Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Tristan Vaughan

  Riley crinkled her forehead. "You're not really selling it well."

  "Free champagne, free five-star food, world-class musicians, and swag bags worth more than your rental car?"

  "Nice try, but I can't," Riley said.

  "Is it me? I can explain."

  She laughed and laid a hand on my arm. "No, it's not you. It's just that I am clearly an outsider in Michel's Beach. In California, for that matter. I don't really want to go to a fancy party where I will stick out even worse."

  "You fit in just fine tonight," I pointed out.

  "As a waitress."

  I caught her hand before she could remove it from my arm. "As a local. I mean, you made Ruiz happy. The whole town should be giving you a medal."

  She smiled but it faded. "I've been in one place so long that it feels really strange to be out here. I'm not even sure if I can do it. I mean, I've already screwed up my first independent trip and got myself stranded here. I have no idea what I'm doing. What if people ask me what I do?"

  I chuckled. "Tell 'em what I always do. 'I'm living life.'"

  Riley rolled her eyes. "Does that actually work?"

  I thought of Lyla's irate response earlier that afternoon. "No, now that I think about it, it doesn't work. Stick with just smiling and nodding."

  "Is that what you do?"

  I smiled and nodded until she smacked my arm. "Ouch. All right, that settles it. You're coming to the gala as my date."

  I swung open The Sand Dollar door and grabbed a cocktail napkin off the bar. I scribbled my name and phone number on it and handed it to Riley.

  "I'll pick you up here at noon tomorrow," I said. Then my phone jangled and I broke off into curses. "Sorry, I have to get that. It's my cousin again."

  I watched as Ruiz made Riley a plate. At least she wouldn't be going upstairs for a minute.

  "Bad timing, Lyla," I said.

  "Oh, so you do know how to tell time?" she snapped. "That's interesting because it's almost two a.m. and you're still not here."

  "Oh my god, did you wait up for me?"

  "Don't be stupid, Landon," Lyla said. "I have better things to do than wonder how you’re wasting your time. I have an overseas conference call. You know, work."

  "I'm sorry I lost track of time. Something came up at The Sand Dollar."

  "See?" Lyla chirped. "I don't have to wonder how you're wasting your time because you're always doing the same thing."

  I turned away from Riley and my friends eating by the bar and hissed into my phone. "You're the one who's always encouraging me to participate in pre-gala events."

  "Like golf, Landon. Or sailing. Something with a little dignity. Not just bellying up to the bar and getting drunk!"

  "It wasn't like that," I said. "In fact, I raised a bunch of money for the fund. I haven't counted it yet, but some people were tipping with hundred dollar bills."

  Her voice dropped to a sharp monotone. "So it's true? You jumped behind the bar and started serving drinks?"

  I slapped a hand to my forehead. "All right, go ahead, Lyla, tell me exactly what I did wrong this time."

  My cousin heaved a huge sigh. "The Michels have a brand, Landon, one that projects a very high level of breeding, education, and elegance. Serving drinks in the local dive doesn't really fit that image, does it?"

  I watched Riley telling the story of her drive. Her hair caught the light in shots of gold as she tossed her head wildly and re-enacted coasting into the parking lot. Andrew, Ruiz, and the staff laughed.

  "You should know by now that I'm more interested in being a human than a brand," I said. "Oh, by the way, I'm bringing a date to the gala."

  "What? Who?" she spluttered. "Please, for the love of god, tell me you did not meet her at The Sand Dollar tonight."

  "Technically, it was this afternoon."

  Lyla sucked air in between her teeth. "Well, whoever she is, remind her that this is a black-tie, formal event. She can't show up in a sundress and flip-flops."

  "Nice talking to you." I hung up my phone and swore under my breath. I knew Lyla was just looking out for me, but the idea of her judging Riley made me livid.

  I turned around and caught Andrew's worried look from across the room. I shrugged, but he still looked concerned.

