"But he's not hung up on the money," Owen said. "He’s all about his neighbors and the local businesses. He's more focused on his roots and how everyone along the coast has contributed to his family legacy. I know I'm not a great judge of maturity, but that seems to be a wise outlook for someone who’s only thirty-four."
I sat up. "What is it with men and ages? Landon was all caught up on the fact that I'm only twenty-six, and I have to wait two years to meet the terms of my trust fund."
Owen sat back as if he'd been kicked in the chest. "Shit. That explains it. Oh, Riley, you need to give him a chance."
"What are you talking about?" I snapped.
"I'm talking about how Landon will lose everything if he's not married by the age of thirty-five." Owen flinched as if I might explode.
I couldn't think. I couldn't even get the horizon to stay still. Everything reeled around me. "When?" I asked, still dizzy. "When did you overhear this?"
"The same day he came here. Landon came to see you right away, Riley. Doesn't that mean something?"
The air in my lungs burned, but I heaved in great gulps of it. Landon had found out the strict conditions of his own inheritance and the first thing he did was come running to my door with a ring in his pocket.
"It means he loves you, Riley. Landon's first thought was you," Owen said.
"Why are you doing this to me?" I jumped up and waved my half-empty beer bottle wildly. "Why are you pretending like that is good news?"
Anna flew out the balcony door. "What's wrong?"
"Landon doesn’t want me," I spat at my friends. "He just wants to get his inheritance."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Landon
I slumped in my office chair and couldn't move. Even breathing was a struggle. A heavy fatigue hung over me even though I hadn't been able to sleep for days. Trying to remember the last time I had a decent meal was exhausting in and of itself. I leaned back, shut my eyes, and rocked the chair, but nothing helped.
Riley had walked away, practically ran, and she took everything with her. Not that I blamed her. I just missed her so much it hurt.
Now all I had in front of me was a long list of emails and pop-up reminders from Lyla about work. I reached out and tapped my computer keyboard aimlessly. In just a few days, my inbox had become a jumbled mess.
My computer dinged and I sat up. The housekeeper from Golden Bluff never contacted me over email, but I hadn't been there for days. I opened the email, declined her offer to close up the unused rooms, and closed out the inbox screen.
All I wanted to do was come up with the perfect message to leave Riley. I was sure she was erasing them all, but I still hoped to find the words.
"Nothing," I muttered. "I've got nothing."
I sat up and yanked open my desk drawer for the tenth time that day. The only thing inside was the dark blue ring box. I grabbed it and sat back, gripping it hard in my hand. Why did I think I would find the answer in the bright, prismatic winks of the emerald cut diamond? It had belonged to my grandmother, and I remembered my grandfather telling me it was the best investment he’d ever made.
Riley didn't think I respected her grandfather. It took a good, loving man to work that hard and plan ahead in the hopes of saving his granddaughter from a mistake. How could I not respect anyone who tried to protect Riley? The only problem was her grandfather was dead. He couldn't see me studying the flawless ring. He had no idea our engagement wouldn't be a mistake.
It only looked like a mistake on paper.
Half an hour ago, I had scoured through every word of my inheritance with the best contract lawyer I could hire. The only consolation I had was that his fee put a serious dent in the sum total discussed. Everything else was legally binding and I couldn't change a thing.
My office door swung open and I stashed the engagement ring before Lyla came in.
She gasped. "Sorry, Landon. I didn't expect to see you here."
"In my office?" I asked, rocking back in my chair again.
She straightened her tailored suit coat and gave me a cool smile. "The Durango report needs to be sent within the hour. It's been sitting on your desk for days."
"It's already been sent. In fact, I assigned future reports to the accounting department because that's what they get paid to do."
"Well, if you're becoming that efficient, you should have plenty of time to get a decent haircut and shave."
I scratched my growing beard and scowled at her. "I might just let it grow."
