I paused and took the shot of tequila. My brain was swimming with too many other nervous thoughts, and I couldn't process what Andrew was saying. I waited until the fiery gulp sizzled into my stomach. Moments later the warmth fanned out into my body and I relaxed a tiny bit.
"You know I worked last night just to have something to do, right? It felt good to be useful instead of just standing around, feeling out of place. It was nice enough of you to let me help. I didn't expect or want you to pay me," I said.
"Truth be told, the only people I paid last night were Ruiz and his crew. The gala crowd puts a lot of strain on the kitchen. The rest of us give our wages to the Michel Fund," Andrew said.
Nerves and the tight gold chiffon made it hard to sit still on the barstool. I slipped down and moved to stand against the bar. My nervous fingers found a pile of cocktail napkins as Andrew poured me another shot of tequila.
"So, is your friend Rosalyn in the habit of giving away dresses?" I shredded the first napkin in the pile.
"Like you said, you aren't a charity case and you certainly don't look like one," Andrew said.
I eyed him. He shook his black hair and stepped away.
"You know something about it, though,” I said. “Don't you?"
"Just think about it," he said with a sigh. "Who would want you to have a dress so you can go to the gala?"
I frowned. "The Michels? So I can support their charities?"
Andrew laughed and kept laughing as he started to close up the bar. I fidgeted over the napkins as he patted regular customers on the back and pushed in chairs. By the time he made his way back to the bar, he was still chuckling.
"Come on, I'm nervous enough as it is," I confessed. "I'm starting to realize I underestimated this whole event and now I'm going to it on a first date. Do you have any idea how nerve-wracking that is?"
Andrew eyed the pile of tattered napkins. "I can guess."
"So if you know anything about the mystery of this dress, you should just tell me."
"All I can tell you is that I can't wait to see Landon's face. You are going to knock him on his ass."
I dropped the napkin scraps and fluttered my hands. It was a ridiculous gesture but my panic had to come out somehow. The only other outlet I knew was running and my dress and heels were not going to allow that. "This is crazy. I can't go on a first date like this. It's a date, isn't it?"
Andrew's smile burst through his thick beard. "It is most certainly a date."
"Then where is he?" I forced myself not to turn around and search the porthole windows that overlooked the parking lot. "What if he's changed his mind? Maybe he just had too much to drink last night."
I pushed the second shot of tequila away from me. My stomach already felt wobbly just thinking about Landon. I didn't know much about him, so there was no way to judge if he was the type to stand a woman up or if he kept his word. And if I was being honest with myself, it was hard to tell which I hoped was the truth.
If Landon didn't show up, then I looked ridiculous in front of a few of the bar regulars. I could return the dress to Rosalyn, leave it on her front step if I had to, and pretend it was all a tipsy mistake. Another night in Michel's Beach would be awkward, but I could move on in the morning and not look back.
On the other hand, if Landon showed up, I was pretty sure my heart was going to stop. Flashes of the way he looked the night before kept buffeting my thoughts. Tall, broad shoulders, those electric blue eyes that sent a jolt through me, and that high-wattage smile. More than that, though, was the way his voice dropped when he revealed something true about himself: the loss of his parents, his love for Michel's Beach. If Landon showed up, I feared it would be a night I would never forget. Even when I had to move on.
I waited five whole minutes. "He's not coming. I've been stood up."
Andrew shook his head. "Being on time has never been Landon's strong suit."
“Either that or he changed his mind. I talked too much about my ex-boyfriend last night.”
“He didn’t change his mind.” Andrew chuckled and flipped off a few lights. The regulars groaned and got up from their seats. "Bar’s closed. Time to party!" He turned and patted my hand. "Don't worry, I'll wait with you. He'll be here."
The phone rang and Andrew moved down the bar to answer it.
"See you at the top of the hill, miss." My middle-aged admirers nodded as they headed for the parking lot.
I leaned against the bar as if I had grown roots. My only comfort was that I was a total stranger to almost everyone. The snippets I had overheard described the gala as an enormous, flashy event. No one would notice my presence or my absence.
