Her cheeks billowed as her chest heaved a little, and just when he thought she was having some sort of panic attack she let out a burst of laughter so loud it startled him.
“Yes, taking away the roses completely tones down the whole catered-lunch-on-a-private-beach motif.” She burst with laughter again, her cheeks and eyes filling with humor. It was infectious. James couldn’t help himself from laughing along with her.
Suddenly there was a lightness to her countenance again, and she was still laughing even after he held out her seat for her before taking his place across the table from her.
“You’re going to be feeding me bon bons in a bubble bath for dessert, aren’t you?”
“Imported chocolate from Europe actually,” he replied jokingly.
“Oh my god, you are just like your daughter!” Her eyes rolled to the heavens but she kept laughing. “Do you know that she eats sandwiches made from homemade bread and cheese she procures from an artisanal shop?”
“Yes, I did know that,” he laughed. His heart soared with pride at the mention of Frankie. “She brings some home to me every time she comes to visit. She and Celine have already started scouting out new food places to try in L.A.”
Natalie’s laughter quieted some, but her smile remained.
A third man wearing a chef’s jacket and hat approached them, a pleasant smile on his face. “Good afternoon Mister Fitzgerald, Miss Harlow. My name is Scott, I am the executive chef of The Boathouse on Hendry’s Beach.” He extended his hand first to Natalie and then James, shaking both with a smile.
“Pleasure to meet you, Scott,” James greeted.
The chef turned to Natalie and handed her a menu. “Mister Fitzgerald has tasked me with the pleasure of creating a special menu in your honor, Miss Harlow. Everything you see here has been created just for today’s occasion, and is cooked to order. When you’re ready let me know what you’d like, and in the meantime,” he paused to wave towards one of the attendants in white shirts, “we have an excellent selection of wines for you to choose from.” Both attendants appeared carrying a large metal trough filled with ice and bottles of various wines, all white. “All of the wine is local from the surrounding cities of Solvang, Buellton and Lompoc, and of course Santa Barbara.”
“Mmm.” Natalie grinned as she browsed the menu. “What would pair well with the crab cakes?”
“Very good!” the chef praised her. “A crisp sauvignon blanc or riesling would do quite well.”
“Riesling, definitely,” she nodded.
“For me, too,” James nodded.
“Excellent. I’ll begin those crab cakes for you, Miss Harlow. Enjoy.”
The second attendant poured them each a generous glass of wine before disappearing out of sight in the makeshift kitchen.
“How is Celine doing by the way?” Natalie asked before taking a sip of her wine.
It could have been the most awkward moment of the whole day, second only to the conversation they’d had shortly before stopping at Starbucks. But there was an earnestness in her face that told him she was sincere, though not entirely without pain.
“She’s doing well,” James nodded. “Not terribly thrilled to be moving given…-“ he broke off. There was a knowing look on Natalie’s face, but her smile and the small flick of her eyebrows encouraged him to continue. “Given her condition,” he finished.
“Do you know the gender?”
“It’s a boy.”
Natalie nodded solemnly before taking another large sip from her wine. He could only imagine how difficult it was for her to ask the question, let alone hear the answer.
“Have any names picked out?”
“Celine is leaning towards William. She says it’s very regal sounding.”
Natalie shrugged and made a soft hmmm noise. “I like Oliver.”
“Me too.”
They stared at each other a moment, eyes locked and their thoughts presumably the same. James again fought the urge to reach out and touch her in some way; a tender hand on hers or to sweep his thumb across her temple. No matter how intimate they had become while in a relationship together, breaking up took with it the freedom to merely reach out and feel the other person. He clenched his hands tightly together before picking up the menu the chef had placed on his side of the table.
“So what looks good for lunch?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Natalie had a sneaking suspicion that James was not quite done with the surprises for the day. After an amiable lunch where they’d caught up on the pleasantries of each other’s lives for the past few months - his included work, divorce and Frankie while hers were essentially just work and adjusting to the lifestyle changes it produced. She had no idea how he could manage to top the drive up in the Buggatti Veyron and the private seaside lunch, but they were climbing up the hills of Montecito well enough above the freeway that she knew he was taking her somewhere.
The tony streets of the city only increased in price the further they drove, the homes crawling backwards from their private access roads to discourage anyone unwanted from trampling upon the emerald lawns of the multi-million dollar properties. She couldn’t even imagine how people lived with so much space. She had more than enough to contend with in the condo she called both work and home with her two best friends.
“Have you heard that there’s a house somewhere nearby that has all these beautiful gardens full of rare plants in it?”
“Oh yeah. LotusLand, right?”
“That’s it.” Natalie’s eyes swept over each house as they passed by, wondering if any one of them was the place she spoke of. “The owner was a Polish opera singer whose love life was famed and heavily discussed in society. She had half a dozen husbands and twice as many dalliances with ridiculous spiritual religions. Anyway, she and one of her husbands buy the house as a refuge for Tibetan llamas, or something, and start building gardens on the premises. She builds and builds for years, even selling her jewelry to pay for more plants for her gardens. Eventually she dies and a foundation in her name continues on her work.”
