“Bye.” I put my phone back in my purse as Ellen’s words echoed in my head.
Men can be so clueless.
Was it possible my dad and Jennifer were right and Paul had no idea I was in love with him? Wait . . . in love? No way. I mean, sure, I had strong feelings for him and, yeah, I melted whenever he touched me . . . but love?
Oh, no.
I picked up the phone to ring the driver. “Can you pull over to the curb right here, please?”
As soon as we stopped, I burst out of the limo and paced in front of some dance club. The loud music thrummed through the wall making my ears pound. Or maybe my ears were pounding because I’d just realized I was in love with Paul and had the first fleeting hope that he might love me back.
The limo driver stepped into my path. “Miss? Is everything all right?”
“No!” For once in my life I would not pretend everything was all right. “I’m in love with someone but I’m going on a date with another guy.”
The short and stocky driver furrowed his bushy brows. “Why don’t you just go out with the guy you’re in love with?”
I stared at this total stranger who made perfect sense. “Because I asked him out and he said no even though he rappelled down a building with me, opened up to me about his family, and kissed me like he never wanted to stop.”
He held his hand up. “Why did he say no then?”
There was the million dollar question. I threw my hands out. “I have no idea.”
He rubbed his chin. “Did you ask him?”
I stopped pacing and blinked. “No.”
He shrugged. “Well, then. Maybe you should?”
“You’re right.” I swallowed the mass of fear creeping up my throat. “I’ll do it. Let’s stay parked at the curb while I call.”
The driver opened the door for me, which seemed overly formal considering I’d just spilled my guts to him but I thanked him anyway. Then I pulled out my phone, found the familiar Southern California phone number, and dialed. My heart pounded in my chest but after four rings it went to voicemail: This is Paul. Leave a message.
A loud beep sounded in my ear. “It’s Kaitlin. I need to talk to you and it’s pretty urgent. Call me when you get this please.”
Adrenaline coursed through my veins and every second I waited for him to phone back felt like a thousand years. I should have opened up to him about how I felt a long time ago. Why hadn’t I? I’d been so focused on keeping it together and pretending his rejection was all right. Why?
My eyes narrowed and I punched my mom’s phone number.
She answered on the second ring and without the usual formalities. “I was hoping you wouldn’t call me until I’d calmed down.”
Until she’d calmed down? “What are you talking about?”
“You must know I’ve spoken with Alisha.” She tsk tsked into the phone like I was ten and hadn’t cleaned my room. “I’ve been trying to undo the damage you caused last night, but I’m afraid Brian is under the impression you’re not interested in him.”
My jaw tightened. “That’s because I’m not. I’m not going to waste his time when I’m in love with Paul.”
“The bartender?” She gasped. “You’re not thinking clearly, honey. I know canceling the wedding was upsetting, for all of us, but you’re not a teenager and can’t rebel like this.”
I guffawed. “When did I ever rebel as a teenager?”
“Need I bring up how you chose U.C. Berkeley over Stanford? I thought daddy would have to pick out my casket.”
“Cal is a great school!” I retorted, then realized we’d gotten slightly off track. “Mom, I’m done pretending anymore. Calling off the wedding was awful but I’m glad it happened. Besides the cheating part, he wasn’t right for me. I couldn’t open up to him and be myself the way I can with Paul.”
Silence.
“Paul is sweet and thoughtful and he makes me happy.” A huge weight lifted as I confessed everything to my mom. Like I’d been freed from chains and could just be myself now whether she liked it or not. “He’s a great bartender and a hard worker. He even fills in for staff members on their days off. Plus he moved to Sacramento to be close to his mom when his dad passed away. How sweet is that?”
Long pause. “Well, I could never approve of someone who wasn’t kind to his mother.”
I shook my head. “Did you say approve?”
She sighed. “I can’t say I understand your choices but I survived Berkeley, didn’t I?”
I burst of laughter escaped. “Thanks, Mom.”
When I hung up the phone, it suddenly seemed twice as urgent to tell Paul how I felt about him. I dialed his number.