  Next to him, Riley was shooting me curious glances from under her impossibly thick eyelashes. I should have been jumping for joy. Riley had agreed to be my date and for the first time in the last three years, I was actually looking forward to the gala. I tried to shake off Lyla's call and started across the room to join my friends.

  "I know it might not look like it, but Landon's under a lot of pressure. There's a lot expected from him—"

  "Thanks, Andrew, but I believe Riley already agreed to be my date to the gala, right?" I asked her.

  She gave the semi-circle of curious faces a shy smile. "Yes, I agreed to go with him. But don't worry, I don't expect too much. I mean, I hardly expect you to get up before noon in time to pick me up."

  "You know, I'm not the same as that creep that keeps texting you. Because you've got me all wrong," I said.

  "Yeah, I think I did get you all wrong," Riley said, her eyes flashing with annoyance. She plucked her bag off my shoulder and started for the stairs. "Thanks for everything, Andrew. Ruiz, the food was wonderful. Nice to meet everyone."

  I banged my head on the low ceiling stairwell as I tried to follow her. "Riley, please. I'm sorry. My cousin just got under my skin."

  She turned on a higher step and we stood eye to eye. "You were right. I don't know anything about you, so maybe it's better if we went our separate ways."

  "Please. I know it's crazy, but you're the only person who can make tomorrow bearable. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I don't know anything about your ex-boyfriend, and I shouldn’t have said anything."

  Riley drew a deep breath and let it out on a shaky sigh. "You're right about that, too. Just because my ex-boyfriend acted a certain way doesn’t mean every man is like that. I'm sorry. It's just been a hard day."

  I nodded. "Your grandfather. I forgot. I'm so sorry, Riley. You wanted to sit and remember him in private, and I dragged you into a crazy shift at an overcrowded bar."

  A smile brightened the corners of her mouth. "I think that was for the best. I didn't have a chance to be sad. And all night I kept thinking how he would have loved to hear the story of my day today."

  "Well, I know everyone in Michel's Beach will agree that your bad day turned out to be a great thing for us. You fit in well around here."

  Her cheeks reddened again. "So, is there really a Michel?" She glanced out the porthole window in the stairwell and up the dark hills. "I'm imagining him sitting up there like some sort of Gatsby. Does he show up to these things or does he just watch from some high window?"

  "You can find out tomorrow when you come to the gala with me," I said.

  She laughed and continued up the stairs. I walked her to the door of the small apartment. There she turned and gave me a shy, searching look.

  "Is there anything else I should know before tomorrow?" she asked.

  "Yes," I said, relieved to have thought of something concrete to tell her. "The gala is a black-tie, formal event." I eyed her small suitcase doubtfully.

  "Formal beach wear?" Riley teased. "I'll polish up my flip-flops tonight."

  "Sorry, no flip-flops allowed," I said. "Unless you have a real dress in that suitcase, we're going to have to send you to the nearest boutique."

  Riley shook her head. "I have a black dress packed and I promise it will be wrinkle-free by tomorrow. It might not be the fanciest, but it's black and no one will notice."

  I cleared my throat. "It's formal. Very. As in tuxedoes and floor-length dresses. You know how celebrities rent fancy necklaces and things to impress people on the red carpet? Well, people buy new jewels just for this party."

  Riley sized me up. "Are you screwing with me?"

  I looked down at my dirty jeans and scuffed loafers. I wasn't even wearing
socks. "I'm not screwing with you. You can ask the guys downstairs. Andrew had to learn how to tie a bowtie for these parties."

  "So, what? You've rented a tux for tomorrow, and you want to make sure I don't embarrass you?" Riley asked.

  I brushed a honey-brown wave of hair off her shoulder. "Frankly, you can wear whatever you want and I'll still be overjoyed that you're there with me. I'm just telling you because you were worried about feeling like an outsider. I'm sure that would feel even more pronounced if you weren't dressed right."

  "You think I'm going to back out now?" Riley asked. "Fat chance."

  I swooped in and kissed her cheek. "You won't regret it. Believe me."

  "I might, but I’m not sure I can trust you. You just said there’s a boutique in town. So far I've only seen four buildings, and we're in one of them."