Still no Landon. I started to think about going upstairs and locking the door.
I eyed an uncorked bottle of red wine that stood near the beer tap. I could save myself a lot of embarrassment by liberating that lonely bottle of wine. I imagined taking it to the upstairs apartment and enjoying a quiet, stunning sunset on the widow's walk. I wouldn't have to feel people's eyes on me because of the golden fairy tale dress, and I wouldn't have to feel heart palpitations because my date made my pulse gallop.
"You're not ready, Riley. Simple as that," I whispered to myself. I leaned a little closer to the open bottle of wine.
Andrew's dark eyes caught me as he turned around, gripping the phone hard. "Yeah, she's here. I'm not telling you about the dress."
"Is that Rosalyn?" I called.
He shook his head and turned away. "You're kidding, right? Yeah, I get that she's got you by the short and curlies but come on, man."
I inched down the bar toward Andrew. "That's Landon, isn't it?"
"Why are you telling me this? I'm not the one that needs to hear it. Yeah, I know, but she's going to find out anyway."
My blood iced over. My whole body dragged to a halt. "Oh my god. I get it now. He's married! Landon's married, isn't he? That ‘cousin’ who called him last night…"
Andrew tried to wave me away. "I'm telling you this isn't the way to do it. God, yes. I get it. Your hands are tied. Sure, no. Fine. I'll tell her."
I slapped both my palms on the bar and felt the sting. "Landon's married."
Andrew ran both hands through his thick, black hair and shook his head. "No. Landon is not married. He's just tied up with, ah, work."
"He told me he doesn't have a job. You told me he doesn't have a job!"
"Landon will clear everything up as soon as you see him," Andrew said. He took his tuxedo coat off a hanger hooked on the wine rack. "He's excited to see you, but he can't pick you up. He's sending a car unless you'd rather ride with me and my sister."
I spun on my tall gold heels and headed for the narrow stairs.
"Whoa, wait. Where are you going?" Andrew raced behind the bar to head me off. "Landon's sorry. This is not the way he wanted it, but he didn't stand you up. You're still on for tonight."
"Oh, no we're not. He didn't even ask to talk to me. Who does that? Are we in elementary school? Why didn't he just hand you a note to give me? Sending a driver. Will you wait? Circle ‘yes’ or ‘no.’" I hitched up the golden train and dodged for the staircase.
"He didn't want to explain over the phone," Andrew said. "Riley, please, he just wanted you to know that a car is on the way. He'll be waiting for you at the Golden Bluff Estate, and trust me, I know he'll be there."
"Great. Tell him 'hi' from me when you see him." I pushed past Andrew and trotted up the stairs as fast as my high heels and designer dress would allow.
He was right behind me. "Ride with me and my sister. She wants to meet you."
I shook my head hard, no longer caring if my bun slipped loose. "No, thank you. No offense to your sister. This whole date has 'bad news' written all over it. What was I thinking?" I got to the apartment door and fumbled in my tiny clutch purse for the key. "And here I was feeling bad for comparing him to my ex-boyfriend, but Landon's just like Owen. No job, or his job is some weird, hush-hush, cash-under-the-table thing that even you do
n't want to talk about. Plus he's too lazy to come pick me up himself!"
"I'm telling you, Riley, Landon is not like that. At least give him a chance to explain in person." Andrew put a hand on the door.
I elbowed him out of the way. "Why would I believe you? You two grew up together. Of course, you're going to stand up for him." I rammed the key into the lock but it wouldn't turn. "Tell your buddy no hard feelings. I'm just not ready to start dating again. This has made that abundantly clear."
Andrew leaned against the wall and let his dark hair cushion his head as he banged it gently. "I really shouldn't be in the middle of this. I never get in the middle of things like this."
I stopped rattling the key. "So why are you getting in the middle of it?"
He lolled his head against the wall to look at me. "You made him smile. Not that on-cue, well-bred smile that I hate, but a real one. He was relaxed. You let him be himself."
"Too bad I didn't know he was a lazy, heartless flirt." I grabbed the key again and cranked it hard.
