Solid Gold Seduction (The Drakes of California)

by Zuri Day

  “Yeah, right.” Her tone still held sarcasm but she was clearly enjoying the story.

  “In high school and college,” Warren continued, his tone changing. “That’s when reality set in. People hear you have a little money and it changes things. I never knew whether a woman was after me for me or for what they thought they could get from me. I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but it never went as far as me presenting a ring.”

  “And you’re not seeing anyone right now?”

  He shook his head. “My last relationship ended about seven months ago, when I found out that she was using underhanded means to try to get pregnant.”

  “She told you she was on birth control and wasn’t?”

  “Worse. Needle holes in my condoms.”

  “No!”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “I didn’t want to. But it was true.”

  “Speaking of condoms...”

  “I know, we didn’t use them. I thought about that, too. I’m clean, though. Got tested right after I ended my last relationship, and again when I had my annual physical last month.”

  “I am, too,” she said. “But...I’m not on the pill.”

  “Do you think you’re pregnant?”

  “God, I hope not!”

  “Dang, Charli. Why’d you have to say it like that?”

  “Do you want a baby?”

  “Hell, no!”

  They burst out laughing.

  “Next time, we’ll take the proper precautions.”

  “Oh, so you’re sure there’s going to be a next time, huh?”

  “Only if you want it.”

  She reached over and grasped his hand. “I do.”

  Their conversation continued, easily gliding from one topic to another, until about thirty minutes later when the helicopter company called. Things moved quickly after that: their freshly dry-cleaned clothes arrived, then they were driven to the airport and an hour later descended on the makeshift landing spot outside Paradise Cove.

  They walked to their cars and hugged.

  “I guess it’s time to get back to the real world,” Charli said.

  “Evidently,” Warren said, checking his phone. “I’ve missed several calls, so something must be happening.” He gave her a quick kiss. “See you tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  A short time later, Warren turned from the highway onto the long, winding and now fully paved drive leading to his home. What he saw almost made him slam on the brakes. His house looked completely finished!

  Maybe that’s why he’s been blowing up my phone, Warren thought, regarding the missed calls from Jackson. The calls from Walter and Ike, he felt, had to do with gold.

  He parked his Maserati, walked around his beautiful, shingle-roofed home and back to the maze of deep holes that one day would be his pool area. As soon as he approached the group of men standing around an excavator, the questions and comments began.

  “Boy, where have you been?”

  “Mr. Drake, I have some questions.”

  “Warren! I’ve been calling you since yesterday!”

  “Oh, so you finally decide to grace us with your presence? What’s wrong with you?”

  Against the barrage of comments and questions, he put up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. Look, I apologize for not returning your phone calls but what was supposed to be a few hours spent in San Francisco turned into an all-night affair.”

  Ike spoke first. “Sounds like you’re about to go into your love life and, son, you can keep that to yourself.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Walter grumbled. “I want to know about the filly who could take you away from the prospect of all this money!”

  “And from the completion of your home,” Jackson added.

  “Is it finished?”

  “Not totally. The men are still working on the inside. But it will be done by the weekend and ready for the interior designers to take over.”

  Warren reached out his hand to Jackson, “Thanks, man.” He turned to Walter. “What’s going on, Grandpa?”

  “About a quarter million dollars’ worth of gold, from the looks of things.”

  Warren’s mouth dropped. “What?”

  “Uh-huh, thought that would get your attention. Looks like we might have a good amount more if we keep tunneling west. Some of it looks to be on Reed property, so we’ll need to pay them for the right to dig up their land and give them a small percentage of whatever is found on their land.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. What are you saying?”

  “We’re the ones prospecting for the gold, son,” Walter explained. “It’s our investment, our machinery, our time and effort. So we’ll pay them under a limited time lands right agreement and keep ourselves out of court.”

  “That’s not how this is going to work. I’ve already spoken to Charli about it, and to my attorneys. She knows that there may be gold on their land. And while I didn’t share this, I feel that whatever we find should be split fifty-fifty. That’s how the papers were drawn up.”

  Walter frowned. “So we do all of the work and the Reeds still get half of the profit? How do you figure that?”

  “Dad, I think I know how he figured it.” Ike turned from Walter to Warren. “Is it Charli you spent the night with in San Francisco?”

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to hear about my love life.”

  Walter turned to Ike. “I have my answer.” He turned to Warren. “Now, look. I can’t fault you for getting a little poontang, but don’t let it cloud your judgment, son.”

  “Charli isn’t a piece of meat, Grandpa,” Warren said, his voice rising along with his temper. “She’s our neighbor and a landowner who needs to be treated with fairness and respect.”

  For a few seconds, nothing stirred but the wind.

  “Perhaps we should discuss this later,” Ike said.

  “I don’t think there’s anything to discuss, Dad. Whatever gold we find will be split fifty-fifty.”

  “That may be how you feel about it, Warren,” Ike replied. “But this land doesn’t just belong to you. It belongs to the Drake family. So everyone should have a say in what happens.”