"Landon, you can't go on like this or people will think you're depressed." She inched closer to my desk. "I noticed you've been, ah, staying in a lot lately. I hope this has nothing to do with the business matter I brought to your attention. None of that is my fault, you know."
I looked up at her, but the family resemblance reminded me too sharply of my father. My eyes drifted back to my phone. Riley still hadn't called. "A business matter. You really are a cold fish, aren't you?"
She sat down in the hardback seat across from my desk and clutched her throat. "A cold fish?"
"Fine, a shark, whatever you want to be called is fine by me because I'm done with you. All you want between us is work, and that works for me." I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes on the desk.
"I remember you carrying all my equipment to Middle Camp," she blurted. "My father called it a waste of time and wasn't going to let me go until you offered to help me carry everything."
"That's why you were my favorite cousin —our fathers were the same. Well, not exactly, because my father had the money." I shook my head. "Seems like your side of the family finally got what you wanted."
"Landon, you know I was pushed to be this way." She laced her jittery fingers together. "My father forced his ambition on all of us."
"He just wanted our money." I turned my chair away from her. "Money ruins all my closest relationships. Even family."
"Except Andrew," Lyla said. She waited until I inched back around to glance at her. "Andrew never let money get in the way of being our friend. When we were younger, I mean. He's not that friendly to me these days." She trailed off and swallowed hard.
I sat forward. "You used to follow Andrew everywhere. You were his number one admirer."
Lyla touched her throat again. "Andrew always knew what he wanted, and he worked for it. Yet somehow, it's all simple and straight-forward for him."
"Did she just call me a simpleton?" Andrew asked from my open office door.
Lyla jumped to her feet and smoothed her short black skirt into place. "I was just telling Landon that I always admired how you worked for what you wanted without it taking over your life."
Andrew swept his dark eyes up and down Lyla. "No wonder you're so wound up. You haven't given me a compliment in years. That must have been painful for you."
He chuckled and brushed past her to stand in front of my desk.
"I can't compliment you because I'm not sure that's really you under that awful beard," Lyla said.
"A lot of women love this beard, I'll have you know." Andrew swung to face her again.
Normally I’d enjoy watching the two of them face off, but today I felt tired. I sat back, wondering if I should call Riley again.
"A lot of women?” Lyla said. “What, do you have them bused into Michel's Beach? Because the last time I checked, I didn't have much competition." Lyla's ears turned pink and she snapped her mouth closed.
Andrew tugged on his beard and studied her more carefully this time. The silence stretched until I thought Lyla might faint from holding her breath.
"I was just telling Lyla I might grow a beard too," I said.
"There, see? We're going to start a trend." Andrew dodged around my desk and hauled me out of my chair. "In fact, I'm taking Landon, and we're going to go start that trend right now. Out of this office, far away, hopefully somewhere with bad lighting and good beer."
"Don't worry, she'll keep tabs on how many women love our beards —but watch out because she might bribe
them to run away." I didn’t care about the bitter sound of my voice. I didn’t care how my words cut her. I stood up and led the way out my office door.
Lyla's torn expression was still with me when we sat at the bar.
Andrew shook his head. "That girl's gonna wake up one of these days and make a change, or I might have to leave Michel's Beach. I can't stand to be around her anymore."
"You'll never leave Michel's Beach or The Sand Dollar," I pointed out.
"Exactly. Shit." Andrew took a long drink of beer.
"Someone's going to have to help her change," I started, but he cut me off.
"Another beer for my heartbroken man here," Andrew called to the bartender. Then he swiveled his bar stool so he could gesture at me. "I've got a big problem with all of this."
I looked down at my rumpled clothes. My shaggy bangs dropped over my forehead. "I'm fine. Everything's fine."
"Liar. And the worst part is that you're moping around about the assumed answer. You never even asked Riley, did you?"
"There are, uh, complications." I wanted to drop my head on the bar but saw the sticky edge and squared my shoulders. "Turns out Riley has a trust fund of her own."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
I shook my head. "It comes with conditions, too. And the biggest caveat is that Riley can’t get married until she is at least twenty-eight years old, or she forfeits the full amount."
