Riley glanced from her to the reporter, who was joined now by two others. The other restaurant patrons were staring.
He leaned forward. “Don’t you have a restraining order?”
“Yes.”
He reached inside his jacket and pulled out his phone. “Then I’m calling the police.”
Lisa pointed to Riley’s phone but looked toward the reporters. “He’s calling the police,” she called. “You might want to move on.”
His call was answered and he gave the dispatcher the details.
“This is Miss Martin’s restraining order,” the officer said. “She needs to make the complaint.”
He extended the phone. “You have to report it.”
She accepted it without hesitation. “Hi,” she said. “The paparazzi are interrupting my dinner. Could you speak with them? I think they’ll go if you just talk to them.”
She got out of her seat to walk across the room.
More flashes popped, but she walked directly up to the nearest man with a camera. “It’s for you,” she said. “The police.”
Chapter Six
Riley stood and followed a few feet behind her. He watched the bizarre scene unfold and couldn’t help glancing at the curiously staring diners. The reporters looked more uncomfortable at being called out than Lisa did at confronting them. No matter how unorthodox her method, she’d deftly turned the tables and had the situation firmly in control. Maybe she didn’t need his advice as much as he’d first thought.
“Go ahead,” she said to the officer on the phone. “I’m putting the offender on now.” She pointed to Riley’s cell phone and handed it to the man whose camera was now lowered. The other two men first zeroed in for close-ups of the newly transformed heiress, then trained their lenses on the one-sided phone conversation.
“Hello?” the man said uncertainly. “Er, yes. Chad Falkner. Uh-huh. Yes, I’m aware. Certainly. All right. Now, yes. Er, thanks.”
He handed the phone back to Lisa and turned to the men beside him. “We’re outta here or they’re coming to arrest us.”
“I knew you’d see reason,” she told them, still speaking in a friendly manner. “Hey, none of us wants to be made a spectacle of, do we?” She put the phone to her ear. “Thanks, Officer. They’ll be going now.”
She flipped the phone shut and extended it to Riley.
He stifled the urge to laugh while he tucked it away, and a sudden idea occurred. He stepped forward. “Excuse me, but may I make a suggestion?”
The restaurant manager hurried toward them at that moment, a concerned look on his face. “Is there a problem? Would you like to use my office? Or perhaps your party could step outside so as not to disturb the other diners.”
“Did you get this on film?” Lisa asked the young man who still aimed a camera.
“I did,” he said.
“How about him?” she asked, indicating the reporter who’d spoken with the police and was clearly at a loss for what to say or do next. “Did you get him talking to the police?”
The same reporter nodded.
“Let’s step outside for a minute,” Riley said, finally taking control.
He and Lisa and the manager accompanied the three reporters out the door. They stood on the pavement in front of the building. Night had fallen and insects buzzed around the neon signs that lit their small gathering.
“I’d like to make a proposition,” Riley began. “And Miss Martin, you call me out if this is out of line or if you don’t agree. I suggest Miss Martin give you an exclusive personal interview—”
“Wait a minute,” Lisa started to object.
“Let me finish,” he insisted and turned back to the reporters. “An exclusive personal interview at a time and place of her choosing and at her discretion. Taped, not live. You will provide her with the questions ahead of time. She can refuse to answer any she wishes, and she’ll be allowed to provide questions she wants to be asked. She’ll have the right to preview the interview before it’s aired.
“In return for this gracious gift of her time and the sacrifice of privacy, you will leave her alone for an entire week following the airing.” He faced Lisa. “Miss Martin, how do you feel about this?”
She glanced from Riley to the reporters and replied without hesitation. “Sure.”
“And you, gentlemen?”
The media people all needed permission from their superiors, but all three were eager for the opportunity. Riley took their names and numbers and gave them his business card in return. Chad Falkner smirked as though he’d been granted an interview with Julia Roberts.
“Now if you’ll excuse us,” Riley said, “we have a dinner to finish.”
When they returned to their table, their plates were missing. “I had your meals kept warm for you, sir,” their waiter said. He signaled, and a moment later their dinners were returned.
Lisa’s hesitant glance took in patrons at other tables, then raised to his.
“That was the last thing I expected you to do,” he told her. “Confronting them like that. You were great.”
“I’m all about your pleasure,” she said, picking up her fork.
The double meaning of that statement zapped other coherent thought from his head. She wasn’t anything he’d expected her to be, nothing like the reticent young woman he’d planned to befriend and assist. “You keep surprising me,” he said honestly.
“I’m surprising myself.”
He studied her features, her shiny hair and the way the light glowed on her bare shoulders. He wasn’t the one who was supposed to feel as if he was walking on marbles. He had to be very careful around this woman.
“I’ve begun asking myself what Lily would have done.”
“Lily Divine?”
“My great-great-grandmother. I think there’s a lot more we don’t know about her. And a lot we think we know that isn’t true.”
“Like what?”
“She’s famous for being the Shady Lady, but that was just the name of her saloon. I don’t think she was a prostitute.”