It broke off in my hand.
There were ten seconds of silence as Andrew and I looked at each other. When I lifted the sliver of key that remained in my hand, his beard twitched. A smile broke through, followed by laughter. I felt a bubble of laughter pop across my lips.
"Can't stay in, you might as well go out," Andrew chuckled. He pushed away from the wall and held out a hand.
"What is it with this town?" I cried. "This place has it out for me! Go get the spare. I know you have another key to this apartment."
Andrew held up both hands as if the tiny chunk of key I held was a loaded gun. "Honest, there isn't one. I had a spare, but I lost it down the men's room toilet. Funny story."
This was unreal.
"Ms. Riley?" a steady voice asked.
I opened my squeezed eyes to see a tall man in a navy blue suit. He tipped a navy blue hat with a shiny black brim off his head to reveal a head of silver hair. When he gave a slight bow, I pulled myself up and straightened my shoulders.
"He doesn't even know my last name," I said.
The driver and Andrew exchanged glances. Andrew shrugged.
"It's Cullen," I snapped. "And you can tell Mr., um, you can tell Mr. Lazy Ass that I'm not coming."
"Mr., ah, my employer asked me to escort you to the estate. My name is James. Pleased to meet you, Ms. Riley."
"I'm sorry, James, but I'm not going," I said. There was nowhere for me to go in the narrow hallway so I just tapped my foot.
"Might I make a suggestion, Ms. Riley?" James asked. I nodded, and he continued, "The gala is a rather large event and there will be no shortage of interesting people to talk to. Almost all are from out of town, and many are from New York."
"Landon told you about me?" I asked.
James smiled. "Of course. Though I don't think he described your beauty well enough. How about we give him another chance to take it in?"
James reminded me of my grandfather, and that alone put me at ease.
"If I stayed in, it would be a waste of a good dress," I said.
"My dear, that dress is better than good —it is divine," James declared. He offered me a hand and I took it.
Andrew heaved a sigh of relief and followed us downstairs. "Don't worry about the door. I'll leave a pair of pliers outside for you later."
* * * * *
James conceded and let me ride in the front passenger seat so when we came around the sharp bend, I had the perfect view. "Wow, Golden Bluff is really beautiful."
Tasteful spotlights illuminated deep green sprays of ivy against white stucco. Red ceramic tiles crowned the steep pitch of the roof. Red bricks in a herringbone pattern lead to the double front door where a wrought-iron chandelier gave a welcoming glow.
"I'm sorry to correct you, Ms. Riley, but that is the gatehouse," James said.
He navigated another sharp switchback and suddenly the row of towering eucalyptus trees gave way to a deep canyon. On the far side, perched on the point of a tall bluff, was a house glowing with golden light. Fifteen times the size of the gatehouse, the estate stood against the starry California sky like a beacon. From mission bell tower to a horseshoe of red-tiled roofs, the mansion was more beautiful, more gigantic than anything I had ever seen.
"Welcome to Golden Bluff. Mr. Michel welcomes you," James said with a smile as he pulled through towering wrought iron gates.
I caught a glimpse of a sunburst motif before we swept into a wide circular driveway, and I saw who was waiting for me.
Chapter Eight
Landon
I opened the limo door, expecting that Riley would be sitting in the back seat. She hadn't come. Riley wasn’t here —she’d changed her mind. My stomach did a sick flip.
“Landon!” Chuck Renault, NBA star, called from somewhere behind me.
“Hey, Chuck!” I faked a smile and turned away from the empty limousine to face him.
Camera flashes went crazy as the NBA star pulled me into a back-slapping hug. "Good to see you, man, how about that half-court shot you owe me?"
I mumbled something appropriate. Chuck sauntered away, and I turned back to the empty limo. Disappointment made my chest feel hollow. She hadn’t come after all. I slammed the limo door.
At the house, sequined dresses caught the light and movie stars paused for photographs. Right outside my front door, a headlining celebrity chef whipped up specialty cocktails. Guests forgot to sip their drinks as they ogled the carnival tent turned high glamour. Everything was sparkling and doused in color.
