Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Tristan Vaughan

  Before I could ask him what was so funny, a young couple took the barstools to my left. The woman had perfect, platinum hair, and a rope of pearls the size of gumballs. The man wore a navy blue blazer and a watch that glinted with diamonds.

  "Nice to see you again, Mr. Wyatt. We are so excited to be heading up to the Golden Bluff Estate tomorrow night," the woman gushed in a British accent. She turned to me and laid a manicured hand on my arm. "The mansion is absolutely breathtaking, isn't it? I really think it should be classified as a castle but Americans shy away from that term, don't they?"

  "There's a castle up the hill from here?" I asked Andrew.

  "Oh, darling, she's never been to Golden Bluff," the woman exclaimed. "Don't you remember our first time there? It was like driving into a fairy tale."

  Her husband indulged his wife. "It was foggy our first gala, but the farther up the driveway we went, the clearer the air became."

  "Then the castle —I mean, mansion —appeared all bathed in sunlight." The woman fluttered her hands. "I told Chaz I was too nervous to go inside. The palm trees, the gold-leafed motifs, the carved archway above the door. It truly is like a fairy tale."

  Andrew poured them two glasses of wine. "So glad to see you again. Enjoy."

  I gaped back and forth between the jubilant couple and the bartender. "There's really a fairytale castle, mansion, something up there?" I pointed past his head.

  "Yes," Andrew said slowly as if I was having trouble understanding. "Maybe you've heard of it? Golden Bluff Estate?"

  I put both hands to my mouth. "Oh, god. Is this the part where you think that all New Yorkers are such snobs they don't think there's a world outside Manhattan? That's not me, I promise. I just have no idea what you're talking about."

  Andrew chuckled again. "I believe you. Just like I believe you about the rental car breaking down. Ruiz and I watched you coast in earlier."

  Landon loped up behind me and brushed his hands together. "Well, now that's done, I can tell you about the solution to your travel problems." He paused as his phone rang then threw his head back and swore at the ceiling. "Damn. Sorry. I have to take this. It's Lyla."

  Andrew backed away with his hands up and I returned to my whiskey. It was impossible not to hear Landon as he whispered loudly into his phone.

  "I told you I would be back and I'll be back. I don't care what color the napkins are. No, I'm not even supposed to care. Lyla, that's ridiculous. Do you think my father ever answered questions about napkins clashing with tablecloths?" Landon ran a hand through his dark hair.

  I watched with disgust as he mussed his hair and it ended up looking better than before. He was one of those people who got away with everything. It seemed obvious he was having an argument with his girlfriend or possibly wife. Instead, he was at The Sand Dollar having drinks with his buddy. My stomach turned as I realized he had been flirting with me and had someone else at home waiting on him.

  So far I had seen Landon taking drinks and food from his friend with no attempts to pay him back. Now he was arguing with his girlfriend over something despite the fact that she clearly needed his help. I refused to look at him again and concentrated on my whiskey. There was no denying the current of attraction I felt around Landon, but he was just like Owen —avoiding any kind of work or responsibility. That made Landon exactly the type of man I had vowed to avoid.

  The quiet bar filled up quickly as the sea breeze got the better of the clientele. Landon finished his phone conversation and slumped over the bar even as he smiled at me. He sat exactly the same way as I had when I had first come in and didn't want to be noticed.

  Despite his posture, a steady stream of people smiled and nodded at Landon as they passed our bar stools. I made a game out of watching them in the mirror until I realized the whiskey made their faces blur. I was getting drunk, and it was getting harder to convince myself that Landon was to be avoided.

  Andrew swung back when he could and held out a set of keys. "I'm sorry I can't take you up there myself."

  "I will." Landon snatched the keys out his friend's hand and stood up. "I've got to get out of here. Come on, Riley."

  I thanked Andrew and told myself I could handle going upstairs with Landon, despite who I believe he was. He was just going to show me the apartment and leave. Besides, I thought as we passed a reflective beer sign, I looked like hell, and there was no way that the tall, handsome man was attracted to me, nor going to get me if he was.

