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 to 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."
"Jesus, Lyla, if it's that bad why don't you hire someone to help you?" I raked my hands through my hair. "I'm sure you could find some over-eager assistant or even a full-blown replacement. Go ahead and be a supervisor and check in a few times a week while you're off living your life."
Her cheeks flamed and she tapped one heel in a hard staccato beat. "Do you really think your family built all of this, cultivated an empire, so you could just pass it off to some random person? Your grandfather and your father gave their entire lives to this place. When are you going to see that you should do the same?"
I jammed my hands in my pockets. "You didn't know them, did you, Lyla? Think about it. Did you ever really talk with my father?"
She frowned but finally shook her head. “He didn’t talk to us kids. We were supposed to just run off and play.”
I didn't let her get away even when a new delivery truck came up the driveway. "We saw each other, you and I. Did my parents ever come with us on those vacations? Do you even remember the last time you saw them before the funeral?"
She gave another tiny shake of her head.
"It was the same for me, and I was his son. His only child. He never stopped to enjoy the sunrise here or get to know me. My father worked, the same way his father worked. Like there was nothing in the world more important. You can't tell me you think that’s the noble, right way, can you?"
I started down the front steps, careful to avoid the red carpet. It was a chaotic day and Lyla was stressed. I should have avoided her at all costs, but I’d been distracted. All I had been able to think about was the few hours that Riley and I worked at The Sand Dollar. It had felt as if my blood was really pumping for the first time in years. The fast pace, the customer demands, the pressure to mix the drinks, and the satisfaction of actual work had turned my head.
Riley had turned my head. She didn't stand out in a crowd with her average height and light brown hair, but I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off her. She had smiled at me from the crowd, and no one else mattered. Not the customers, the gala guests, and especially not the nagging voice of my cousin. For once, all of that had receded into the background and for those few hours, I finally felt like myself.
Lyla planted her fists firmly on her hips. "Face it, Landon, this is who you are. Call it bad luck if you want, but you were born to this. Creating a charitable fund means protecting the resources that support those charities. This is serious work, Landon, and it is time you started taking it seriously. I'm not in the same position as you no matter what title you give me. And, no, I'm not in it for the money."
I turned to stare at her brand new Mercedes-Benz in the corner of the driveway. "Surprised you left it there. What if one of the workers scratches it?"
She refused to let out her frustrated scream, but I saw it behind her tightly pursed lips. "Change the subject like always. Fine. Just make sure you’re ready to meet your guests and do your duty."
I bounded down the rest of the steps, glad to put some distance between us. "I'll be here, I'll be ready, and hey, I even have a date."
Anger flooded Lyla's face with red blotches. She marched down the center of the red carpet. I didn't move, even though my instincts were telling me to back away. She looked as if she might explode. Maybe that was the one way to loosen her up finally.
"Who are you bringing?" she bit out through lips puckered in disapproval.
"Her name is Riley… Shit! I actually forgot to get her last name." I rocked back on my heels. We had spent hours together but hadn’t exchanged last names. There were just so many other more important things to know. "She's from New York, and she’s heading to Santa Cruz for her friend's graduation."
"You don't know her last name?" Lyla's eyes glazed over with disbelief.
"No, sorry,” I said with sarcasm. “While she was telling me about her grandfather passing away, I decided not to interrupt and ask for her full lineage."
I thought about Riley's eyes. Flecks of gold had shimmered amidst the brown when she talked about family dinners with her mother and grandfather. She had such happy memories, but it was the sadness and loneliness that I’d recognized right away.
"Oh god, Landon." Lyla reached up to claw at her hair but restrained herself from mussing her perfect ponytail. She tangled her fingers together and twisted until her knuckles were white. "So this poor girl just happens to be cruising along Highway 1 where you accidentally run into her?"
I ignored where her mind was heading. "Funny you should say 'accidentally' because her rental car broke down, and she had to coast into Michel's Beach. We met at The Sand Dollar. She helped out Andrew and me during the rush last night."
"Of course," Lyla laughed in a harsh burst. "She's a waitress. A homeless, poor, and stranded waitress."
My fingers flexed into angry claws. "Why do you always think the worst of people? Is that why you can't find a date?"
Lyla’s eyes went wild. "We just talked about why I can't find a date. Namely, my cousin is too busy hanging around in bars and playing in the dirt to actually take care of business. I'm so busy picking up all the pieces that you let drop that I can't even find time for a haircut, much less a boyfriend."
"That explains the ponytails."
