Dear California (Martin Family Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  Cole was staring at the office building as he walked, which was why he didn't see the girl step onto the sidewalk in front of him. He didn't see her until he had already run headlong into her, causing a collision where she dropped whatever she was carrying.

  Those few seconds were one big blur.

  One minute, Cole glanced to his left, and the next, he's tripping over a screeching woman, and things were flying. She yelped the instant they made contact, and Cole stumbled a little, but quickly regained his balance, reaching out to steady the girl by her shoulders.

  "I am so sorry," he said.

  "Sorry for what?" another girl said, looking at them as she got out of the backseat of a blacked-out SUV. "You saved her life."

  "I wouldn't say he saved my life," the first girl said as she stooped to pick up the large leather case she dropped. Cole bent to help her, and she made eye contact with him for the first time. She had on a pair of black horned rimmed glasses that reminded Cole of Buddy Holly, or Roy Orbison. "But he did catch me from falling," she said with a sigh.

  "I was looking away, so I thought I might have run into you." Cole said.

  A guy wearing tight black clothes got out of the passenger's side of the vehicle and began snapping pictures of Cole and the girl as they were stooped down together. "I was putting on a different lens," he said in an annoyed tone. "What'd I miss?"

  "You don't need to get pictures, Tyson," the girl with glasses said. "I dropped my bag, and now I'm picking it up."

  "And she would have fallen on her face if prince charming here hadn't been there to catch her," the other girl (who looked much like the first) said.

  The sound of the camera clicking caused the young woman to stand to her feet, straightening her shirt and hair as she did.

  Cole stood up as well.

  The second girl crossed to the photographer and began discussing something involving more photographs. This caused Cole to glance at the first girl to gauge her reaction. Those glasses did nothing to hide her bright green eyes, and Cole stared into them, feeling unable to think straight. His eyes roamed over her face. She had dark hair, and bold features. This, combined with her eyes, gave her an exotic look that made Cole unable to shift his gaze.

  The other girl and the photographer were busy having a conversation in high-pitched, excited tones. She let out a particularly loud squeal of delight at something he said, which caused Cole to smile at girl number one.

  "Rescue me," she whispered, staring into his eyes.

  Cole was smiling, but it faded slightly when he saw something in her eyes that said she was serious. His expression fell to one of great concern. "Are you in trouble?" he whispered quietly enough so her companions wouldn't hear.

  She saw that he was genuinely concerned, and her face broke into a smile. "I'm not in any trouble," she whispered, "but I could still use a little rescuing."

  "I'd be happy to rescue you all the way back to Louisiana," he said sweetly. "You can just climb inside my luggage and come home with me."

  Olivia smiled at the fact that this stranger seemed serious. Her eyes were still locked with his when she said, "Be careful what you offer, you might just have yourself a stowaway."

  "Come on," he said with a casual shrug.

  "Liv we need to get going," the other girl said, causing them to break eye contact in order to look at her. "We should head in there," the girl persisted. "Tyson was mentioning a shot in front of the elevator—maybe from behind, holding your little case with your legs crossed."

  "Whatever," the girl with glasses said in a resigned tone. She turned to glance at Cole with a smile. "Thanks for almost rescuing me," she whispered softly enough that Cole could barely hear her.

  "I'll rescue you all the way if you want me to," Cole said. His quiet tone drew girl number two over to where they were standing.

  Liv smiled at Cole. "Thanks for being willing, but I better be going," she whispered just before turning.

  He put a hand on her arm before she could walk away. "My name's Cole."

  "Why don't we get a picture with Cole?" Tyson asked. He looked at Estela and gestured to the bridge of his own nose. "Did you want to take off the…" he trailed off, glance at Liv awkwardly.

  Cole watched as the other girl reached out to take the glasses off of Liv's face. Liv pulled back just far enough that the girl came up short in her efforts. Girl two sighed dramatically. "Take them off so we can get a good picture of you with your hot little friend."