Andrew scratched his beard. "And why does that bother you? I didn't know you were gunning to be a groom."
I told him about the terms of my own inheritance and what Lyla had told me about the Board of Trustees. Then I leaned back and tried not to flinch when Andrew's flat hand slapped hard against the bar.
"That bitch! I’m going to find Lyla, and I’m going to make her go straight to the board and sort all this crap out."
I held Andrew back from spinning off his bar stool. "Sorry, man, it's over. She won. I turn thirty-five in less than three months, and Riley won't marry me for another two years. Even I can do that math."
Andrew gripped the bar with both hands and his knuckles turned white. "How can you stand to work with her?" He settled back onto his barstool and shoved side to side in frustration. "You know I was once at the aquarium down in Monterey. They have this big kelp forest tank and a diver was cleaning the windows. His air hose got caught and kinked, and he started to suffocate. He pounded on the glass but we couldn't do anything. That's what it's been like watching Lyla the last few years."
"Jesus, what happened to the diver?"
"His spotter pulled up the slack and sorted out the kink. He was fine." Andrew knocked back another gulp of beer. "But Lyla is drowning right in front of us."
I snorted. "And she was always the best swimmer. Remember when she beat all of us around the bend to the cove?"
"That's the Lyla I miss," Andrew nodded.
"That's the Lyla you used to have a huge crush on." I nudged him in the ribs, and he immediately punched me in the shoulder. "Come on, you weren't so suave back then, you practically drooled over her. I didn't know whether to punch you or give you my blessing."
"Then it must have been a curse," Andrew snapped. "Barkeep, a round of shots. Make it four shots. Shit."
I took my first shot of whiskey and savored the burn in my throat. "What I need is a fucking time machine."
Andrew slammed his shot. "What you need is to burn some money. Call up that LearJet of yours. Let's finish this night with Mai Tais in Maui. Remember that little resort we found with the beach parties and the private pools?"
My shoulders slumped. "I was just in Hawaii with Riley. She worked double shifts to afford that ticket."
"She paid for her own ticket? Jesus, you suck as a billionaire. Let's hit Las Vegas so you can try to save a little face."
"No thanks," I said.
Andrew swiveled back and forth on his stool and took his second shot of whiskey with a thoughtful sigh. I slammed mine and calculated I would need another four at least before the pain in my chest numbed.
"You know you can ask any woman in the world to marry you," Andrew said. "I hear it's one of the perks of being a billionaire."
"I can't. I only want Riley." I stood up and headed for the door. "And that's why I'm turning everything over without a fight."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Riley
"Did you hear me? I could use your help carrying in the groceries," Anna said.
I turned around in our apartment doorway and followed her back down the stairs to the parking lot. There I waited for Anna to hand me as many bags as she could. I lugged them back up the stairs.
"Thanks, zombie version of my old friend," Anna said. She hauled the groceries into our kitchen and started unpacking.
By the third cabinet slam, I broke out of my dull, revolving thoughts. "Are you okay? Want some help?"
"There you are —I was beginning to worry." She handed me the carton of eggs. "I'm pretty sure you don't remember talking to me on campus, do you?"
"I'm sorry. I've just been really out of it lately."
She shook her head. "You haven't been 'out of it,' you've been moping, and it's getting a little ridiculous."
It was my turn to slam a cabinet door. "Well, I'm sorry if I'm not feeling all bright and cheery because I had my heart torn out."
"Really?" Anna snapped. "How do you even know if that's true if you won't talk to Landon?"
"Because then it'll be over and I'll never see him again." The words sounded as if they had come from someone else. I looked around to see who would say something that stupid.
"Oh, Riley, I'm sorry." She stood in the center of the kitchen with a grocery bag forgotten in her hands. "You really love him, don't you?"