She covered her mouth with both hands. After a long, slow exhale, she asked, "Do I really have to remind you what has happened the other times you picked up some random woman you met at a bar?"
"I'm not in college anymore, Lyla. I can handle myself."
She tipped her head as she thought. "Who was that girl with the pink hair? Marissa. She was really into reggae music. You bought her box seats to her favorite band's arena show plus first class tickets to Jamaica. Then she dumped you the day before the concert."
I chose to focus on other aspects of that whirlwind romance. "Sorry, Ly. You don't want to know the details, but at the time, she was worth it."
She tried again. "What about the woman who lied about her name and her family? You flew her to Mexico where she tried to get you blind drunk on tequila and dragged you in front of a minister."
"I'll admit that was a bad hangover, but again, that was me ten years ago," I said.
"If you wanted a suitable date, I presented a list to you two months ago. You could have taken your pick." She jabbed a finger into my chest. "I see you rolling your eyes, but those women are educated, well-traveled, and career-focused. Plus, they have their own family money. They would treat you like a normal person."
"When are you going to realize that this kind of upbringing and lifestyle is not normal?"
She frowned. "You find these women who you think are normal but as soon as they find out who you are and what you're worth, normal goes out the window. When are you going to stop letting gold-diggers chip away at you?"
Each woman from my past that had changed faces when my money became a factor hadn't chipped away at me. They had made me harder. I wanted to tell Lyla how my heart felt like a stone most of the time.
I couldn't even tell her that Riley was different. Something about Riley had made me hope again, and that felt worth the risk. The way Riley let her problems and her emotions surface so easily, I couldn't imagine her hiding some long con.
I straightened and looked down at Lyla. "I wasn't asking your permission. I was just telling you as a courtesy that I will be bringing a date tonight." I clenched my jaw as I stared at her. I typically avoided conflict. It’s not that I wasn’t up for it. It was that chest thumping, cussing and being the alpha male role model wasn’t always necessary.
"Now is not the time for this. Do you really want to put yourself through all of that again?"
I wanted to think my cousin was looking out for me. I wanted to believe she didn't want me to get hurt, but there was something else. "What's wrong with now? There's a party tonight and people bring dates to parties. She's just passing through and I thought while she was stranded here, that she might have fun at the gala."
Lyla threw her hands up again. "That's just the problem. Yes, the gala will be fun, but your birthday is coming up. By the time the Michel Fund has another event like this, you’ll be thirty-five years old."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why does that have such an ominous ring to it?"
"You’re supposed to be getting ready to take over the business. There’s a lot of work involved in that," she said.
"I knew it," I snarled. "You don't care about me —you just don't want me to be distracted. If I actually find someone I like to spend time with, I won't be concentrating on your end game."
Lyla laughed. "Yes, my end game of having enough time for regular haircuts and dating and maybe putting my feet up once in a while."
"We're on the same side, you know," I said.
"Then how come it doesn't feel like teamwork?"
"Don't worry, Ly, Team Michel will be in full effect tonight."
* * * * *
I thought our argument had blown over, like the bank of rain clouds that had threatened Golden Bluff Estate while I got ready. When I slipped out through the busy kitchen door, the sky was clear, and I thought I had a clear path to the garage.
Then Lyla appeared like a referee on the field, and I half expected her to blow a shrill whistle. She was definitely there to bench me.
"Where are you going now?" she asked. "Our guests of honor are about to arrive, and we're holding a private reception for them."
"What about greeting the masses that are taking the estate tour?"
"There's time for both. Didn't you look over the schedule I put in your room?" Lyla almost crushed the boutonniere she was holding.
"I won't be gone long. I'm just driving down to The Sand Dollar to pick up Riley." I marched toward Lyla, determined to brush past her even if she blocked my way. "I've had enough of this babysitting, Lyla. You just worry about the guests and I'll be there."
She brandished a pin and halted me by jabbing the boutonniere into my lapel. I had to stop in my tracks or risk getting stabbed. "There is no way I'm letting you get in that little sports car. You’ll get all wrinkled. You have an image to present tonight."
I put my hands on her shoulders and maneuvered her to one side. "I'm picking up my date. I'll be back in time to greet the guests."
She snapped her fingers and my driver, James, appeared behind her. He tipped his hat to me.
Lyla said, "James has agreed to pick up this Riley woman. Why don't you call her and let her know he's on the way?"
My stomach spiraled into a pit of frustration. Lyla had me trapped, and I couldn't even call Riley to let her know. In the whirlwind of our night at the bar, not only had I missed her last name, but I’d forgotten to get her phone number.