  “Problems with the girlfriend?” I asked as we walked up the stair. I couldn’t help but try and call him out on his indiscretion.

  “Hell no!” he snapped back quickly. “That would be easier to deal with. Lyla is my cousin and a real pain sometimes.”

  Landon had to duck as he led me up a narrow staircase to the upper level. He unlocked the door, reached in for the light switch, and then held the door so I could go in first.

  "Thanks," I said, skirting by as if he might bite me. The tension eased over my body when I realized that he could be telling the truth about the phone call. Not that it really mattered much to me. I stepped through the doorway and looked around the room.

  The apartment had soft white walls, a thick rug in shades of blue, and large glass terrariums filled with seashells and driftwood. A white wicker settee with sinfully soft cushions stood at an angle looking out a bay window. The queen-sized bed had a four poster frame and gauzy netting strung between the posts.

  "Here's the part most women love," Landon said. He flicked on the light in the bathroom.

  The claw foot tub almost elicited a squeal of delight from me. "And what part do you love besides being able to hide when your cousin needs your help?"

  "Man, you are hard on me. I kinda like it." Landon gave me a wicked smile. He pointed to a little balcony outside one of the windows. Curious, I followed him outside to stand on the balcony. He pointed at a ladder that led up to the roof. "My favorite part is up there."

  I looked at the ladder and shook my head. "No thanks."

  "You won't get hurt, I promise," he said.

  I took his hand, not sure what had possessed me to trust him. He helped me up the ladder and chuckled when I gasped.

  "It's a widow's walk," he explained, climbing onto the roof behind me. "This is where I hide out when I want to be alone."

  Far below, the ocean hummed and sighed, while above us the stars were so bright I blinked in shock. As I craned my head back to take in the dazzling display, I stumbled back against Landon's chest.

  He caught me with strong, sure hands. "Welcome to Michel's Beach."

  Chapter Four

  Landon

  I stood still and counted my lucky stars when Riley regained her balance but didn’t step away. Her hair smelled like sunlight and fresh ocean air. Her scent was more intoxicating than the whiskey had been, and I swayed. She looked up, inches from me, and smiled at the stars.

  "How did you know this was up here?" Riley asked.

  I knew every rung of the ladder, every railing of the balcony, and every view from the widow's walk. When things felt like they might come crashing down at any minute, I imagined this very spot.

  "Andrew and I came up here all the time when we were kids," I said.

  Riley raised an eyebrow at me. "You seem more familiar with it than that."

  She assumed I brought women here, that I’d tried this very same move, and I almost laughed out loud. Why had I never thought of it? I racked my memory but could not think of any women I had even brought to The Sand Dollar, much less upstairs.

  My smile faded. "Remember how I told you my parents were really busy? Well, my house was, um, empty. And it was always busy here. The Wyatts looked after me and let me stay up here sometimes."

  Now both of Riley's eyebrows were up in surprise. "You really have roots here."

  "I know, I know, strange for a jobless moocher, huh?" I asked.

  It was dark, but I could see her sarcastic grin had disappeared. Now her smile was softer. "No, I'm, I
guess I'm just jealous," she stammered. "I moved away from my home state. It must be nice to live around people who have known your family your whole life."

  I bit my lip. "It's all right, but sometimes it’s a little too much."

  She took in the view again. "You want to leave?"

  "I escape through travel," I said.

  Riley turned and grabbed my arm as she found her footing on the ladder. Two rungs down, she tugged my arm until I was close to her. "Admit it. You secretly love it here and don't want to leave."

  I took a minute to catch my breath before I followed her down the ladder. The widow's walk didn’t allow for much pacing despite its name. I spun back and forth a few times, my hands on my belt loops. I had spent nearly a decade on the widow's walk, swearing to myself that I would travel far away and never come back. Every time I was at The Sand Dollar, I did everything I could to avoid the upstairs and widow's walk unless I was blind drunk. Yet tonight it was the only place I wanted to be.

  I jumped down the last two rungs of the ladder and heard Andrew knocking on the door. "I got it," I told Riley. She had taken a seat on one corner of the sofa and might have left room for me.