  "Who you calling little?" Cole asked. He was not a small man, and his deep voice only emphasized the ridiculousness of her using the word little to describe him. Cole really didn't care what she called him, he just didn’t like the way she was trying to steal the other girl's glasses.

  "They're not even real," girl two said, defending herself and looking directly at Cole. "She just wears them for fun because she's a big weird-o. I'm not being mean by telling her to take them off. If anything, she's being mean to me by keeping them on."

  "They are real," Liv said, glancing at Cole like she was apologizing for the other girl's behavior.

  "Yeah, but it's not like you need them. Even the eye doctor said you barely need a prescription. You look so much better without them. They make you look like an old lady." Again, she reached out to try to take the glasses off of Liv's face, but this time Cole reached out and gently pushed her hand down, causing Estela to look at him like he had lost his mind.

  "I don't think she wants to take them off," he said, returning her challenging expression.

  "I don't think I asked your opinion," she said. She turned to Tyson and let out a little awkward giggle. "Back me up on this please, Tyson."

  "They're not meant to be flattering," he said, "but Liv already knows that, and we both know she's gonna be too stubborn to take them off."

  They all looked at Liv, who smiled as if confirming her stubbornness.

  Estela sighed. "We might as well just skip this picture and do the one from behind at the elevator."

  Chapter 3

  Cole

  The girl with glasses and her cohorts disappeared into the very same office building Cole would be going to in an hour. He walked to the coffee shop on the corner (which was basically a Starbucks even though it was called something else) thinking about the encounter he had on the sidewalk. He smiled to himself as he waited in line, remembering her quirky glasses and the way she refused to take them off. He thought they were attractive on her, but someone with a face like hers could wear anything and still look good. He clearly remembered the color of her eyes and the way the greens and golds shone in the sunlight. Cole was still thinking about the details of her face when the guy behind the counter was ready to take his order.

  "I'll just take a cup of coffee black, if you don't mind," Cole said, stepping up to the register.

  "I don't mind at all," the barista said as he punched the appropriate buttons to ring him up. "I saw you talking to Liv and Tel out there," the guy said, pointing over Cole's shoulder.

  Cole turned to find that there was a clear view of the sidewalk from where they were standing, but it didn't register that the phrase Liv and Tel had anything to do with the girls he just met. "You mean those girls with the photographer?" Cole asked, pointing over his shoulder to the sidewalk.

  The barista nodded and smiled as he placed the coffee onto the counter. "Two-twenty-five," he said, referring to the price of the coffee, before continuing… "They come in here sometimes."

  Cole handed the guy five dollars before stashing his money clip back into his pocket. "Are they famous or something?"

  The guy nodded as he tried to give Cole his change, and Cole motioned for him to put it in the tip jar.

  "Thank you," he said as he added it to the jar.

  "What are they famous for?" Cole asked, since there was no one behind him in line.

  "What are Liv and Tel famous for?" the guy asked his co-worker who was blending an iced coffee drink.

  She waited until she turne
d off the blender before she said, "I don't think they do anything," with a baffled expression. "They're always with famous people at famous places, but I don't think they do anything."

  "They have a travel and lifestyle video series on YouTube," a customer chimed in as she waited for her drink. "They're pretty funny. I think they have a line of clothing, too. My roommate has one of their shirts that says, "I won't wear makeup to watch Netflix."

  "What'd you say their names were?" Cole asked, feeling oddly happy at the idea of being able to look her up.

  "Liv and Tel," the customer said, since she was the expert. "Only it's spelled L-i-v and T-e-l, because it's their names."

  Cole sat at one of the tables with his coffee, and the first thing he did was type the girls' names into his web browser. His screen was flooded with photos, videos, articles, and websites, all pertaining to the girls he had run into on the sidewalk. There was so much information that he didn't know where to begin. He looked at a few photos, none of which showcased the girl named Liv wearing her glasses. The two girls looked very similar in most of the pictures, but Cole knew which one was Liv simply by the way her personality came through in her expressions.

