Chapter Four
Landon
I stood still and counted my lucky stars when Riley regained her balance but didn’t step away. Her hair smelled like sunlight and fresh ocean air. Her scent was more intoxicating than the whiskey had been, and I swayed. She looked up, inches from me, and smiled at the stars.
"How did you know this was up here?" Riley asked.
I knew every rung of the ladder, every railing of the balcony, and every view from the widow's walk. When things felt like they might come crashing down at any minute, I imagined this very spot.
"Andrew and I came up here all the time when we were kids," I said.
Riley raised an eyebrow at me. "You seem more familiar with it than that."
She assumed I brought women here, that I’d tried this very same move, and I almost laughed out loud. Why had I never thought of it? I racked my memory but could not think of any women I had even brought to The Sand Dollar, much less upstairs.
My smile faded. "Remember how I told you my parents were really busy? Well, my house was, um, empty. And it was always busy here. The Wyatts looked after me and let me stay up here sometimes."
Now both of Riley's eyebrows were up in surprise. "You really have roots here."
"I know, I know, strange for a jobless moocher, huh?" I asked.
It was dark, but I could see her sarcastic grin had disappeared. Now her smile was softer. "No, I'm, I guess I'm just jealous," she stammered. "I moved away from my home state. It must be nice to live around people who have known your family your whole life."
I bit my lip. "It's all right, but sometimes it’s a little too much."
She took in the view again. "You want to leave?"
"I escape through travel," I said.
Riley turned and grabbed my arm as she found her footing on the ladder. Two rungs down, she tugged my arm until I was close to her. "Admit it. You secretly love it here and don't want to leave."
I took a minute to catch my breath before I followed her down the ladder. The widow's walk didn’t allow for much pacing despite its name. I spun back and forth a few times, my hands on my belt loops. I had spent nearly a decade on the widow's walk, swearing to myself that I would travel far away and never come back. Every time I was at The Sand Dollar, I did everything I could to avoid the upstairs and widow's walk unless I was blind drunk. Yet tonight it was the only place I wanted to be.
I jumped down the last two rungs of the ladder and heard Andrew knocking on the door. "I got it," I told Riley. She had taken a seat on one corner of the sofa and might have left room for me.
"Fresh linens," Andrew said. He choked a little when he saw my face. "Thought you didn't like coming up here."
"It's better than being me in that bar crowd," I said.
Andrew nodded. "Fair enough. We're totally slammed. And the gala crowd expects a high level of service, you know, quick orders, extra attention. I'm not sure we can handle it."
I leaned on the doorframe. "How's Ruiz? Isn't this usually the time he quits?" Riley stood up and I explained, "Ruiz gets mad and quits every year right about now."
"And you don't think you should help your friends?" she asked.
"What? Volunteer to pour drinks at the bar?" I asked, and then choked on a chuckle.
Andrew snorted and then could not hold back his laughter. We collapsed against the door and laughed, but Riley only folded her arms over her chest. It took a minute to pull ourselves together, especially after Andrew imagined out loud a few drink order scenarios from our favorite gala guests.
"Well, if he's incapable of helping, then I could," Riley said. "That way I wouldn't feel bad about staying in this apartment."
Andrew shook his head. "You don't have to worry about that. The apartment is empty and you're welcome to stay as long as you like."
I didn't like the way my best friend sized me up as he told Riley that, but I would have to wait and ask him about it after the rush. "I'm not incapable of helping."
"It's just he's, um, him," Andrew tried.
Riley threw her hands in the air. "Either way, I'm me and it's no problem for me to help you. I'd be happy to." She pushed past Andrew and headed downstairs.
We caught up with her behind the bar, tying on a black apron. "I'll take orders from the standing customers so the crowd by the bar can spread out," she said.
Andrew looked at me with wide eyes. "If you man the bar, I can help in the dining hall and keep Ruiz in the kitchen."
"You got it, boss," I said.