“How do you explain that painting over the bar?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know that I have to.”
“The dresses? The saloon?”
She looked him in the eye. “You can hang fuzzy dice around your neck and go stand in your garage, but that doesn’t make you a car.”
He laughed.
She laid down her fork and placed her napkin on the table. “I’ve been reading your great-great-grandmother’s journals.”
“Which grandmother?”
“Catherine Douglas. Amos’s wife.”
“I’ve never heard about any journals.”
“Well, they belong to Tildy Matheson now. Remember you told me about Emily Stanton and Brad Vaughn going through things at Tildy’s and finding the deed? Well, it seems Catherine left her belongings to Tildy’s grandmother.”
“That’s strange.”
“She plans to bequeath a trunk full of items to the historical society.”
“It’s odd those things weren’t kept in the family,” he said, thinking out loud.
“Many families don’t have heirlooms because things get discarded before they’re actually valuable or have much sentiment. It’s fortunate that someone kept these things in good condition.”
He could see that and nodded his agreement.
She picked up her glass and sipped wine. The recessed lighting flattered her dark hair and the sparkle in her eyes accentuated the feminine hollows of her collarbone and the curve of her shoulders. Riley noticed the way the red fabric was designed to loop over the top of each arm and drape suggestively across her breasts.
He didn’t remember much about the painting of the Shady Lady except those exceptionally appealing breasts. At some time or another, he’d bet every teenage boy in Thunder Canyon had been intrigued by that enigmatic woman from the town’s past…and by her breasts. In the next heartbeat his thoughts took a natural turn and he imagined Lisa without t
he dress. The mental image was a complete turn-on.
“Would you like to see them?”
If he’d been standing, he would have fallen. Here? She was looking into his face, and he made himself meet her eyes. His heart pounded.
“Riley, would you like to see the journals?”
“Oh! Yes. I’d love to see the journals…thanks.”
“If you don’t have any other plans, you can come to my place when we’ve finished eating. What kind of business do we need to discuss?”
He gathered his senses. “State and federal regulators. Water-quality inspectors. Ladders and escape routes.”
“You really know about all that stuff?”
“I’m educating myself on the aspects of mining so I can advise you.”
“That’s as impressive as the wine.”
He filled her in on what the inspectors would be looking for the next day. “The rest can wait,” he told her.
“We’ve talked enough business this evening.”
She smiled. “I agree.”
Lisa’d had him figured out since day one. She took a swallow of the luscious wine and let the warm glow suffuse her insides and spread to her limbs. He’d been hell-bent on endearing himself to her, making his services indispensable, and truth be told, she didn’t mind all that much. She needed the know-how, experience and quick mind he had to offer. She didn’t mind the attention. But his ruse was so transparent, she’d have to be blindfolded in a dark, windowless room not to see it.
His surprise at her transformation was gratifying. More than gratifying. Delicious. She’d caught him off guard. Turned the tables on Mr. Cool. She was sure he’d intended to impress her with an expensive meal and this incredible wine and his charming company. But he’d been expecting to impress and win over the Lisa with the baggy clothing and the wild coils of hair, not this new and improved version.
She smiled to herself. Maybe he’d just have to try a little harder now. Seeing him give his all could prove…rewarding.
“What’s so amusing?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
He raised one ebony eyebrow in question.
“A girl can have her secrets, can’t she?” She chuckled at that because it sounded so ridiculous to her own ears. But her pathetic attempt at flirting must have been pretty good because he smiled, too, and his gaze traveled her face and hair in an altogether appreciative and intriguing way.
Lisa had been determined to break out of her timid, boring self and become someone confident and exciting. So far so good. She had him fooled, anyway.
What would someone named Lily Divine do if she was finally given the chance to stir things up with a man she’d had the hots for since adolescence? Okay, not the hots necessarily. Back then it had been an innocent unrequited yearning. Now it was the hots.
Well, someone confident like Lily would probably cast inhibition to the wind and grab opportunity with both fists. “Do you want dessert?” she asked.
“Do you?”
“I have brownies, ice cream and fudge topping at my place.”
A grin tilted his lips, drawing her attention to their shape. “More wine?”
The bottle was empty. She wanted to remember the rest of the evening. “Better not. I can’t feel my nose.”
He signaled to their waiter, signed for the check and accompanied her to the door.
It was full dark now, a luminous crescent moon bright in the summer sky. Riley placed his hand in the small of her back as they walked toward the car. The warmth of his touch suffused the fabric of her dress and ignited another glow inside her.
They reached the red Jaguar, and Lisa heard the whir of a camera. Riley had opened her door and she turned to face him, standing in the minimal space between his body and the interior. “Maybe my place isn’t such a good idea,” she said, and her disappointment was sincere. “I have to think about tomorrow’s headlines.”
“What about the ice cream? And the journals?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“I can lose those guys. And I know of someplace private.”
“Where?”
He leaned close so he couldn’t possibly be overheard. “I have a cabin outside town. No one except family knows about it.”