This is Paul. Leave a message.
The beep went off in my ear. “It’s me again. I can’t meet your friend Milton. I’m sorry. Please call me.”
Oh, man. I’d just blown date number five. All bets were off the table now. I was going for it with Paul and nothing was going to stop me. I racked my brain trying to figure out why he wouldn’t answer his cell when I knew he was at work. Duh. He was at work. I pulled up a search engine on my phone, got the number for the Geoffries hotel, and tapped them into my keypad.
My hands shook as I held the phone to my ear and I knew I’d never been this nervous in my life. “Hi, I’d like to speak with Paul. He’s one of your employees and it’s really important.”
“I’m sorry, we don’t have a Paul who works here,” the man said.
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, you do. I’ve seen him there numerous times. He’s the bartender.”
“Ma’am, we don’t have a bartender named Paul.”
I gripped my phone. “Then how did he serve me drinks Monday night in your lounge? And why did I see him Wednesday night covering for Manuel at the concierge desk?”
Don’t ask me how I remembered Manuel. I’m totally bad with names.
The man paused a moment and I heard him speaking to someone in the background. “Oh, I apologize. I didn’t realize you meant Paul Geoffries. I was just told he filled in for Manuel Wednesday night.”
Geoffries? What the . . . ?
My mouth fell open. “Did you just say Paul Geoffries?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s making a speech right now at our Black & White Ball, but I can take a message for him if you’d like.”
My face went numb. “No, thanks.”
I pressed the END button then dropped my hands onto my lap and stared at my white satin dress that was glowing in the darkness of the limo. There must be some mistake. My Paul couldn’t be Paul Geoffries because that would mean he owned the hotel. Not possible. He was too young and the Geoffries hotels have been around forever. . . .
Although Paul’s father had recently passed away. No, this was crazy. I pulled up a search engine just to prove how silly the concept was and that the front desk person had to be wrong. When the prompt pulled up, I typed in: Paul Geoffries, hotel, Sacramento, CA.
I clicked on the first article, which was from the Sacramento Social Scene website.
Triple S has great news for all the single ladies in our fair town—bad boy Paul Geoffries is back on the Sacramento Social Scene. After hot hook-ups this year with Tiffany Heart, lead singer of Street Knights, and Hollywood glamazon, Virna DiAngelo, this trust fund bachelor is back on the prowl. So have fun ladies, be safe, but hold onto your hearts as this bad boy isn’t likely to settle down any time soon!
Stunned, I paused for a minute then searched: Paul Geoffries, Hollywood.
Clicking on the first article, I read: After a high-profile break-up with actress Virna DiAngelo, it’s more tears for bad boy Paul Geoffries. We’ve just learned that hotel magnate, Milton P. Geoffries Senior, died peacefully in his Granite Bay home Saturday night with his wife, Irene Geoffries, by his side. The hotel chain is still privately owned, which means Mr. Geoffries’ billion-dollar business will now be run by his wife and son. Funeral arrangements have yet to be announced and the family is requesting that the media respect their privac
y during this difficult time.
Tears burned my eyes as I thought about how crushed Paul had been by his dad’s passing. Moments later I realized that Milton P. Geoffries Senior meant that there had to be a Milton P. Geoffries Junior. Paul had set up my date number five with himself? Why? It had to be part of his elaborate scheme. Some kind of joke. . . .
That bad boy had played me like a fool, getting his kicks off making me believe he was a bartender and acting like his discount on patio tiles was some big thing. Money was nothing to him. He was rolling in it and my poor budget must’ve given him a great laugh.
I’d been deceived. Again. But this time hurt a thousand times worse.
Wind chimes tingled and my cell lit up with that Southern California phone number. That Hollywood phone number. Anger coursed through me and I pressed ANSWER then held the phone to my ear. “Hello, Milton.”
Pause. “Are you here, Kaitlin? I’m heading outside.”
I noted the strain in his normally confident tone. “Don’t bother. I’m not there and I’m not coming.”