Except for me. Despite all the A-list guests, the five-star food, and the world-class entertainment, Riley was my highlight of the evening.
James climbed out of the driver’s side. “She’s in the front seat, sir.”
I blinked at him, confused but hopeful, then I opened the front passenger side door. Riley's rose petal lips were parted in a look that mirrored my surprise.
"You rode in the front seat?" I asked.
"Well, yeah." Her eyes were huge as she seemed to be taking in the scene behind me —all the extravagance, all the wealth. I wondered how she felt about wealth, whether she despised it, or if she was drawn to it like so many other women had been.
I extended my hand and waited an eternity until she took it. Her hand was delicate, and I closed my fingers around it like it was blown glass.
She slipped from the front seat and it was my turn to gape.
Her dress caught the lights, but instead of reflecting them garishly, it glowed. The golden tones illuminated her skin. The sudden urge to caress her, test the silken texture of her skin with my lips, made me dizzy. She fluttered a hand across the neckline, but I caught it and looked my fill. Past the clinging folds of the top, the dress shimmered to the ground.
"You look absolutely beautiful." I couldn't quite catch my breath. It felt like a balloon had expanded in my chest.
My driver, James, cleared his throat. "Will there be anything else, sir?"
I answered his barely contained grin with a scowl. It wasn't his fault that I could no longer conceal my identity, but my eyes already burned at the thought of what I would see on Riley's face.
Her chocolate brown eyes were wide but all other traces of shock were overshadowed by a pert frown. Riley was irritated, flashing me a quick look that stung.
"Mr. Michel, may I present my wife?" A sonorous voice interrupted our strained silence.
I turned to face the speaker. The show was over —Riley would know who I was now. The words came out, well-practiced and smooth. "Mr. Ambassador, so pleased to see you again. And your lovely wife! Please, call me Landon."
Riley had turned back to the car and was struggling with the door handle. Trying to get away already. Dammit. I’d blown it. My only saving grace was that, by the driver's side, James pretended he hadn't locked the door behind her back.
I still had a chance with Riley, and I was going to take it. I pointed the dignitaries toward the signature cocktails.
; Once they were on their way, I caught Riley's hand. "I'm sorry. This is all just, it's not really me, it's just—"
"Landon, there you are." Lyla seemed to materialize out of thin air. She grasped Riley’s hand in her own. "And this must be Ms. Van Buren. I'm Lyla Townsend, so pleased to meet you."
"Riley, I'd like you to meet my cousin and business manager," I said through gritted teeth.
Lyla didn’t catch her mistake. She was high on gala-organizing endorphins, and it was chaotic out here. "That dress is an absolute vision. Is that Versace?"
"Vintage. I got it in town at Rosalyn's," Riley said. She moved toward Lyla just to avoid me. "I was worried gold would be a little too much."
Lyla laughed. "This whole event is a little too much, so you are dressed perfectly." She looped an arm through Riley's and escorted her up the red carpet.
I had no choice but to follow a few steps behind.
James chuckled as he got back into the car and moved so the next limousine could unload its honored guest.
Lyla swept Riley past the photographers, one sharp glance warning them not to snap photos. They entered the foyer where Riley's head craned to take in the vaulted ceilings and massive chandelier. They moved through the crowd, under the arched grand staircase, and into the great room.
Tightrope walkers danced across the three-story ceiling, underneath the lead glass dome. The effect was a giddy mixture of the big top and the paintings of Toulouse-Lautrec. I half-expected a ballerina poised on a horse to gallop through.
Lyla stopped in the center of the room and snagged two champagne flutes from a passing server. "I had the pleasure of meeting your mother, the countess, when I was in Rome."
Riley gave a stifled giggle. "I'm sorry —you must have me confused with someone else."
A dark cloud swept across Lyla's face and she turned on me. "This is your date? The con-woman you met at the bar?"
"Lyla Townsend, may I present Riley…"
"Cullen." Riley squared her shoulders and extended a hand to Lyla. It trembled but she looked determined.
Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 31