His whisper created goose bumps down her arms and across her shoulders. She looked up at him in the moonlight. “Then you’d better go back in and order dessert to go.”
A grin spread across his face and he ushered her onto the seat. He was only gone a few minutes. She’d seen the way the staff catered to him. They’d probably run for the dessert.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Chocolate-raspberry truffle sound all right?”
She groaned. Chocolate bribes were a no-fail tactic with a woman like her.
He chuckled and started the car.
Within minutes he’d led the news vans away from town and was driving north on Thunder Canyon Road. He sped up, signaled as though he was turning toward his ranch, then quickly turned off the headlights and traveled straight ahead.
“How can you see?” she asked.
“I know where I’m going.”
“You’d better tell me you can see. This is making me nervous.”
“Just a little farther and I’ll turn the lights back on.” He approached a row of trees, which must have been what he was looking for, turned onto a side road and stopped. He turned off the engine and got out.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m checking to make sure no one is following us.”
She had known him in high school. His family had been respected—as well as resented—in this town for over a hundred years. She didn’t think there’d been any serial killers in the Douglas line, but she probably should have checked before coming out in the wilderness with him.
He walked behind the car and returned after a few minutes. “Okay, we lost them.”
After turning the headlights back on, he drove back onto the road, traveled what she thought was north for another twenty or thirty minutes, then took a left turn and headed along a dirt road lined with trees and tall grass. A deer sprang out of the foliage, and Riley braked until the animal bounded from sight.
Lisa was lost now, couldn’t have found her way back alone, and she’d seen too many movies to not have a twinge of discomfort at her predicament. “Where are we?”
“Northwest of our ranch.”
Finally he drove into a clearing where a well and a couple of shingle-sided outbuildings stood. He pulled directly in front of double doors, then got out to open them, and Lisa peered into the garage-like structure. He drove in, turned off the engine and grabbed the carryout bag.
After locking the place, he led her up a lighted stairway.
“This is darker than the mine,” she said. She seemed willing to let this man take her anywhere. Why was that?
“We’ll be upstairs in a minute.” He took her hand, and most of her doubts dissolved at the warm, strong touch. Lily wouldn’t have had second thoughts about this adventure. Lisa wasn’t going to let cold feet put crazy thoughts in her head. At the top was a landing and another door, and he opened it, guiding her into a dark room.
Riley stretched her arm as he groped for something, and a moment later fluorescent lights came on.
Lisa blinked. They stood in a kitchen. A well-appointed kitchen with stainless-steel appliances, wood flooring and a pine table and chairs. The open floor plan revealed a living area with comfortable sofas and chairs and a stone fireplace. Probably not someplace a serial killer would take his victims. Besides, dozens of people had seen them together tonight and even more would see their pictures tomorrow. “This is your cabin?”
“It’s made of logs.”
So it was. “How can it be that no one knows this place is here? Who built it? And delivered the furniture?”
“I hired an out-of-state builder. Brought the furnishings in myself.”
“The appliances, too?”
“Remember me mentionin
g my financial advisor, Phil Wagner?”
“Yes.”
“He’s a friend. He helped. He uses the place whenever he wants.”
Money will buy just about anything, she thought to herself. Even respectability. Anonymity. “If I asked you to take me home right this minute, what would you say?”
“Before dessert?”
She grinned. She’d had to double-check, after all. “You have newfangled plumbing in this rustic place?”
“There’s a tiny bathroom in that hall right there, another bath through a suite of rooms you’ll see on your left.”
Size didn’t matter right this moment. She found the closest functional room and minutes later felt much better. In the maple-framed mirror Lisa studied a reflection she wasn’t used to confronting yet. Just seeing her new self reinforced her confidence. No wonder Riley looked at her differently. No wonder she felt so different. The new and improved Lisa was a force to be reckoned with. A chick with a life.
All the hard work that had gone into straightening her hair, selecting her clothing and putting together her new look had been worth the time and effort.
She wasn’t sitting home sharing snacks with her dogs tonight. As soon as that thought surfaced, she experienced a twinge of guilt. Sorry, boys. She really liked those nights, too. But tonight was her night to shine. Riley was sniffing out more than popcorn, and she was liking it.
Returning to the other room, she discovered Riley had softened the lighting and made coffee. Chocolate-raspberry truffle waited on two small white plates.
“I have a sauvignon dessert wine if you’d prefer,” he offered.
“No, the coffee smells really good.”
“Have a seat and I’ll pour us each a cup.”
He brought two mugs of steaming coffee and sat them on the low table.
Lisa savored her dessert, momentarily closing her eyes and indulging. “This is incredible. Have you had it before?”
“No.” He observed her with a mixture of awe and uncertainty that she took pleasure in knowing she inspired. One of the reasons she didn’t want to drink any more was that she already felt as if she was watching a bold new Lisa living her life. It was an odd feeling, but the impression was liberating. The times, they were a-changin’, and she had to catch up with them.
Million-Dollar Makeover Page 8