“Sweetheart, let me explain. . .”
My eyes narrowed at that term of endearment. “Congratulations on winning your game. You completely fooled me. What’s the fun for next week? Making some naive woman believe you’re the front desk clerk?”
“Kaitlin, I—”
“Save it, Milton.” My jaw quivered as hot tears escaped down my cheeks. “I don’t want to hear another word from your lying mouth ever again.”
Call Ended.
My throat tightened and my chest ached like a balloon about to explode. Gasping, I grabbed a napkin and crumpled my face into it. Shoulders shaking, I fought to control my sobs, to make it appear that everything was all right like I used to be able to do—but the sobs rippled out one after another with no end in sight.
Chapter Ten
I’d been played. Big time. I threw myself down on my couch, yanked a throw pillow into my lap, and squeezed the soft cushion senseless as I stared at the ceiling. Why had Paul come into my life and toyed with me like that? And what was with him hanging with me all week long? He had everything. He’d even dated Virna DiAngelo! I gave a pathetic laugh, remembering how I’d immediately dismissed her as his ex. Yeah, the joke had definitely been on me.
My doorbell chimed an old-fashioned ding dong and I peeked between the window blinds and saw a silver truck parked at the curb. I pushed to my feet slowly, then peered through the keyhole. Frowning, I pulled open the door.
Paul stood on my front porch looking so unbelievably handsome in his black tux and white tie that he took my breath away. His dark tousled hair made his electric blue eyes stand out and I was reminded of my vision of him coming toward me in a tux. My forehead creased. But I’d envisioned Paul. Not Milton Geoffries.
Putting a hand on my hip, I said, “Isn’t it considered rude for the host to leave his own ball?”
He reached for me. “Kaitlin. . .”
I immediately stepped back. “Please leave.”
“Not until you hear me out.” Unfortunately, the wide space gave him the perfect opportunity to push past me and he shut the door pinning me against it. He cupped my face in his hands. “I was going to tell you everything tonight.”
Gazing up into his eyes made me want to melt against him. “I don’t believe you.”
He ran his thumbs over my cheeks. “I never lied to you about who I was.”
Twisting away from him, I scoffed. “Okay, Milton.”
“The name is part of who I am, yes. But I go by Paul.” His eyes peered into mine. “I’m the same person you met. Nothing’s changed.”
I stared at him incredulously. “I thought you were a bartender.”
He started to take a step toward me until my frown deepened, then he slipped his hands into his pockets and stopped. “I’m a bartender, the concierge, and every other job that comes with having a hotel chain. My dad started the Geoffries from the ground up. When he left it to me, I knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps. I work every position to learn the business from the inside out.”
That sounded so . . . practical. Not to mention down to earth. Especially for a Hollywood bad boy. “You hooked up with Tiffany Heart from Street Knights.”
He shook his head. “An absolute rumor. She’s a friend from my college days at U.C. Santa Barbara, but we’ve never been together.”
I tilted my head. “You did date Virna DiAngelo, though.”
He held his hand up. “I told you about Virna.”
I crossed my arms. “She’s not just any ex. She’s a movie star.”
“I enjoyed the L.A. scene for awhile.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Then my dad got sick and I realized what was important in life. Virna’s a wonderful person, but I didn’t want to spend my life with her.”
My head spun. “Every guy wants to spend his life with Virna. She’s gorgeous.”
His brows came together. “You think that’s all I need?”
I shrugged. “I obviously wasn’t good enough for you. You turned me down.”
“I turned you down for date number four.” His stance shifted then he stepped toward me slowly as if gauging my reaction. When I didn’t retreat, he came even closer until we stood just a foot apart. “Kaitlin, I want to be with you. I set myself up as date number five because I plan to be the last date you ever have.”
Butterflies danced in my belly, but I pressed my fingers to my temples and shook my head. “I don’t know what to believe.”
He closed the distance between us and tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “Just before my dad died, he told me he was going to leave me his legacy. When I thought he meant the hotel chain, he chuckled.”
