Dare Me Forever (A Solana Beach Book)

by Paige Edward

  My silence proved too much for her. Finally she apologized but she had to take the other line. I’d never been so happy to get off the phone.

  My thoughts wandered back to Ryan, and for no apparent reason I smiled. He was so sexy, so arrogant, and so damn intriguing. I wanted to figure him out.

  CHAPTER 4

  Ryan

  After a long, hard run, I stood in the hotel shower, feeling the hot water from the dual jets work their magic against my back and neck. Living temporarily at the Somerset did not take getting used to. The suite was palatial, the staff detail-oriented, running it as a tight ship. I’d never slept better. I’d ordered the same firm bed for my own home that I was building.

  After the long shower, I shaved quickly and got dressed for the day. My Zegna black suit, white shirt, and a Ferragamo tie. If I hurried I could have a good breakfast downstairs, and still make it to the office before anyone else. If I got there by 8 am, I’d have an hour before employees started arriving. I needed the quiet to concentrate. There were a lot of financial calculations regarding the new development that still remained to be solved.

  I took the elevator down to the dining room and was greeted by Yvette.

  “Good morning, Mr. Anderson. Your usual?”

  “Brilliant.” I liked sitting at the table by the window. It had a gorgeous view of the ocean, and was a great way to start the day. I grabbed the local newspaper, ordered eggs on toast, tomatoes, and an espresso, and sat down to read. This paper had the most relevant information pertaining to my work. All the stories playing out across this small community were mine to know and use.

  Ever since taking MORGAN Properties off the edge of bankruptcy, I tried to keep the outside world none the wiser to my role, as a respectful gesture to Jim Morgan. Internally, everyone knew, of course, but they were grateful for their jobs, and seemed loyal to me, their new boss. If I didn’t want the public to know I was the new CEO just yet, they would just have to keep it a secret. And they did. People loved Jim, but some bad investment choices and a hard market had wreaked havoc on the business. Jim seemed grateful that I could come in and stabilize everything. He was a good man, didn’t want to see his former employees out of work, and didn’t want his legacy to be one of a great company that he built to great success and then ran into the ground. He was still invaluable for his relationships with local politicians and businesses that he had carefully built over his professional career. I’d been in the States for over five years, but you couldn’t make these kinds of connections in that amount of time. Only a fool would think differently.

  I sipped my coffee, as Maria, the waitress, put down my order. I thanked her.

  The only potential problem was Jim’s son, Hunter. He was clearly used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter, and probably thought that this business would be his to inherit. I understood disappointment, but it wasn’t my fault the economy had crashed and most of Jim’s investments wouldn’t come to fruition for many more years. Without the cash I’d put into the company, Hunter wouldn’t have a job and neither would hundreds of other employees who worked for the company.

  I suspected that I’d never understand what it was like to expect everything to come so easily. Sure, my success looked easy from the outside, but I’d made it happen all myself. I didn’t have a family business to lean back on. Everyone assumed I’d grown up with a silver spoon in my mouth, but nothing could be further from the truth.

  I took a few more bites of my toast, looking at the real estate listings in nearby Escondido.

  I’d also worked day and night to get to the top, constantly on top of the market, buying right in depressed markets and flipping when the market was at the peak. With my business acumen and tireless efforts, I’d succeeded where most had failed and now was developing the most prestigious waterfronts in the world.

  I looked out the window at the California coastline, which glistened with opportunity. It was mine for the taking.

  Maria came back. “Your signature, Mr. Anderson.” She had cute dimples, and a nice round ass. It was good to see her five mornings a week.

  I looked again at the coastline that I planned to develop. I wanted Jim to help me lead the company to more profits, but Hunter was acting like a spoiled brat. I couldn’t stop thinking he had some plan up his sleeve. I’d have to watch him closely. It was already second nature for me to be paranoid--I’d been accused of that many times--but keeping my wits about me had saved me in some very tight spots.

  This weekend was the annual office party. Even though I’d been here for years, I still couldn’t get used to the food people wanted served. Of course we had fish and chips in England, but not the varieties of burgers, fried chicken, and hot dogs that were so popular here. Perhaps after a few beers I could smooth things over with Hunter. It was never good to have the feeling that you always had to watch your back. And I was happy to work with him and there was more than enough work and profit to go around. Hunter would just have to get used to having a new boss.

  I signed the bill, and left a good tip. They deserved it.

  I’d taken over plenty of other companies and the politics of this place were nothing new. It was much less rough than the streets of my hometown on a good day. Hunter didn’t know who he was dealing with, and I hoped he wouldn’t push me too hard. Otherwise, he was going to learn the consequences of messing with a real boss who wasn’t related to you. And it wouldn’t be pretty.

  CHAPTER 5

  Amy

  Unpacking the last of the boxes, I surveyed my store. Some might call it small--I liked to say intimate. My obsession with all things paper started because of my dad: when I was a kid, I would always be envious of my parents’ huge stacks of mail, so he sent me postcards from everywhere he went, even if it was just down the street. He would buy them from the drugstore on Ocean Avenue and write me long messages, pretending that he was on a long adventure. Whenever he’d pass a flea market or thrift store, he would always make time to stop and pick up some more postcards, until I had an enormous collection. From there I’d started collecting beautiful paper, envelopes, pens. Now my obsession had grown into my very own boutique. It was a dream come true. I only wished my dad could see it.

