged hair.

The phone rang again. Now who the hell is it? He picked up his cell. Yes? his deep voice held obvious terseness.

Having a bit of a rough night, A. J.? the caller asked in response to his abrupt tone.

Hello Agnes, he stated, softening the curt tone of his voice upon hearing his lifelong friend’s use of his nickname. Yes, something like that. I was just coerced into planning a fundraiser for the library project I’m designing. As if I have time for that right now.

That’s perfect, Agnes exclaimed.

Perfect? I understand it’s a well needed cause, but I’m knee deep in other projects, Aggie.

Well, that’s because you, Alexander James Bishop, are an outstanding pillar of the community.

Right, he paused. Is everything alright? Are you well?

I’m fine, she confirmed. What I meant by ‘perfect’, is, I think I have just the solution to your dilemma.

Alexander drew in a deep breath, anticipating the disruption to his quiet, reclusive lifestyle.

I need your help, A.J. My manager has had a bit of a setback in her personal life, and while I offered her my place to stay, we have been given notice that the city will be doing repairs and shutting down utilities for an undetermined amount of time. This means I must close the shop and she cannot stay here. I was planning to see my son and his family in Florida during the shutdown, but Victoria has nowhere to go. Why don’t you hire her as an assistant to work on the fundraiser and give her a room at your place temporarily while the shop is closed. She is a hard worker, great with numbers and people and would be perfect for this job.

You’re not serious? he inquired; his voice filled with impatience.

Stop growling, will you? Of course, I’m serious. She’s having a bad time, and this would be mutually beneficial to you both. It’s a perfect solution.

I’m not the unemployment office, he said stubbornly. Nor am I a babysitter.

Babysitter? She’s thirty years old. Her divorce was just finalized. Agnes told him pointedly. He took everything from her. The son-of-a-bitch was cheating as well. You know what that’s like, Agnes reminded before continuing. I can vouch for her. She needs to get back on her feet, A.J., the bastard devastated her.

I’m not into bleeding heart cases, and I certainly do not want to be reminded of the past, he hedged.

You need to put aside your own issues, A.J. She needs to work immediately. I can’t change the fact that the city is going to shut us down. All this just happened. I can’t change my plans to visit my family. The plane tickets have been purchased and they’re expecting me.

Sorry, Aggie, I’m unable to comply with your request.

You mean you won’t, she snapped.

No, I mean, you know as well as I that the west wing is under construction. We’ve moved all the furniture to the empty front suites in the east wing.

Agnes let out a frustrated sigh. So, give her the empty suite next to yours.

No. He cut her words in half with his tone.

Look, it’s empty, and has nothing to do with Laura any longer. It’s time to move on. Laura has been gone for over four years. Victoria would love the view of the gardens from that suite.

I like my life just the way it is.

You can’t live in the past forever.

Just because I have the room doesn’t mean I’m running a haven for wayward strays, even if she is a friend of yours.

Shame on you, A.J.! You listen to me, and don’t interrupt! She’s a proud woman and needs to have a purpose. Yes, I know it’s a bother, but she’s a smart, strong girl and could really be a help to you. I’m asking you – will you please just do this for me, if not her?

I don’t know about this.

A.J., you have the means to do this. There was a time you wouldn’t have hesitated to help someone.

That was a different time.

You really need to stop wallowing in self-pity. Besides, you owe me a favor for finding those first editions Yeats volumes you were looking for.

So many moments of silence passed, she thought he’d disconnected. Are you still there, A.J.?

Yes.

She has the experience. She can plan the event, send out the invitations and anything else you need her to do.

Seems you’ve thought of everything, haven’t you, Aggie?

Not everything since the idea just popped into my head. Give her a chance. It’s only for a short while. Silence ensued. You’re only hesitating because you’re cranky and seem to enjoy giving me a hard time. Again, Alexander said nothing. "Say something, A.J., and please make it the word yes."

I’ll call you in the morning, Aggie. Goodbye.

Alexander once again tossed his phone onto his desk, sitting back in his chair, knowing against his better judgment, he’d acquiesce to Agnes’ request.

