It Had To Be You

by Francis Ray

  Laurel had managed to escape him.

  Later that night, on the balcony of his house, Zachary stood with a bourbon glass in his hand and gazed out at the sprawling lights of Los Angeles below. He’d purchased the home a couple of years ago for the view and the isolation. Sometimes he needed to get away, and Cliff House, as he’d come to call his home, allowed him to do just that.

  He needed both tonight. He’d been a few feet away from Laurel and hadn’t been able to talk with her. No one probably had. He didn’t think it was because her two scary bodyguards would deter a real autograph hound.

  The mere fact that she had bodyguards should have put the media and the autograph seekers on full alert. That hadn’t happened. Her last album, as had all the rest, might have gone platinum, but her audience wasn’t the screaming, in-your-face type wanting you to sign their bodies.

  He had nothing against his fans. They just expressed their pleasure in different ways. Pity. Laurel might be snobbish, but her music deserved to be heard by the masses.

  And she thought him beneath her. Just as his own father had. Zach’s hand clenched the glass. His father had called the hip-hop and pop music he produced “useless noise.”

  Having a man you looked up to dismiss your passion, hurt. They’d never managed to get past their differences. At the time of his father’s death, they were still estranged.

  Perhaps that was one of the reasons Zachary wanted to produce Laurel’s next album. His father had loved classical music. Oddly, it was her music that soothed and touched Zach more than anything else after his father’s death.

  Zachary had been working late one night—at least trying to—when he’d heard the haunting sound of a violin. He’d looked up from the keyboard to the large-screen TV he’d forgotten he had on.

  Her dark head was bent, her eyes half closed, her lips slightly parted as if held in the grip of passion. He’d risen and walked closer to the fiftytwo-inch screen and just stood there, mesmerized by the sounds she seemed to effortlessly coax from her instrument. She was a stunning combination of cool beauty and gut-wrenching passion. Her black hair was drawn away from a knockout face with ice-pick cheekbones, full lips, and a dainty nose. Her floor-length ball gown had been eye-popping red.

  He’d reached for the remote control and hit RECORD, chastising himself for being so slow to react. Once her segment was over he’d booted up his computer, found her Web site, and purchased all seven of her albums. They were good, but he’d always felt that she had held back. He suspected that, like many musical artists, Laurel performed better in front of a live audience. Her producer should have understood and worked to get her to bring that same incredible fire to the studio.

  The idea of him being that producer had taken root when he’d read that she had rented a home in LA to work on her next album. But she wanted nothing to do with him. He sipped his drink. Somehow, some way, he’d change her mind. Like Oscar said, a no didn’t deter him.

  Behind Zachary, the phone on his nightstand rang. Ice cubes clinked against the crystal as he sipped his iced tea. In the old, foolish days he’d let everyone believe it was bourbon. Those days of trying to fit in or impress people were long gone. Now people tried to impress him.

  Except one beautiful woman.

  “Hello, Zachary. You didn’t return my call last week. I really need to talk to you. Call me.”

  Zachary took another sip and thought about dumping his tea and adding the real deal. These days Carmen could try the patience of a saint. She was too clingy, too needy, and perpetually in a funky mood. A lifetime ago she had tossed the engagement ring he’d bought her back in his face and stomped on his pride with her stiletto heels. He’d been just out of college and ready to conquer the world. She’d given him a fast reality check.

  They had been lovers for six months. He’d thought she loved him as much as he loved her, and would gladly follow him to LA. He was wrong. She thought he was crazy for planning to go off on his own and leave his privileged life behind. She had no intention of going with him and be bored or do without while he tried to start a music career.

  Carmen hadn’t left her name on the answering machine, wouldn’t have thought she had to. At thirty, beautiful, willful, pampered—she would hate the more accurate word, spoiled—she thought the world revolved around her. Her older husband and the fluctuating economy were giving her a reality check of her own.