  I laughed. "The boutique is the last building in this row. It has all the windsocks flying around during the day."

  "I'm getting a formal dress at a souvenir shop?"

  I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text. "Rosalyn owns the shop. She outfits most of the locals. I sent her a message and told her to expect you."

  Riley brushed a kiss across my cheek. "Thanks."

  "What was that for?" I asked.

  "For making a hard day into a fun story." She unlocked the apartment and slipped inside.

  I waited until my breath came back before I headed home.

  Chapter Five

  Riley

  I tiptoed down the narrow staircase to the bar. It was strange to see it in daylight. The floor was dark, scuffed hardwood, and the ceiling had original crown moldings. The trendy gaslight lanterns were authentic, as was the glass buoy collection that made the ceiling a bright mosaic. I blinked around at all the details I had missed the night before.

  "Hello? Good morning?" I called without much volume.

  Luckily, the bar was on the shady side in the early morning because I knew I looked like a zombie. I needed to find caffeine.

  I shuffled closer to the bar and yelped in surprise as Andrew appeared with two steaming mugs of coffee.

  "Good morning," he said with a bushy smile. Andrew's beard was neatly brushed, his white shirt impeccable, and his smile too bright.

  I braced myself to interact with a morning person. "Thank you. I need coffee."

  "Bet you thought it was a dream, huh?" Andrew asked. "It's not every day your car happens to fail right in the backyard of someone like Landon."

  I sipped my coffee. "So, what's so different about Landon?"

  Andrew laughed. "Very funny. When did you realize? Before he asked you out or after? Frankly, I'm surprised he even asked you."

  "Hey! Why wouldn't Landon ask me out?" I avoided looking in the mirror behind the bar. I couldn't have reality evaporate my righteous anger.

  Andrew held up both hands in surrender. "I only meant that I'm surprised Landon asked anyone out. He doesn't really date much."

  I almost snorted coffee out my nose. "Oh, I get it. He doesn't date, he just 'hangs out' with lots of different women, huh?"

  "Nope. No hanging out and no dating. Until you showed up," Andrew said. "And even more surprising is the fact that he wants you to go to the gala."

  "Don't worry, I'm getting a dress this morning. I won't embarrass your friend," I snapped.

  Andrew chuckled and poured me more coffee. "I'm trying to tell you something, Riley. Landon never takes a date to one of his events. You're the first I remember in the last few years."

  "'One of his events?'"

  "The gala has a long tradition, you know. I mean, how would you know, but I can tell you." Andrew stood up straight and grabbed a rag. He started polishing the hanging wine glasses. "See, the Michels own a major publishing house, started in the 1900's."

  "Thanks," I said, "but what I really want to know is just how formal this event is going to be."

  "Very." Andrew stopped polishing glasses. "I once saw a woman whose dress was made out of pearls, diamonds, and golden beads. Someone told me it was worth more than a brand-new Mercedes, and it weighs forty pounds."

  "Okay, no need to panic," I muttered to myself. "There's the boutique down the street, right?"

  Andrew nodded. "Rosalyn's place."

  "Yeah, Rosalyn." I forced my fluttering hands onto the bar. "Landon sent her a message last night."

  "Then don't worry. She'll take care of everything," Andrew assured me.

  Chapter Six

  Landon

  I didn't think Lyla's nose could go any higher, but when she saw my sweaty shirt, she pointed it up to the bell tower. "For god's sake, where have you been, Landon?"

  I gripped the ATV handles and fought the urge to drive off again. There was still enough fog, I could disappear before the curve in the driveway. I could climb higher up the back paths and delay the sunrise a little longer. I loved how the morning sun slowly burned through and made the towering eucalyptus trees glow. It felt like coaxing a smile from a beautiful woman.

  I thought of Riley and our date. At least I had that to look forward to… if my cousin would stop getting in my way.

  Lyla was in her usual place on the top of the front steps, hands on hips, complete with a disapproving frown. It was hard to remember she was only five years older than me. Maybe it was the constrictive pencil skirt or the sensible suit jacket she wore even on a Saturday morning.