  Cole was a no-nonsense guy. He wasn't usually one to waste his time and energy thinking about women. He had dated a few times in the past, but he didn't see the point in continuing to go out with someone he wasn't going to marry, so none of his relationships lasted for longer than a few months. It suffices to say Cole Martin usually didn't have a hard time forgetting women. In fact, if anything, he had a hard time remembering them. This girl, Liv, on the other hand…

  Cole had a hard time shaking her from his thoughts. He remembered staring at her on the street. He felt some sort of primal manly urge toward her—more than just in a lustful way, too—in a way like he wanted his fist to connect with the photographer's jaw for saying her glasses were unflattering. Who did that guy think he was with his spiky haircut and skinny jeans? The memory of Liv's delicate smile and the way she stared at him like she really wanted him to rescue her made Cole feel all sorts of things he wasn't accustomed to. He reflected on the brief encounter, and his heart stirred a little at the way she almost seemed serious and hopeful about being rescued. He turned off his phone and flipped it facedown on the table. It stayed like that until he finished his coffee and headed for his lunch meeting.

  Cole checked in with a receptionist in the lobby who sent him to the elevators down the hall. She told him to go to the fifth floor, and things would be self-explanatory from there.

  There were two elevators side-by-side, and Cole was standing in the one that had gotten to the lobby first. He was waiting for the door to close when he saw the girl from the sidewalk. She had just come off of the other elevator and was walking in front of his toward the lobby. His door was closing just as the photographer glanced inside. They exchanged a small smile, but Cole couldn’t help but feel disappointed that it wasn't Liv who had looked over.

  Seconds later, he was riding up the elevator for his meeting with Mr. Torres. He actually considered going back down and trying to chase after her, but that was a ridiculous thought, and he only let himself entertain it for a second before putting the idea out of his head.

  He was so distracted by Liv that he had to make an effort to remember why he was there in the first place. He quickly recalled all the research he had done and felt confident he'd know what to say once he was face-to-face with Mr. Torres.

  There was another receptionist when he got to the fifth floor, only this one was expecting him. "Mr. Martin," she said, coming out from behind her desk as soon as Cole stepped out of the elevator. Cole could tell by the way she was looking at him that she'd been the one he had spoken with on the phone.

  "I talked to you on the phone," she said, confirming his suspicion. "I'm Robin, the one who set up the meeting."

  "Oh, okay," Cole said, nodding. "It's nice to meet you in person."

  She smiled and motioned with a flick of her head for Cole to follow her. "Mr. Torres is in his office. It's right this way," she said, leading Cole down a hallway and opening a door that led to a grand room. It was beautifully furnished with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked this trendy section of Beverly Hills.

  Pepe Torres came around his desk wearing a huge smile. "Mr. Cole Martin from Martin Outfitters," Pepe said in his thick Spanish accent as if reminding himself who was coming into his office.

  Cole smiled and shook the man's hand. "Mr. Pepe Torres from Square Root," Cole said.

  "And so many other things," Pepe added, jovially as he closed the distance between himself and Cole and shook his hand firmly. "My lawyer's joining us for lunch," Pepe said, getting right down to business as the gentlemen stood near the door to his office. "I'll want him with me when we talk just in case we can work something out." He smiled and winked as he patted Cole on the shoulder. "Don't get your hopes up, though."

  "With all due respect, Mr. Torres, you're the one who should have your hopes up about dealing with us."

  Pepe pulled back and smiled at Cole as if he admired his tenacity.

  There was a painting near the door that caught Cole's eye, and he gestured to it. "Is this your family?" he asked. It was Pepe and a blonde woman who seemed to be his wife. There were three kids with them—a boy who looked to be about ten or twelve, and two little girls. All of them were dressed in white, looking like a serene, fairytale family. It was an oil painting with a heavy, ornate wooden frame to match its grandeur. Cole thought of his dad's office and his own. They had a few framed photographs for decoration, but nothing like this. It seemed to Cole like something he'd expect from the royal family, and he absentmindedly thought maybe Mr. Torres was some kind of royalty, or maybe it was a European thing.