  The word in their circle of friends in Atlanta was that Carmen wasn’t adjusting well to her husband’s financial woes. They’d moved to a smaller home, let their house staff go, were down to two cars instead of five, and were no longer members of the country club. Since her parents, who had always catered to their only child, had invested in her husband’s business ventures, they were in the same sinking boat.

  Zach and Carmen had met again at a party when he’d gone home for Christmas. They hadn’t seen each other since that night. She’d tearfully apologized for her behavior and begged him to forgive her. Because he’d long since moved on and was happy with life, he didn’t see any reason to hold a grudge.

  She’d asked for his phone number to keep in touch and, because she’d looked so miserable, kept dabbing at the tears in her eyes, and was so unlike the fun-loving woman he once wanted to marry, he’d given it to her. Since then she’d called every couple of weeks. He usually called her back the next day, but he wasn’t in the mood to hear again how unfair life was. He probably shouldn’t have given her his new number.

  He had his own sob story.

  The answering machine clicked on. If that was Carmen again, he really was getting bourbon.

  “Hi, Zach. I just called to say I love you and bug you about visiting us again.”

  Zachary turned at the animated sound of his younger sister’s voice. These days each time he heard Paige’s voice, she sounded happier than the last time. Marriage and Shane Elliott agreed with her. He moved toward the phone.

  “Mother is coming for the weekend again.” Bright laughter drifted over the answering machine. “She lives ten minutes away, but Shane insists that she stay over. She’s helping us design the garden rooms. Shane and I both like having her around.”

  Zach picked up the phone, his mouth curving into a smile. “Hi, Sunshine.”

  “Hi, yourself. When are you coming for a real visit?”

  “I was just there for Christmas,” he reminded her as he walked back onto the terrace.

  “It’s April, Zach,” she told him. “You work too hard.”

  “I haven’t been to the studio in weeks,” he admitted.

  “Are you all right? Is anything the matter?” she asked, worry creeping into her voice.

  “Fine,” he quickly assured her. For as long as he could remember, music had been a part of his life. He ate, slept, and dreamed music. His near obsession was one of the many reasons he and his father hadn’t gotten along.

  “This is your sister who watched you master instrument after instrument, the sister who you first told you were going to Juilliard instead of Stanford as Father wanted because you couldn’t imagine a life without music,” Paige reminded him. “Come clean. Or do I have to ask Shane to find the answer for me?”

  Zach shook his head at the new assertive Paige. She had come into her own since Shane. He straightened as a thought struck. “Is Shane as good an investigator as you think?” he asked.

  “He’s the best or he wouldn’t have been head of security for Blade Navarone or so quickly made a name for himself with his own firm here in Atlanta,” she said proudly. “So talk.”

  “It’s a woman,” he began slowly, wondering how to explain without sounding as if he’d gone around the bend.

  “You’ve finally fallen in love,” Paige said, excitement ringing in her voice.

  “No, no,” he quickly said. He wasn’t going down that dead-end road again. “Nothing like that. Laurel Raineau is a concert violinist, one of the best in my opinion, and I’ve been trying to get her to let me produce her next album. But I’m h
itting a stone wall in trying to talk to her. She left this afternoon on an international flight.”

  “You won’t need Shane for this,” Paige said.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Laurel’s sister, Sabra, is married to Pierce Grayson. Pierce is Sierra’s brother and, as you know, she’s married to Blade. You met Sierra and Blade at my wedding. He and Rio were Shane’s best men. Rio has been head of Blade’s personal and professional security since Shane resigned, but he, Blade, and Shane are still best friends.”

  Zach placed his drink on the stone-topped table to massage his temple. “I’m trying to follow you.”

  She laughed. “I heard Shane laughing and talking to Blade about Rio’s temporary assignment and, although you can’t tell what he’s thinking, they knew he hadn’t liked it one bit. It had something to do with Laurel. I’ll ask Shane if he knows where she is.”

  “Could you please?” Zach said. “For a town where nothing is a secret, no one seems to know her location.”