  I’d been able to secure a bank loan (scary! And so adult!) and built up a bunch of commissions, so that when I opened my store, Sealed With A Kiss, a stationary and gift store, I’d already have some customers. And just in time, as Luke might need help with spending money at college. My mom was going to foot the tuition, thank god, but I wanted him to have some cash and I didn’t want him to work full time like I had all through school or have to ask her. He deserved to have the time and energy to devote to his classes, and to have a good time. With my calligraphy skills and graphic design degree and with wedding season just around the corner, I was ready to make this business really successful. I just hoped it all worked out, and I bet the bank did too.

  I already had a few commissions, but the first felt fitting for a new store. A baby shower. I sat down at the desk near the cash register, and began looking through the different paper options in pale yellow—they didn’t know if it was a boy or girl, so yellow was the neutral pick of the season. As I began playing with the different papers, and arranging them in a new and special way, I’d decided to do a weave of my favorite papers to make it really special. I cut thin strips and started to weave the paper together, which I’d later use as a template on Photoshop for the card’s background. I’d then print it on high quality paper for texture, and it would be unique. I got lost in the repetitive motion of the weave and hardly noticed when the bell on the door jingled. I looked up, just as Hunter walked in the door, holding two steaming cups of coffee.

  “I couldn’t remember how you took your coffee. This one is black, this one has cream. I’ve got some sugars in my back pocket.” He gestured with his chin to the back of his tight pants. He did have a great ass, but no matter how hot he was, there was no way I was going to reach into his back poc
ket. “Happy Grand Opening,” he said with a smile.

  “Soft opening,” I corrected. “I still have a bunch of things to put out,” I said, gesturing to all of the unpacked boxes behind me. “Thanks for the coffee. I have this invite I need to work on, and I didn’t make any this morning.” I stood up and took the coffee with cream. I took a long sip and closed my eyes, breathing in my favorite smell and gathering myself. Just what I needed—to get the day started, with him coming in. I didn’t want to show him he had any effect on me, especially since he clearly had a girlfriend.

  “The store looks fantastic. I actually need a card for my mom. It’s her birthday.” Hunter walked towards the card section. I had a few of those whirly round card displays, and I’d made it up a few days before, but there were still a few cards I hadn’t put out. I thought about Mrs. Morgan and her style and knew the card that would be just right for her. I looked through one of the partially unpacked boxes until I found what I needed. “How about this one?” I asked. On the card’s cover was a bouquet of flowers, hand painted by a local artist.

  Hunter walked closer. “Perfect,” he said, his eyes on me instead of the card. I felt myself blushing, so I quickly walked back to the cash register. “I feel silly charging you. Do you need a bag?” He shook his head no, and took the card from my hand. His fingers gently touched the side of my hand. The familiar charge of electricity ran through my fingers. His phone rang. He looked at the ID and said he had to get it and that he’d be right back.

  He left and stood outside the door, pacing back and forth. He frowned in the way he always did when he was stressed but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I wondered who he was talking to. Maybe someone at work? Just as my curiosity was waning, his voice tripled in volume. He wasn’t yelling, not quite, but I could hear the intensity in his tone. I couldn’t make out everything, but I heard him say that “he’d get it,” and “he wouldn’t be late.” If he hadn’t been so loud, I’d still think it was something related to some property, but who talks like that to colleagues?

  He walked back in and his eyes looked tense, angry and a bit wary. He obviously still had the call on his mind, but just as I was about to ask him what was wrong, he came around the counter and stood close behind me. “What’s that?” He pointed toward the invites and the complicated weave I had only half finished. His hot breath tickled the back of my neck. I could also feel the edge of his hip pressing lightly into my lower back. Despite myself, I couldn’t help but remember all of those great nights we had together in high school, when he was pressed up behind me just like this.

  I slowly turned toward him. Our faces were so close that our noses almost touched. Why was he flirting with me, since he obviously was with Jennifer? To break the tension, I handed him the work I’d done on the shower invitation, placing it between us to give me some space. I was relieved when he stepped back. He might be damn attractive, and thoughtful by bringing me coffee, but I didn’t want him back in my life in that way.

  “You have a great eye,” he said holding the pattern up to the light. I ducked my head down in embarrassment. “No really, you have a lot of talent.” I’m not good with compliments.

  The bell on the door chimed merrily, announcing the entrance of a few middle-aged women, who started browsing the still incomplete journal section.

  I smiled over at them. I was glad to see new customers, and happy that they were interrupting this moment with Hunter. Somehow just being near him, made my thoughts all muddled, and I could feel myself beginning to obsess about the past and why he had broken up with me. I didn’t want to be thinking like that.

  At that minute, Pamela, the owner of Curve, a boutique down the street and my former employer, walked in. She looked as bright as always—she insisted on wearing only super colorful outfits. Today, she’d outdone herself. A purple top with a pretty floral pattern in a lighter lilac, sweeping silk pants in gold, and purple shoes. She somehow always made the look work.