  “If I hadn’t decided to make use of this land, start the vineyard and build this house, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation. So I think that my feelings should be given due consideration. Grandpa, you and Charles Reed fell out over something that he deemed unfair.” He held up his hand when Walter would have protested. “I’m not saying I believe it, even though I mostly only know your side of the story. So, sure, we can talk about it. But when it comes to this generation, specifically me and Charli, I want to turn the page on this feud by seeing whatever profits there are split right down the middle.” He looked at his father, at Walter, at Jackson and at Tom. “And I mean that.”

  Chapter 29

  Charli looked at the caller ID and took a deep breath. It was Alice, and Charli knew why she was calling: because a staggering amount of gold had been discovered on the Drake and Reed ranches. The scrutiny had been bad enough when it just a rumor. But that phrase—the media whore culprit’s words, not Warren’s or Charli’s—had hit the news and now tongues were truly wagging all over town.

  “Good morning, Miss Alice.”

  “Girl, is it true what I’m hearing?”

  She could have asked what Alice was talking about, but that would have been wasted breath. “About the gold? Yes, it’s true.”

  Alice squealed. “Ooh, Charlene. You’re going to be rich!”

  “Well, Miss Alice, I don’t know about that.”

  “Charles always believed there was more gold on that land than what he found. He’s probably up in heaven doing a jig right about now.”

  The thought of her grandfather happy and dancing brought a smile to Charli’s face.

  “So how does that work, getting the gold, exchanging it for money and all?”

  “What do you mean, exactly?”

>   “What do you think I mean? When are you going to get the cash so we can go shopping?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Alice. But however much it is, I don’t plan on buying out any boutiques any time soon.”

  “Please don’t tell me you’re going to be a miser like your grandfather was. I was praying that when it came to clothes and shopping you’d inherited that gene from Cherise, not Charles.”

  “Ha!”

  “Speaking of, have you told your mother?”

  Charli frowned. “No, why would I do that?”

  “Now, Charlene. I know that you and your mother aren’t the best of friends, but Charles was her father. Her name is also on that land. She has a right to know.”

  “She never wanted anything to do with the farm! Left it as soon as she could and married my father.”

  “That may be, but right is right and wrong is wrong. Just remember that.”

  “What I’ll remember is that she left Grandpa and me and ran away to Canada with her pseudorich new husband. I’ll remember that she rarely calls me. I’ll remember that when it’s come to surviving since I was sixteen, Charles helped me, not Cherise. That’s what I’ll remember.”

  Alice’s voice was low as she responded. “Okay. If you say so. But I also hope that you’ll remember to do the right thing. The way Charles taught you. The way he would have wanted.”

  Charli took a deep, calming breath. “You’re right, Miss Alice. I will.” A pause and then, “May I ask you something?”

  “Sure, Charlene.”

  “Did Grandpa ever tell you what happened between him and Walter Drake?”

  A slight hesitation and then, “Uh-huh.”

  “He told me that Walter stole from him, that they had a deal about the land and the business and Walter reneged on the deal.”

  “Well, baby, you know what they say. There are three sides to every story, those of the two parties involved...and the truth.”

  “Are you saying that that’s not what happened?”

  “I’m saying that Charles saw things from his perspective and had selective memory as the years went on.”

  “You sound pretty sure of what you’re saying. Why’s that?”

  “Part of what I’m telling you is what he told me, and the other part I know because I was there.”

  “You were?” This information was news to Charli.

  “You remember that I used to do the books for them when they first started their business?”

  “Oh, right. I remember.”

  “The dairy always did good while Charles and Walter were partners. But after Walter left and returned to New Orleans, well, let’s just say your grandfather wasn’t always the best businessman.”

  “So Gramps lied to me all those years? Walter Drake wasn’t responsible for his financial struggles, and the Drakes aren’t as bad as he’s made them out to be?”

  Even as she said this she thought of Warren, and knew the answer.

  * * *

  Ashley sat in her mother’s fancy hair salon—Joy’s House of Style—getting a long, fresh weave. It was Friday, the place was crowded and as often happened when a bunch of women got together—gossip reigned.

  “I heard that they were sleeping together,” said one of the women, her hair sticking out all over with sections wrapped in foil.

  “Who?” another asked, her ear sticking just far enough from under the dryer so as not to miss a word.

  “The owner of Bucks and the new waitress.”

  Ashley rolled he eyes. “That little redhead with the big butt and the bigger ego, busing tables with an attitude and acting like she owns the place!”

  Joy joined the others in laughter. “How can you think you’re all that while taking somebody else’s order and carrying dirty dishes?”

  “Honey,” Miss Foil responded, “Must be those tips she’s getting after hours!”

  Rachel, who’d had her hair washed, dried and conditioned and was now receiving a flatiron press, said nothing. But she was listening, hard, trying to miss neither consonant nor vowel.

  “Speaking of tips,” Under-the-Dryer continued. “Have y’all heard the latest? About the gold that the Drakes supposedly found on their property?”