  “Rio’s doing. I can’t imagine anyone with an ounce of sense wanting to go against or anger him,” Paige said.

  “I seem to remember at your wedding rehearsal, you standing toe-to-toe with him,” Zach said. He’d thought he’d have to rescue her. Instead Rio had dipped his head in acceptance and walked away.

  “Oh, that,” Paige said in a dismissive tone. “He knows I love Shane, so we’re all right. Like Shane and Blade, he’s fiercely loyal. No matter what’s going on, they manage to get together every month or so. It’s kind of hectic, scheduling it around all of our jobs, but since Sierra and I don’t want to be left behind, we manage. We promised when we married that we would never be apart at night. Blade and Sierra made the same promise.”

  That was the close, can’t-do-without-you way marriages should be, Zach thought. His parents never had that kind of relationship. His father spent a lot of nights away from home, but his mother never complained. She was the most incredible woman in the world and, no matter what, she was always there for him and Paige, cheering them on, encouraging them. She was proud of him and took every opportunity to tell him.

  “You have powerful friends.” Blade Navarone was a billionaire, and word on the street was that neither he nor any of his family or friends was to be messed with. Shane and Rio received the same wide-eyed deference.

  “I just think of them as friends.”

  That was Paige, unselfish, loyal, and down-to-earth. She hadn’t had many friends growing up, but she had certainly made up for it since.

  “Hold on, Shane is in his study.”

  Zach paced as he waited. In a matter of seconds she was back.

  “Laurel is at Navarone Riviera Maya, Blade’s private resort in Playa del Carmen. She’s staying in one of the luxury condos Blade decided to keep for friends and family who wanted to visit,” Paige told her brother.

  “Thank you. That’s a four-hour plane ride from here,” Zachary said. “I’ll call my travel agent and see if she can get me a flight out ASAP. A hotel might be more of a problem.”

  “No, it won’t. It’s already taken care of,” Paige said. “I asked Shane if there were any other vacancies there. As one of the perks, Shane and now Rio have a place to stay at all of Blade’s properties while they check on security. Shane is going to call Rio, but he’s sure it’s all right if you use the house, a cottage, at the back of Blade’s estate.”

  Zach laughed out loud. “Little sister to the rescue.”

  “You’ve always been there for me,” she said with meaning. “It’s about time I returned the favor.”

  “You have, countless times in the past,” Zach told her. She’d tried so hard to mend the rift between him and their father, often at the expense of their father getting upset with her. She’d idolized their father, and those confrontations were always hard on her. He’d finally told her to stop trying. “Please tell Shane thanks.”

  “I will,” she said. “I love Laurel’s music. I’ve never heard her in person, but I know of her, and of course her famous Broadway sister, Sabra. I’ve yet to meet Sabra or Pierce. They were in New York when Shane and I flew to Santa Fe last month to meet Blade and Rio for one of their meetings.”

  “Laurel is beautiful, brilliant, and elusive,” Zach said. “Now that I know where she is, I can persuade her to let me produce her next album.”

  “If anyone can, you will. But I understand Sabra said Laurel wanted some undisturbed downtime, and, although you won’t see a bodyguard, you can be sure that Rio will make sure she isn’t bothered.”

  Zach rubbed the full beard he’d enjoyed wearing for the past three years. He’d never liked shaving every day. “One look at me and she’ll probably sic her guard on me.” He told her about the airport incident.

  “Not if you tell her that you’re practically family,” Paige said. “I told you, Sierra is Sabra’s sister-in-law. They’re really close. Family means a lot to all of them, just like it does to us.”

  Paige’s idea had merit, but she didn’t know how Laurel felt about him. If she recognized him, it would be all over. His hand went to the full beard he’d cultivated for the past three years. “You saved me from another restless night. I’ll grab the first flight I can get.”

  “Let me know if you have any trouble getting to her. I’ll ask Shane to call Rio.”