  “Amy, the store is so lovely. I can’t wait to make my first of many purchases,” Pamela cooed as she walked into the stationary area.

  Hunter took that as his cue to leave. “Well Amy, I’ll take this and let you be, although it would be great to see you sometime.” He touched my hand again. “I’ll take you out to dinner.”

  Jamie always told me I didn’t say yes enough to new experiences. And while Hunter still had an almost irresistible charm and confidence, I couldn’t risk my heart again with him, and besides, I don’t date men who are in relationships. Maybe I’d misinterpreted his relationship? This is the kind of thinking that makes Jamie yell at me. You’re not agreeing to marriage, just having dinner.

  I took a deep breath.

  “That’d be great.” I paused as my heart started beating too fast. “But I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Ames,” he hummed. “I’ll pick you up. For old times’ sake.” Again he squeezed my hand. I felt a rush of heat to my face, and I bet I was blushing again. I felt like a teenager. Even though I didn’t understand his intentions, it felt good to be having this attention again. But I wasn’t the kind of girl to date someone in a relationship. Before I agreed I needed to know if Jennifer was in the picture.

  “Hunter, I’d love to. Will Jennifer come?” I asked.

  He looked surprised. “No,” he said. “Why would she?” As I opened my mouth to explain, he nodded knowingly. “Oh—this is about the barbeque, isn’t it? Yeah—sorry about that. She was being weird. We dated a year or two ago, but not anymore. I guess for her old habits die hard. But anyway, no, I was thinking this dinner would just be us, catching up.”

  Even if we were just going out as friends, I felt relieved. “Ok.”

  We’d catch up and that would be the end of it.

  CHAPTER 6

  Ryan

  I sat at my desk all morning and most of the afternoon, planning the project on Ocean. By three in the afternoon, I still hadn’t had lunch. It was just this one last permit to be obtained holding me up. There had been so much red tape before I could start to build the business center, but we were almost there. Making phone calls, improving our projections, and making people see that this was a goldmine opportunity was keeping me busy. It would be the first of its kind within fifty miles. Perfect for business retreats and conferences.

  I had a wonderful colleague, Jenna, whose instincts and analysis were invaluable. I never cut corners or took chances. Everything was carefully researched, fact-checked, and sourced before I made any decisions. I was decisive, but only when equipped with the best information. She made sure I had it. But I’d just made a deal with the connecting waterfront to Solana Beach, and if all went well, I’d start the new project soon after, heading towards Del Mar. I was anxious to get things going. The center was just the beginning. It was just a few local politicians that needed to be wined and dined—they were adverse to change and needed to keep their ecologically friendly face to the public. What I needed to do was convince Congressman Richards that the development would bring in badly needed money into the area, jobs, and a real future. If I could get him, he could convince the city council holdouts of the worthiness of my plan. Maybe it wasn’t ideal for the birds, the fish, but it was for the people.

  The phone rang.

  “Mr. Anderson, Jim Morgan on the line.” I picked up right away.

  “Ryan, still having trouble with Congressman Richards,” Jim said. “He’s a stubborn one. There is that fundraiser at the public school on Thursday. I was going to go, but I’m thinking we should try you with him.”

  Mr. Morgan hadn’t been able to secure Richards support as quickly as most of the others. I’d go to the fundraiser, and I’d have to think about how I was going to make him invested in the development. MORGAN properties’ was sponsoring a table. Maybe I could successfully pitch the project over dinner. I could make them see that developing the entire coastline would make California more like the French Riviera or Italian coast, increasing the livelihood of its residents and the value o
f their property.

  “Good idea. I’ll go.”

  I had a sense that Congressman Richards didn’t trust me, and that was why Jim was having so much trouble. I needed the man to see sense.

  But first, lunch. I could send my assistant out, but I hadn’t left my desk all morning, and anyway, I needed some fresh air.

  I walked to the cute sandwich shop on Ocean, and ordered takeaway. As I waited for my lunch to be made I stared out the window at the people on the street. Directly across from my lunch spot, I saw a new shop and signage announcing the grand opening of Sealed with a Kiss.

  That rang a bell, and the name danced through my mind as a tried to place it, until it hit me suddenly. It was that woman Amy, from the Morgan’s party. I’d heard from the neighborhood association she was opening a store. She’d been feisty and gorgeous at the barbeque, before Hunter dragged her away.

  I went to the refrigerator to grab a Diet Coke. Perhaps what I needed for that dinner in two days was a date–not what I normally did, but a proper date. I was so busy at work that I usually preferred a date who offered good sex, no strings attached. Amy would expect more, but I bet Congressman Richards would like her, and she was clearly concerned about the development and keeping the coast safe. If she was with me, the Congressman couldn’t help but trust me.

  I would be easy to get her to agree--women almost always said yes to me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to have her come. It could even be fun--she was fiery and sexy and nothing like the other women I usually dated, who went from one rich guy to the next like it was their job.

  In fact, I think I needed a card for my secretary’s birthday, and I knew exactly where I could get it.

  CHAPTER 7

  Amy