  "Fresh linens," Andrew said. He choked a little when he saw my face. "Thought you didn't like coming up here."

  "It's better than being me in that bar crowd," I said.

  Andrew nodded. "Fair enough. We're totally slammed. And the gala crowd expects a high level of service, you know, quick orders, extra attention. I'm not sure we can handle it."

  I leaned on the doorframe. "How's Ruiz? Isn't this usually the time he quits?" Riley stood up and I explained, "Ruiz gets mad and quits every year right about now."

  "And you don't think you should help your friends?" she asked.

  "What? Volunteer to pour drinks at the bar?" I asked, and then choked on a chuckle.

  Andrew snorted and then could not hold back his laughter. We collapsed against the door and laughed, but Riley only folded her arms over her chest. It took a minute to pull ourselves together, especially after Andrew imagined out loud a few drink order scenarios from our favorite gala guests.

  "Well, if he's incapable of helping, then I could," Riley said. "That way I wouldn't feel bad about staying in this apartment."

  Andrew shook his head. "You don't have to worry about that. The apartment is empty and you're welcome to stay as long as you like."

  I didn't like the way my best friend sized me up as he told Riley that, but I would have to wait and ask him about it after the rush. "I'm not incapable of helping."

  "It's just he's, um, him," Andrew tried.

  Riley threw her hands in the air. "Either way, I'm me and it's no problem for me to help you. I'd be happy to." She pushed past Andrew and headed downstairs.

  We caught up with her behind the bar, tying on a black apron. "I'll take orders from the standing customers so the crowd by the bar can spread out," she said.

  Andrew looked at me with wide eyes. "If you man the bar, I can help in the dining hall and keep Ruiz in the kitchen."

  "You got it, boss," I said.

  Andrew stopped at the door to the kitchen. "You know this is totally ridiculous, right?"

  "Better to be ridiculous than incapable," I said and tied on a black apron. "Who needs a drink?"

  A wave of gasps and surprised chuckles answered me. Riley flashed me a curious look from the middle of the room, but I just shrugged.

  "Taking up a new hobby, eh, Mr. Landon? I remember moonlighting as an usher once just to see how the other half lived," a familiar-looking elderly gentleman said with a grin. "I'll have a scotch and soda."

  "Three vodka gimlets, please," a trio of tanned and manicured women cooed.

  "On the house, ladies, as long as you show me I. D," I said.

  The older woman giggled and left an enormous tip on the bar. I made the drinks as Andrew swung by to check on me.

  "The word's spreading like wildfire," Andrew said. "Has Riley figured out who you are yet?"

  I watched her honey-brown hair bobbing as she memorized drink orders. "I don't know. I can't worry about that —I had a great idea. Get a bigger tip jar and write Michel's Fund on it."

  The orders picked up and I didn't stop for what felt like hours. Andrew swung by as often as he could and his news was always the same.

  "I bribed Ruiz and the staff not to say anything. You owe them a grill-out at your place," he said.

  "Fine, thanks. You're doing the grilling," I called out.

  Riley smiled as she set her tray down and recited a litany of drinks. "The crowd is really responding to you. What's going on?"

  I made her drink orders as quickly as I could. Thank god for my time spent in a college fraternity that liked to host open bar events. "Why question when things are going so good?"

  When the crowd finally thinned and business slowed to a trickle, the tip jar was overflowing. I slumped against the side of the bar, feet aching.

  Riley, on the other hand, bounced over. "Wow, that's amazing! This Michel's Fund must be one great charity."

  "Actually, it serves over one hundred charities dedicated to children's well-being, medical advancements, and community enrichment."

  She blinked her chocolate brown eyes a few times before she said, "Did you practice that?"

  "Everyone knows that line around here," Andrew jumped in. "The Michels are very generous people, and we're proud to help support their charitable work."

  The few remaining patrons jumped in their seats when Ruiz kicked open the kitchen door and carried in a tray laden with food. "Snacks for the surviving staff and our charming volunteer."

  "Thanks, Ruiz," I said.