  The last thing he wanted was for Rio or Shane to tell Laurel who he was before she had a chance to get to know him and see that all the crazy stories about him weren’t true. “Thanks, but I can handle it from here.”

  “Then you owe me a visit,” she bargained.

  He chuckled. “All right. I’d planned to come down Mother’s Day weekend.”

  “Great. ’Night, Zach.”

  “ ’Night, Sunshine.” Zach hung up the phone and started from the room to shave off his beard. Laurel Raineau, here I come. For the sacrifice I’m about to make you had darn well better listen to what I have to say.

  Two

  Laurel Raineau, you should have never allowed Sabra to talk you into this trip.

  Laurel sighed and reached for the glass of white wine she didn’t want. She’d ordered it with her dinner at the sommelier’s suggestion. She sipped it now as an excuse to remain in the posh restaurant instead of going back to her luxurious but lonely room.

  She should have just stayed at her rental property in Los Angeles. Even as the thought formed, she knew that if she had, her mother would never have gone to her high school’s fortieth reunion in Louisville. They were almost inseparable. This was the first time since Laurel was sixteen that she was on her own and away from her family.

  She might be twenty-six, but she supposed she’d lived a sheltered life. She’d been playing the violin since she was five. The countless hours of daily practice hadn’t left much room for other activities or friends. She’d begun touring after she graduated from high school, but even before then there were events and competitions. Her room and the den at her parents’ home in Nashville were filled with trophies and awards. And on every trip her mother had been there.

  Laurel took another sip and glanced around. Couples were seated at every table. The lone exceptions were two women dining together, and herself.

  Shortly after she’d arrived at the restaurant, two men had tried to pick her up, but she’d promptly sent them on their way. She hadn’t thought when she’d decided to accept Sierra Navarone’s invitation, at Sabra’s urging, that the resort would have so many couples.

  She fought another sigh. Just what she didn’t need—another reminder that she was alone. It was a thought that had occurred more and more frequently since Sabra had married Pierce Grayson.

  Laurel wasn’t jealous—exactly—but being around the Grayson family and their spouses had a way of making you wish there were someone in your life who looked at you as if he’d be lost without you, as if you were the other part of him.

  Tears glittered in her eyes, but she hastily brushed them away. Her father had looked at her mother that wa
y. He would have done anything to ensure her happiness, to ensure the happiness of his “girls” as he fondly referred to them. Her mother wasn’t as open or demonstrative as her father, but she loved just as deeply. His sudden death had shaken all of them.

  For once, Laurel’s music hadn’t been able to soothe her. Nothing could ease the jagged hole in her heart. It had been more than a year since his death, and they were slowly moving on. It was time. Her father wouldn’t have wanted them to continue to grieve. He’d taught them to live each day to the fullest.

  She couldn’t recall him ever looking sad except the time he’d come back from a business trip to Santa Fe. She thought it was because his investment business wasn’t doing well. Her mother had never worked, and he was their sole provider. In a week or so, however, he’d been his old happy self, and they were on their way to San Francisco for a family vacation.

  Laurel thought it appropriate that Sabra had found Pierce, the man of her dreams and heart, in Santa Fe. They were crazy about each other. Sabra divided her time among marriage, Broadway, and acting. She was ecstatically happy and content, and always put Pierce first, just as he did her. Again, Laurel wondered what it would be like to love and be loved that much.

  She was probably doomed to not find out anytime soon. Her hectic schedule didn’t leave much time for dating. The last time she had dated, it had ended in total disaster and humiliation. Sean Conner had completely conned her. If she let herself think about it too much, she’d get angry and feel gullible and stupid all over again. He was out of her life.

  She was in a beautiful resort on the Mexican Caribbean. She should be enjoying herself instead of thinking about a selfish jerk. She ruthlessly pulled her mind from the painful past, thought of her mother, and smiled. She had been so excited when Laurel had seen her off at the airport with two of her friends for their high school reunion.