  "It's my family, yes," Pepe said proudly in his thick Spanish accent.

  "Are they twins?" Cole asked as his eyes passed over the girls. They seemed vaguely familiar to him. Pepe laughed at the question and pointed at one of them. "This one's two years older, but you'd never know it because this one's always, how do you say… bossing her around."

  "That's how you say it," Cole said, smiling and nodding.

  "Here's one of them now," Pepe said. He gestured behind Cole, and Cole turned to find the girl from the sidewalk standing behind him. "That's my oldest little angel. She's the one who…" Pepe lapsed into Spanish, saying some phrase that must have been a term of endearment because of the way he delivered it and the fact that he stepped forward to hug her. He pulled back and patted his daughter's cheek lovingly before staring back at Cole. "She's an angel, isn't she?"

  Cole was speechless. Yes, she was an angel, but no, he wasn't about to say that to her dad. If her dad knew just how angelic Cole thought his daughter was, he'd never agree to this or any other a deal.

  "Is this the same girl…" Cole trailed off as he pointed to the family painting.

  "That thing's like twenty years old," she said. "We keep telling Dad to take it down, but he—"

  Pepe cut his daughter off by saying, "I look good in this painting. Don't you think I look good, eh?"

  "You look exactly the same, Dad," she said.

  "You really do," Cole said. He motioned to the painting and then at Liv. "That's why it doesn't make sense that this is the same person as this."

  "She is," Pepe said, pinching his daughter's cheek. "My Olivia Newton John."

  Cole thought maybe he hadn't heard the man right, you know with the accent and everything. "Olivia Newton John?" Cole asked. He made eye contact with Liv, who smiled shyly. His eyes roamed over her eyes and mouth, trying to quickly memorize her features.

  "Olivia," she said, rolling her eyes. "Liv or Livy for short. The Newton John part is my dad being cute."

  "I'm going to lunch with Mr. Martin," Pepe said, pulling back to stare at his daughter while still keeping his arm around her shoulders. "Did you need something, sweetheart?"

  "I couldn't really say anything earlier, but wanted to ask if you could be a li
ttle inflexible with my hours."

  "You can work whatever hours you want, princess. You can work from home if you want to," he cooed in his thick accent.

  "I don't want to work from home," she said. "That's the whole point. Just tell Estela you need me in L.A. more."

  "We'll work it out, mi corazon. You can work whatever hours you choose," he said lightly, patting her on the shoulder as if encouraging her to turn around since they were all leaving. "We were just going out for lunch," he continued. "We have some business to discuss, or I would ask you to join us."

  Chapter 4

  Back to Olivia

  "Estela and Tyson are waiting for me in the truck, anyway" I said when my dad apologized for not inviting me to lunch.

  "Why don't we walk you out, then, sweetheart," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we left his office.

  I was still completely shocked from when I rounded the corner and saw the guy from the sidewalk standing there. He and I shared some pretty epic eye contact outside, and I'd been distracted by the memory of it ever since. It might not have been as bad if I wasn't so taken by how he looked. He had a short, manicured beard with a fresh haircut that made it look like he just walked out of a barbershop. He was well groomed, but there was something carefree about his appearance that had me thinking he was an athlete of some sort. Plus, he had a tan. I could tell he'd been out in the sun. I imagined him being an Olympic beach volleyball player or something. He was all-American, ruggedly handsome, and my heart rate increased as we walked down the hall together. He was a few steps ahead of me, and I couldn’t help but stare at the side of his leg. I maybe even took a glance at his glorious backside, but I made myself look away after only a second. I sighed, wondering why I was trippin' over this guy from Montana or wherever he said he was from.