“She sounds like a very interesting woman,” James commented softly.
“Yeah. Imagine if she had put as much effort into her love life as she did her gardens.”
The car turned onto one of the access roads labelled with a sign indicating it was for private use only, and followed down a tree-lined path that curved gently around a massive lawn. In the distance of the seemingly vast property was what appeared to be a tennis court, its walls speckled with climbing vines, and beyond that a sparkling azure pool.
James slowed the car as they approached an old wrought iron gate that bisected the road. When they came to a complete stop he rolled down his window and punched a series of numbers into a security post. The doors began to open immediately, more trees and cubed hedges awaiting them on the other side.
The road took them to a circular driveway dotted in the center with an impressive fountain. But it was the structure to Natalie’s left that caught her attention: a two story Spanish-style villa that elbowed around them, luscious greenery planted thoughtfully throughout the sandstone- and terra cotta-colored mansion. James killed the engine to the Buggatti and the car was suddenly filled with quiet.
Both her heart and stomach fluttered at frightening speed within her. Her brain registered the familiarity of the situation almost immediately. He’d done this once before.
She and Quinn had taken a trip to Las Vegas to celebrate Natalie’s promotion at work, neither of them knowing that the luxury hotel they stayed at was owned by none other than her Gentleman Twelve, the man who had bid on her that night five months prior at The Golden Palm. By the time she realized who he was - and that he was there watching her - she had found out more about him than she could have imagined. The man who’d bid six figures for a night with her had a name, a wife, a child and so much more. Their reunion was as passionate as their first night together, and it was James who insisted they not say goodbye that time. Days later, at
her rather silly and emotional insistence that he stop living out of suitcases and buy himself an actual home, he brought her to a home in the hills of Los Angeles with the intent to buy. That plan, like their relationship, also fell apart.
The estate that dominated the land around them was not anything like the house in the hills. It wasn’t merely a house, but a declaration of wealth and intent. It was not the home of a single man but of the first generation of a family yet to come.
James was the first to speak.
“I wasn’t going to show you this place yet,” he started, speaking quietly. “In fact I can’t show you most of it. At least, not today.”
Natalie swallowed deliberately with the hope of moistening the dryness that had overtaken her mouth and throat. “Why are we here, James?”
He looked up to his left, eyes cast upon the Eastern-facing front of the home. “Because I want to tell you about the second floor terrace off the master bedroom.”
The quickening beat of Natalie’s heart reverberated inside her chest in bursts of pressure that she could feel in every part of her. “Okay…”
“This house and the land its built on is called Villa Montecito, and as far as dream homes go it sets the bar quite high. You couldn’t want for anything here. Eight bedrooms. Ten bathrooms. Two bedroom guest house. Pool. Pool house. Tennis court. More than I can even list in one breath. All of it on three and a half acres of land with the most beautiful views money can buy, the best of which are on the second floor terrace off the master bedroom.”
Natalie looked at the short balcony hanging high above the gated front door and tried to imagine where on the property this other balcony was. Indeed, it all looked like something out of a fantasy. Real people didn’t live in places like Villa Montecito, surely.
“From up there you can see almost the entire property as it stretches out toward the horizon and ends just below the line where the Pacific ocean meets the sky. Of all the property I own and the places I’ve visited, there is nowhere that can even touch the beauty of that terrace or the land it overlooks.”
Natalie slipped her sunglasses off her face and turned her attention again to James, whose own attention was still on the dreamy edifice. “Why are you telling me all of this?” Her voice came out in a tremble, but she hoped it was too soft to notice.
“Because on Thursday I made an offer on Villa Montecito, and yesterday the owners accepted it. In less than thirty days this house will be mine, and when I have the key in my hand I’m going to bring you here. I’m going to take you up to that second-floor terrace-” James turned to look at Natalie, his blue-green eyes burning with an intensity that could render her speechless. He never looked more determined, more sure of anything in his life. “And I’m going to ask you to marry me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Hey, you’re back,” Joe greeted Natalie from his makeshift desk at the dining room table as she stepped through the front door of their shared home/office. The windows were wide open to the fading late autumn sky outside, darkness imminent. She felt like she was returning from another life completely. “How was lunch?”
"It was nice,” she responded quietly as she joined him at the table. The car ride home from Montecito was long and quiet. What was she supposed to say to the man who told that her in thirty days he would be asking her to marry him? What could she say? She was stunned, and the purring of the Bugatti’s engine was their only companion on the return trip. Their goodbye was awkward but brief, and Natalie was happy to be away from him to give her mind time to process everything.
Joe eyed her curiously. Even in the few short months they’d partnered together in both business and home life Joe had come to know her pretty well, and she him. There was an easiness to being around him, and Natalie appreciated that quality on more than one occasion. But she couldn’t talk to him about James and his startling revelation that afternoon.
“Where’s Quinn?”
“San Diego. She said she’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ugh. We have so much work to do,” Natalie groaned.
“Says the girl who left for half the day to go have lunch with her ex-boyfriend,” Joe ribbed her. He was right. And it was the weekend after all.