  "Does every word out of your mouth have to sound like you're scolding me?" I asked. I took the front steps two at a time until I towered over her. "I was out checking the estate fences. Remember? Don't you put stuff like that in your calendar along with when I eat a sandwich or take a crap?"

  Her mouth twisted with distaste. "It's important that I know your schedule, just like it's important I know exactly how long it takes to drive the perimeter of the estate. Must you always take the long way?" Lyla crossed her arms and glared up at me.

  "I love detours."

  "I'm sure the grounds crew has everything covered. They send me daily updates."

  "I prefer to get my updates firsthand." I tried to take a step around her, but she blocked my way.

  "All I'm asking for is a little consideration, Landon." Lyla smoothed back her hair and tugged her suit coat into place. "This is all going to be your responsibility before you know it. The board members are not happy with a figurehead. Besides, you know this is the year that your full inheritance comes into play.”

  My fingers flexed in anger, and I had to force them into fists before I strangled my cousin. "I don’t want to talk about my inheritance, Lyla. There are other things to life, my life. The best I can say is thanks for handling your job. Please stop attacking me."

  Lyla dropped her voice to an icy tone. "I'm not here to attack you. I just thought it was important to see where the host was and if he was planning to be ready on time. Not to mention the last-minute menu changes need approval and the security protocol for our higher level guests has flaws."

  I took Lyla by her stiff shoulders and forced myself not to shake her. "All of those details, all of those decisions, all of those changes, and all of these little headaches that could drive a person insane are exactly why I pay you an exorbitant salary. Remember?"

  "How could I forget?" she snapped. "I'm also in charge of payroll."

  I ground my teeth. "The point is, I’m paying you to handle things. That means you should handle them without waiting for me on the front steps every time I step out of the house."

  I finally pushed past her and swore. The front foyer was a mass of decorators and caterers. I had let her annoy me enough that I had forgone my normal routine of slipping through the staff entrance in order to avoid the chaos of the upcoming gala.

  Swathes of brightly colored fabric were being hung from the ceiling to create the effect of a big-top tent. It felt like a carnival with men on spindly scaffolding and the chandelier swinging back and forth.

  "Landon, we need to talk about your inheritance. There are some serious considerations t
o be made before your birthday.” Lyla was quick on my heels. "The gala has taken up most of my time, so I’m sorry if this seems like I’m springing it on you.”

  I spun around and headed back outside. I couldn't yell at my cousin in front of an army of party organizers.

  Outside, a team had unrolled a red carpet down the steps. They were snapping brass dowels in place to prevent the guests from tripping. I was glad they had decided to start at the bottom and work their way back up. Hopefully, Lyla and I would be done arguing before the team was back in earshot.

  I turned to face her. "Our arrangement has always been that I pay you to manage the estate and that includes my inheritance. When I want to know something, I will ask you. Think of it from my perspective. I'm paying you to make my life easier. And this?" I gestured to her rigid stance and jutting chin. "This is not making it any easier."

  I glanced down the driveway where the valets were having a meeting. The head valet pointed across the wide cobblestone turnaround, and I thought about all the hundreds of people that were soon to swing through the driveway.

  Turning back to Lyla, I could tell that she was getting ready for another argument. It was time to change the subject and get her off my back.

  "What about your date?" I asked.

  "What date?" She gaped at me.

  I shrugged. "You're always going on and on about having a date to these big social events. I thought you'd have somebody here already. Some completely acceptable corporate lawyer or hedge fund manager. Come on, you can't be telling me you're going solo tonight, are you?"

  Lyla blushed. "You can't be serious. When would I have time to meet anyone, Landon? How am I supposed to sustain a relationship long enough to invite someone to this gala?"

  "Whoa, who said anything about a full-blown relationship? I was just wondering if you had a date for tonight."

  She snorted and then smoothed her hair as a workman glanced in her direction. "It's not really a first date kind of event. Not that I even have time to meet anyone and even consider going on a first date."