  Ashley perked up. Rachel leaned slightly toward the woman with the news.

  “Read a little on the internet,” Joy said, all ears as well. “Who’d you hear it from?”

  The woman pulled her head from under the dryer. Dry hair would have to wait. “One of my girlfriends, whose boyfriend is working on the crew digging it up. Ooh, but I just remembered that I wasn’t supposed to tell nobody so...y’all haven’t heard this from me!”

  The whole room burst into laughter.

  “We’re not going to say anything,” Joy promised. “But is it really true? They’ve found gold?”

  “They’ve got armed security walking the premises. What’s that tell you?”

  “It tells me that they’re guarding something besides grapes.”

  “And not just the Drakes, but their neighbor, too.”

  “Who?” an older woman asked, putting down her magazine and looking at the woman under the dryer. “The Reeds? The ones who own that dairy farm?”

  “I don’t know their names,” Under-the-Dryer said, slipping her head back under the hot air. “But I heard that they’ve dug up a lot of dirt on both properties, and nobody can just drive up and have a look. They’ve got it on lock!”

  A new customer came back to where the women were sitting. Having heard the last bit of conversation, she joined in before her butt hit the chair. “What you guys are talking about is old news. The story ran in the Chronicle and is all over the internet. They even talked about it on our cable channel.”

  “Wow,” Joy said with a sly glance at her daughter. “Those Drakes are money magnets!”

  Rachel sat, contemplating what she’d just heard. A recent memory caused her to sit straight up.

  “Don’t move, Rachel. You’re about to make me burn you with this iron!”

  “Sorry.”

  Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the first of only a handful of conversations she’d had with Richard, and the one time they’d gone out. He was working for Warren, he’d told her, and had asked about gold. Then she remembered something else. The Paradise Ball and the woman who’d made Warren forget that Rachel was even in the room. Later she’d found out her name: Charlene Reed. So...they’re neighbors. Now it made sense, why his quick text replies stated he was busy and why her phone calls had largely gone unreturned.

  Rachel now knew what was going on. What she didn’t know was what she’d do about it.

  Later, when Joy had returned to the home that she and Ashley shared, she found her daughter and got right to the point. “What’s going on with you and Niko?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  “What do you mean, why? If I’ve taught you anything, I’ve taught you to go after the paper. You’re beautiful, you’re smart and you and Niko have been hanging out for a while. Why can’t you get him to pop the question?”

  “Niko’s his own man, Mom. If I start pressuring him for a commitment that will simply push him away.”

  “Well, what about his younger brother, Terrell? Maybe he’d be an easier catch.”

  “Mom!”

  “I know that sounds scandalous. But I’m just keeping it real. If one brother doesn’t work, another one might. You’d better step up your game before somebody else does and ruins your chances of taking on the Drake name.”

  Two women, coming from two very different places, had a lot to think about.

  Chapter 30

  Richard sat at the bar in Acquired Taste, sipping Hennessy and Coke. It was his first day back in Paradise Cove since Warren had surprised him by giving him a week off, with pay, and he’d driven into Oakland on a whim and met a honey. He’d been holed up at her place for five days. Now he was back to pacify Rachel, whose phone calls he’d mostly dodged. They had a date tonight, but Richard knew he’d need t
o be fortified to put up with what he assumed would be an interrogation. Rachel was a pretty woman, the type of “good girl” his late mother would probably have liked to see him bring home. But the sister he’d met in Oakland was more his speed, and his taste. Like him, she liked to access her inner freak. So they had, with relish, all week long.

  “Freshen that up for you?” the bartender asked.

  “Why not?” Richard said.

  “Can I get you something to snack on?”

  “No, thanks, man. I’m going to dinner in a little bit.”

  “And that won’t be here?” The bartender put both hands over his heart. “Say it isn’t so!”

  “This is my favorite place, you know that. But everybody has to switch it up every now and then.”

  The bartender smiled and nodded as he wiped down the counter. “I hear you.” He looked up as another man sat down. “Cedric! My man!” He walked over and gave the man a fist pound.

  “Hey, Duane.”

  “The usual?”

  Richard watched as Cedric answered, then looked over and nodded in greeting. Richard nodded back.

  “Don’t I know you?” Cedric asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You work over there with Warren, right?”

  Richard scowled. The brother had just sat down and was already asking too many questions. “I might. Why?”

  “Sorry, man, I don’t mean to pry.” He moved and sat so there was only one bar stool between them. “Cedric Martin.” He held out his hand. “I’m good friends with his neighbor, Charli Reed.”

  This got Richard’s attention. “Richard Cunningham.”

  The men shook hands. The bartender delivered Cedric’s drink. “Oh, and hook me up with an order of those gourmet hot wings,” Cedric said.

  “Coming right up.”

  “Yeah,” Cedric continued once the bartender had gone to the other end of the counter. “It’s crazy what’s happening over there with Charli.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You haven’t heard? They found a bunch of gold over on both her and Warren’s property.”

  Richard sat back, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t say.”