I imagined the same chuckle I’d heard Paul make so many times and wondered if Milton had the same blue eyes.
“He told me he meant my mom—that she was the greatest wealth of his life.” He fingered the long red strands resting on my shoulder. “That’s when I realized what was important. It’s not living on the Hollywood circuit or attending exclusive parties. It’s about finding a connection with someone and holding onto it until your very last breath.”
My eyes widened as I stared up into those sapphire blues that had darkened, deep and intense. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I’d been promised the world before. “Those are beautiful words, Paul. But I’ve read a lot of words about you today and many of them included the words ‘bad boy.’”
He tilted his head and gave me a side-glance. “Are you talking about the tabloids?”
I put my palm to my forehead. “The article said—”
“They’re not interested in the truth, Kaitlin—just selling as many of their rags as possible in any way they can.” He lifted my hands. “You know that. You know me.”
Hotel chains. Private jets. Movie stars. This was definitely not the Paul I knew.
My hands tingled where he held them, but I shook my head. “I don’t know you. I thought I did, but then I found out you’re someone else.”
A pained expression crossed his face. “I’ve opened up to you more than I have to anyone, Kaitlin. That’s all I can do.”
“It’s not enough.” My chest ached as I finally realized the truth. This man in front of me was not who he had appeared to be. He’d deceived me. “I’ve done what you asked and heard you out. Now, please go.”
Those blue eyes pierced mine and seemed to plead with me until I finally turned away. Then I heard his footsteps as they crossed the floor, the door squeaked open slowly, and it clicked shut.
Biting my lip, I swung around and stared at the back of the door. Paul was gone. Or Milton. Or whoever he was. My chest went hollow, pain sliced my gut, and it felt like the scars he’d left behind would never heal.
I told myself I’d been fine on my own before and I would be again. Only, it didn’t feel that way. I glanced toward my kitchen at the half-empty bottle of wine and before I knew it I was pouring myself a glass. I needed to go to my happy place and need
ed to make it mine again.
As I passed the wall in the kitchen where Kristen had ripped off that rooster wallpaper, I suddenly realized something. Kristen’s call from the Geoffries about an opening for her ballroom wedding six weeks from now had been no coincidence. Paul had arranged it.
My heart melted a little, but I took a deep breath and reminded myself that was just money. And Milton was rolling in it.
Holding my wine glass, I slipped open the living room slider, and my heels sank into the lawn as I crossed my backyard. As I walked, Paul’s words echoed through my head and I wanted to believe them. Especially the part about finding the connection between us, because I felt it too. But words were easy to come by. So were limos and fancy white dresses when you had more money than you’d ever need.
My eyes burned and the railroad-tie steps blurred in front of me, and I thought about turning back. My heart told me that Paul’s words were the truth, but my head told me I’d been burned before. A war waged inside me between what I knew in my heart and what I feared with my head. Then at the bottom of the steps, I looked up and froze.
I stared wide-eyed at my happy place, a tear spilling down my cheek as chills vibrated through me. Instead of dead grass and dirt, a patio of terra-cotta tiles splayed out before me. My heels clicked against the tiles as I stepped forward, gaping in awe. The Adirondack chairs and beverage table had been stained the perfect shade of blue, reminding me of the ocean in Kauai. In addition to all I’d planned, there was also a border running around the patio with bushes of colorful flowers that had a tropical look about them, and through the center lay a tiled pathway to the water.
My first thought was that Paul had hired someone to make my dream come true. But then I remembered lunch with my dad. Paul had showed up last minute, freshly showered, and with paint smeared on the side of his jaw. Blue paint.
Paul had done this himself. For me.
A twig snapped behind me and a crack echoed across the quiet night. I spun around, then nearly spilled my wine because there he stood on the first railroad tie. I wanted to say something, throw my arms around him, but I felt too stunned to do anything but blink through watery eyes. I watched him approach me.
License to Date (Better Date than Never) Page 10