  The chef rolled his eyes. "Not you. The charming volunteer. You were a life-saver, Riley. Thank god you were here to help."

  "I think I'm starting to like Michel's Beach." Her cheeks darkened into a rosy blush, and I felt a burst of heat in my chest.

  Ruiz caught me looking at Riley and slapped me on the back. "And you, now that we know you actually can work, you better be down here in the trenches more often, bro."

  "Was this really your first time volunteering to help?" Riley asked. "How is that possible in a town this small?"

  "Yeah, bro, what exactly do you do during the gala weekend?" Ruiz asked with a smile that dared me to answer.

  I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow. "We all have our roles to play when the locusts —I mean, guests—come to town."

  "You did a great job in the role of bartender," Riley said.

  The compliment surprised everyone, including Riley. She rubbed a hand over her pink cheeks and checked her watch.

  "Thanks," I said. "Crab puff?"

  Riley looked at the decadent tray Ruiz had prepared but shook her head. "I think I'm just going to grab my things from the car. It's been a long day."

  "I'll walk you out," I said and held the door open for her.

  "Wow, the parking lot really cleared out, didn't it," she said. "Looks I'm the only one left except for, whoa, is that a Maserati?"

  I steered her away from my car. "Not everyone can have a reliable convertible like you. Though, I gotta confess, I'm glad you coasted into Michel's Beach."

  She popped the trunk and grabbed one small suitcase. "Me too, except for the whole missing my best friend's graduation," she sighed.

  "You know, I've been thinking about that and I can help you," I said.

  She looked around the bare parking lot. "How? Do you have a car?"

  "Sure," I said. "Or a boat, or a seaplane…but I think that's probably overkill for a trip down to Santa Cruz. How about a helicopter?"

  Riley shoved me as she walked around me and back to The Sand Dollar. "Yeah, sounds great. You just pick me up on Monday in your helicopter and we'll fly over the rainbow."

  I stopped. "You don't believe me. All right, yeah, I get that. But what if I told you I really did have all those things?"

  "And, what? You've been lying this whole evening? It's all right, Landon, not
everyone has a job all the time," she said. "I mean, I don't have a job right now."

  "I bet Andrew would give you one at The Sand Dollar," I said.

  "Bet he'd give you one, too."

  I grabbed her arm before she could go inside. "Look, what if I could arrange a ride that would get you to Santa Cruz for your friend's graduation, guaranteed?"

  "How?" she asked.

  The words stopped in my throat. It would have been the perfect time to tell Riley the truth. Instead, I wove together a few half-truths. "A lot of the gala guests are very wealthy, so they fly in on helicopters. I happen to know a few of the pilots, and I'm sure one of them will be heading to Santa Cruz from here."

  She studied my face. "And you're going to convince them to take a woman you hardly know as a favor to you? What about my rental car?"

  "Andrew and I will take care of it when the mechanic shows," I said.

  Riley shook her head. "I wouldn't know how to repay you."

  I dodged in front of her. "What if I told you I had an idea about that too?"

  She smiled. "You've got lots of ideas."

  "I'm full of them," I said with a grin.

  "You're full of something." Riley laughed and tapped her foot. "All right, what would the deal be for a helicopter ride to Santa Cruz? You're not going to turn out to be a total creep, are you?"

  I took her bag off her shoulder and slung it over my own. "No, nothing like that. It's just that I have to go to the gala event and it's really not my scene. If you go with me, as my date, I think I could maybe stand it."

  Riley crossed her arms and continued to tap her foot. "All I know about this gala is that it has something to do with the Michel family and the charities they support."

  "That's about it," I said. "The Michels open their home, the Golden Bluff Estate, once a year for these big parties. It's like a cocktail party, private concert, ball, and silent auction all rolled into one perfectly themed and decorated event."

  "So why don't you like going?" she asked.

  I scrubbed the back of my neck. "It's a lot of rich folks wanting to impress each other, and they always want me to join a country club or a yacht club or their yearly trek to Provence. They want everyone to join so we can all start thinking alike and having the same opinions."