I was too angry to shed any more tears. "I loved him, really loved him, and he was just using me."
"You need to tell him that," she said. "The part about loving him."
I slammed another cabinet door. "If I see him, I'm going to tell him how angry I am that he tried to use me to get his inheritance. Who does that to someone?"
Anna stepped back as I shoved the rest of our groceries in the tiny pantry. "Are you sure that's what he was doing? What if he loves you, too?"
Her suggestion hurt too much to think about. I couldn’t afford to think of something so tantalizing. "And now I can't tell him off because that'll be the last time I ever see him and I just don't think I can handle that yet."
Anna gathered ingredients from the mess I’d made and watched me like I was a thundercloud. "I remember when Landon cooked in this kitchen. You two hardly fit in here but it looked like a lot of fun. I've wanted to cook with someone special in here since I saw that."
"Just be smarter about who you pick," I sniffed.
"Maybe it's not Landon's choice," she said. "Maybe it's just the timing that's off. You two would be fine if all these timelines weren't in the way."
I waved away her suggestion and changed the subject. "Is there someone special you want to cook with?"
A soft blush crept over the tops of Anna's cheeks. "I don't know yet."
"You have been a lot happier lately despite all my moping around." I studied her face. "Do I know the guy?"
Anna turned to her cooking. "All I'm going to say is that a crush makes everything more fun."
"Apparently it even makes cooking more fun because this is the first I've seen you voluntarily making a meal in a long time."
"Just because I can cook doesn't mean I want to," Anna said with a laugh. "Well, except now."
I smiled. "Kudos to this mystery man for inspiring you and feeding me. Now tell me all about him."
"Hello?" Owen called as he walked through our front door. "Did I make it in time for appetizers?"
"Oh." Anna's face fell. "I forgot to buy something for an appetizer."
Owen squeezed into the kitchen and beamed. "That's all right because I brought wine and a cheese spread the guy at the store assured me paired perfectly."
"Hi, Owen,"
I said. "Are you here for dinner?"
Anna gave me a sharp glance. "I invited him over. It's the least I can do for him helping me change a tire."
"When did you have a flat tire?" I asked.
"This morning. I told you all about it when we ran into each other on campus." Anna shrugged and got out wine glasses. "How about we start with that wine?" She smiled at Owen.
"Work must be going well if you're springing for wine and fancy cheeses." I scooted out of the kitchen and sat on a stool next to the narrow kitchen island.
Owen nodded as he strained to uncork the bottle of wine. "We don't have to talk about my work if you want to rant or cry or whatever over the Landon situation. How's that going?"
"She's still just moping," Anna said.
"Still?" Owen handed Anna a glass of wine and then poured one for me. "Why haven't you talked to him? I know he leaves hundreds of messages for you."
"I don't want to talk to Landon. I'm afraid of what he might say." I took my wine and stared into the bottom of the glass.
Owen held up his wine. "I think we should declare this dinner a moment of truth. Wouldn't it feel good to just get everything out in the open?"
"Like what?" Anna and I were both equally horrified at what Owen might confess.
"I gotta tell you that I hate your couch," Owen said. "One of my tasks is to find secondhand furniture for some of the affordable housing apartments. You should let me look for a replacement for you."
"Lots of people love that couch." I forced myself not to say Landon's name. The image of him lounging on our sofa as the cat purred against him created an ache in my chest.
"Many people have spent the night on that sofa," Anna said.
Owen grinned at her. "Then I'll just have to try it out, won't I? Thanks for the invitation because I bought two bottles of wine, and I really want you to try the Malbec."
I cleared my throat and studied Owen. "Seems like a responsible choice. I'm impressed."
"I'm changing, Riley, and I was hoping you'd notice. I mean, I know I screwed everything up with you, and I swear I don't want to make the same mistakes twice." Owen raised his glass again and nudged Anna with his shoulder. "Here's to good friends that help each other change for the better."
Torn_An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 49