What the hell am I getting myself into? He rose from his chair and poured himself a scotch from a crystal decanter on the table in the corner of his office. He took a large gulp of the strong amber liquid as he began to pace the length of the room. He went to the window and opened it to the night breeze which carried in the scent from his gardens. It was quiet, so quiet. He could hear the buzz of crickets coming out to greet the night, and nothing else except the sound of his own breathing. He’d coveted the silence for the past four years. Why would he want someone to disturb it now? Why would he put up a guest, a woman he knew nothing about, for an indeterminate amount of time? I’ve lost my mind for sure, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in abject frustration.

Looking over at the mound of work on his desk, papers strewn everywhere, pencils and drafting tools haphazardly thrown about, he took a deep cleansing breath, and closed his eyes. Maybe he could use the help. After all, he’d attempted to decline the fundraising proposal because of the mounting workload right now. So, if the councilman was determined he should do it, then why not unleash that burden onto someone else?

He downed the remainder of his drink, set the glass on his desk, returning to his chair, and picked up his cell phone. With a long intake of breath, he pressed the redial button and waited for an answer.

I’ll send a car in the morning was all he said to Agnes before once again disconnecting the call.

Chapter Three

Victoria woke to the smell of coffee and was that French toast? The wonderful aromas did nothing to improve her state of mind after spending a restless night recounting the previous days’ events.

Sliding out of bed, Victoria rifled through the clothes residing in her suitcase. She was discouraged by the wrinkled and rumpled appearance of the garments she’d haphazardly tossed in the day before. It was not in her nature to appear disheveled or unkempt. She was very meticulous about her appearance, always appearing well put together. But glancing at the heap of clothes exploding from the suitcase, and not having the means to hang up or iron items in her wardrobe, she’d have no choice but to wear something she considered less than presentable. She pulled out a shirt, shook it out, and plopped down on the bed. Holding the crumpled material tightly in her hand, the tears began to fall. She felt so utterly alone.

How was it that in such a short time, she’d lost her home, her husband, her money, and even her cat. How was it that all her trust, all her love had not been enough to sustain what she thought, was a stable relationship.

Everything she held dear was gone, except for Agnes and the shop, but in a short time, even the shop would be closed temporarily.

She brushed the tears from her cheeks, knowing she needed to pull herself together enough to get dressed. How ironic, she thought to herself, that her messy clothes reflected the disarray of her life.

She composed herself the best she could, and after getting dressed she went out to the kitchen.

Victoria smiled, seeing Agnes opening the oven and pulling out two pans containing cookies.

Cookies? Victoria questioned, looking over her friend’s shoulder, at the tray of cookies cooling on the stove.

I made a treat for a friend, Agnes stated, referring to the cookies. Breakfast is ready, I’ve been keeping them warm. Take a seat and I’ll bring it over. Her brows furrowed as she looked at Victoria.

You’ve been crying.

Victoria said nothing.

Agnes shook her head. I know it feels hopeless. You’re grieving, but it will take time.

Agnes placed the platter of food on the table as well as their mugs of coffee. She sat across from Victoria.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, Victoria confessed.

Hmm. Agnes looked over the rim of her mug at her friend. I had an idea last night.

Idea? About what? Victoria asked, taking a sip of coffee.

How to solve two problems. You need a place to stay and an income while we are closed, and a friend of mine needs someone to coordinate a project. I think what I have in mind would be mutually beneficial to the both of you.

Both of us?

Yes. I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of calling someone I know, last night. I told him a bit about your circumstance.

So, he thinks I’m a charity case?

NO! Not at all.

Victoria dabbed her mouth with a napkin and nodded. She looked up at her friend. At this point, I guess I am, huh? I suppose anything you’re able to arrange would be a step up from where my life is right now."

Agnes set down her mug and folded her hands under her chin. He’s a lifelong friend, Alexander James Bishop, or A.J. as I like to call him. You’ve heard me speak of him.

Yes, you’ve mentioned him. Wasn’t he the one who helped you purchase the shop after your husband passed?

Agnes nodded. He and his wife were friends of ours, Agnes confirmed. He and Richard were architects who started their own firm. He is very successful and a respected member of his community, and owns an estate aptly named Rose Hill, north of the city. His work keeps him extremely