Her Hidden Secret - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

The new convenience store at the construction site had just opened, manned—or rather, womanned—by the still-stunning proprietress, Vivian Langley. The migrant workers' favorite pastime was shooting their shot with her, and at night, some of the bolder ones would press their faces against the cracks in her door, hoping to catch a glimpse of her bathing.
A few of them were huddled together now, whispering like schoolboys plotting their next mischief.
"I went in earlier to buy smokes and made sure to hold her hand a little too long. Jesus, her skin's like silk—unreal!"
"How soft we talkin'? Softer than that college chick from last time?"
"Shut your damn mouth! We don't talk about that! But... yeah, she's just as fine."
Their crude laughter jolted me awake from my half-assed nap in the shade. After that, sleep was out of the question.
I'd only been at this site a few days, and these guys were a different breed from my last crew. Every conversation eventually veered into gutter territory.
Not long ago, Vivian Langley had opened up shop here—a middle-aged woman, sure, but with the kind of poise that didn't belong in a place like this.
Slender, graceful, with an air of faded elegance, she looked like a woman who'd once lived in penthouses but now found herself slinging snacks to sweaty construction workers.
We'd talked a handful of times. She claimed to be in her forties, but I'd have pegged her for mid-thirties, tops. And she had it—that effortless allure younger girls couldn't fake.
Women were a rare sight on-site. A bunch of grimy, testosterone-fueled men made even the glimpse of a passing female feel like an event. But Vivian? She wasn't just a woman—she was the woman.
And yeah, I wasn't immune.
Especially not to someone like her—ripe, experienced, the kind of woman who knew exactly what she was doing. For a guy like me, young and restless, resisting wasn't an option.
Listening to my coworkers' filthy banter sent a slow burn through me. Licking my parched lips, I pushed myself up and headed for the store.
"Vivian! Grab me a Coke—ice-cold!"
The second the words left my mouth, something felt... off.
A sharp gasp came from the back room, followed by the frantic rustling of fabric—like someone yanking their pants up in a hurry.
"Roland? Just—just a second."
The bedframe creaked behind the counter.
Then Vivian stepped out, swaying slightly, fanning herself with a palm-leaf fan like some old-world temptress.
When she appeared, my eyes locked onto her like a tractor beam.
She wore a simple linen vest, the kind you'd see on some grandma in the countryside. But the heat had plastered the fabric to her skin, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Noticing my stare, she flushed and smacked me lightly with the fan.
"Eyes up here, you little devil."
I swallowed hard, my gaze lingering a second too long. "Can't help it. You're too damn gorgeous. Basic biology took over."
A faint pink tinted her cheeks, making her even more irresistible. She tsked, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "You're getting way too bold."
"Heh..."
Seeing she wasn't actually pissed, I pushed my luck.
"Viv, you gotta get an AC in here. Otherwise, your whole... situation is on full display."
She studied me for a long beat, then nodded like she was actually considering it before faking a scowl. "Maybe I should... but then you'd get even worse. Already calling me by my name instead of 'Auntie.'"
I grinned. "Blame your genes. You're like some kind of immortal beauty. Any guy with a pulse would stare. And I'm just a red-blooded man—no way I'm the exception."
The more outrageous I got, the more her lips curled in amusement. She was eating it up.
Still, she whacked my forehead with the fan. "How many times do I have to say it? Call me Auntie. I'm old enough to be your mother."
I put on my best poker face. "Could've fooled me. Far as I can tell, you're still in the 'hot older sister' category."