“What are you working on?” She peaked around the open lid of his laptop to attempt a glance at the screen.
“Staff restructuring ideas. Boring stuff,” he dismissed with a shake of his head. “We can talk about it when Quinn returns.”
Natalie made a soft humming noise and looked around the condo, searching for some form of inspiration. She had no desire to work but was too tired to leave home and go anywhere. All she wanted was distraction. Her problems would still be her problems tomorrow.
“I don’t suppose you want to order takeout and watch movies all night?” Joe's raised eyebrows were accompanied by his surprised smile. She tried for a nonchalant shrug. "Unless you've got plans tonight?"
"Uh, no. No plans," he said. "What do you feel like?"
Natalie expelled a loud breath as she leaned back into her chair, eyes casting up at the ceiling for inspiration. "Something unhealthy. You decide. I'm going to take a quick rinse off."
"Pizza it is," he called after her as she ran upstairs to her bathroom suite. She quickly typed out a text to Quinn wishing she was there and needing to talk before jumping into the shower and getting momentarily lost in the hot spray of water, imagining the events of the day rinsing away from her body and down the drain. If only it were that simple. When she was clean she donned a pair of cream colored silk shorts with lace trim and an oversized tee shirt that was as soft as thousand-thread count sheets. Her phone pinged with a reply message from Quinn just as she headed down the stairs.
'Quinn: Celebrating w/a friend from college who just got engaged. Will be back tomorrow for details and drinks!'
It was just as well. Natalie tossed her phone onto the couch and went to the kitchen in search of wine. She pulled a bottle of chilled moscato out from the fridge in time with the doorbell ringing.
"Pizza's here!" she called out into the living space towards wherever Joe was. That was fast. She must have taken a longer shower than she thought.
"I ordered carryout," Joe yelled from the direction of the loft bar.
Natalie opened the door and came face-to-face with Audra.
"Hey!" She greeted, trying not to show her surprise. "I thought we were going to get together on Monday?"
"We are," Audra said through her usual cool smile. Her eyes swept down the length of Natalie's body, lingering at her mostly bare legs before coming back up to her gaze again. "I'm here in an official capacity."
Natalie flushed at the visual assessment and the glint in Audra's eyes that followed. "Come in. I thought maybe you were the pizza delivery."
"Sorry to disappoint you," Audra joked as she crossed the threshold and followed Natalie into the kitchen. Joe descended the stairs from the loft two at a time and threw a skeptical smile Audra's way when he saw her.
"Audra. To what do we owe the pleasure?" He, too, gave Natalie a quick once-over. She might have second guessed her choice of clothing if it weren't for the fact that she was in her own home about to enjoy a rare evening off.
Audra set her expensive purse down onto the marble island and helped herself to a barstool. "It's about The Golden Palm. Natalie I assume you've filled Joe in on some of the finer aspects of the place?"
"I did." Natalie poured herself a glass of wine before grabbing for two more glasses. "Though as you know my sole experience is from the perspective of a Candidate."
Audra nodded. "Of course. But you have to agree it does give you a rather interesting advantage. You and Quinn both. I want you to use that."
"Use that how?"
"I'd like for you to present your ideas for the anniversary celebration to us at The Golden Palm. It will provide a much more appropriate setting than our offices at Fitson. Since Joe has never seen the place before I thought a private tour first would be helpf
ul."
"We'd be happy to," Joe interjected, looking quite like an excited child finding out he's been invited to play at his favorite toy store. "When did you have in mind?"
"I'd like you to present something Friday night and, if your schedule permits, come for a tour on Tuesday."
"Was this James' idea, or yours?" Natalie asked. Both Audra and Joe turned to look at her, but she only kept her eyes on Audra.
"Ours for the proposal. Mine for the tour. I think, given the nature of the club itself, after hours would be the most ideal. The four of us can sit down for dinner as well so we can answer any questions you may have."
"Sounds great!" Joe beamed. His eyes scrunched together when he looked to Natalie. "Red?"
Natalie forced a smile and a deep inhale of breath. "I think it sounds great," she concurred.
"Great," Audra emphasized the word with a smile. "We can lock in a time when you come into the office on Monday. Your offices are being furnished even as we speak. James insisted on having everything ready for you to use as soon as possible."
So this was how it was going to be from now on: Natalie back in James' orbit whether she was ready for it or not. Maybe taking on the entire Fitson account was a bad idea? The Golden Palm anniversary party was a singular event, but the whole of Fitson was a massive undertaking, one requiring a near-constant presence at Fitson. She couldn't help but wonder if the offer was made in the first place because of James' desire to be close to her and not because of her talent. It wouldn't be the first time she had such a doubt. And of course Audra had her reasons...
Natalie did her own assessment of Audra Robertson as she chatted politely with Joe. She was dressed immaculately as usual, black knee-high boots over black leather leggings and a swishy black chiffon blouse. Natalie wondered if she ever just wore a tee shirt and shorts. If she did they were likely designer as well. Audra didn't do cheap and cheerful.
Beyond Ruin (Book Four of the Bidden Series) Page 8