Andrew stopped at the door to the kitchen. "You know this is totally ridiculous, right?"
"Better to be ridiculous than incapable," I said and tied on a black apron. "Who needs a drink?"
A wave of gasps and surprised chuckles answered me. Riley flashed me a curious look from the middle of the room, but I just shrugged.
"Taking up a new hobby, eh, Mr. Landon? I remember moonlighting as an usher once just to see how the other half lived," a familiar-looking elderly gentleman said with a grin. "I'll have a scotch and soda."
"Three vodka gimlets, please," a trio of tanned and manicured women cooed.
"On the house, ladies, as long as you show me I. D," I said.
The older woman giggled and left an enormous tip on the bar. I made the drinks as Andrew swung by to check on me.
"The word's spreading like wildfire," Andrew said. "Has Riley figured out who you are yet?"
I watched her honey-brown hair bobbing as she memorized drink orders. "I don't know. I can't worry about that —I had a great idea. Get a bigger tip jar and write Michel's Fund on it."
The orders picked up and I didn't stop for what felt like hours. Andrew swung by as often as he could and his news was always the same.
"I bribed Ruiz and the staff not to say anything. You owe them a grill-out at your place," he said.
"Fine, thanks. You're doing the grilling," I called out.
Riley smiled as she set her tray down and recited a litany of drinks. "The crowd is really responding to you. What's going on?"
I made her drink orders as quickly as I could. Thank god for my time spent in a college fraternity that liked to host open bar events. "Why question when things are going so good?"
When the crowd finally thinned and business slowed to a trickle, the tip jar was overflowing. I slumped against the side of the bar, feet aching.
Riley, on the other hand, bounced over. "Wow, that's amazing! This Michel's Fund must be one great charity."
"Actually, it serves over one hundred charities dedicated to children's well-being, medical advancements, and community enrichment."
She blinked her chocolate brown eyes a few times before she said, "Did you practice that?"
"Everyone knows that line around here," Andrew jumped in. "The Michels are very generous people, and we're proud to help support their charitable work."
The few remaining patrons jumped in their seats when Ruiz kicked open the kitchen door and carried in a tray laden with food. "Snacks for the surviving staff and our charming volunteer."
"Thanks, Ruiz," I said.
The chef rolled his eyes. "Not you. The charming volunteer. You were a life-saver, Riley. Thank god you were here to help."
"I think I'm starting to like Michel's Beach." Her cheeks darkened into a rosy blush, and I felt a burst of heat in my chest.
Ruiz caught me looking at Riley and slapped me on the back. "And you, now that we know you actually can work, you better be down here in the trenches more often, bro."
"Was this really your first time volunteering to help?" Riley asked. "How is that possible in a town this small?"
"Yeah, bro, what exactly do you do during the gala weekend?" Ruiz asked with a smile that dared me to answer.
I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow. "We all have our roles to play when the locusts —I mean, guests—come to town."
"You did a great job in the role of bartender," Riley said.
The compliment surprised everyone, including Riley. She rubbed a hand over her pink cheeks and checked her watch.
"Thanks," I said. "Crab puff?"
Riley looked at the decadent tray Ruiz had prepared but shook her head. "I think I'm just going to grab my things from the car. It's been a long day."
"I'll walk you out," I said and held the door open for her.
"Wow, the parking lot really cleared out, didn't it," she said. "Looks I'm the only one left except for, whoa, is that a Maserati?"
I steered her away from my car. "Not everyone can have a reliable convertible like you. Though, I gotta confess, I'm glad you coasted into Michel's Beach."
She popped the trunk and grabbed one small suitcase. "Me too, except for the whole missing my best friend's graduation," she sighed.
"You know, I've been thinking about that and I can help you," I said.
She looked around the bare parking lot. "How? Do you have a car?"
"Sure," I said. "Or a boat, or a seaplane…but I think that's probably overkill for a trip down to Santa Cruz. How about a helicopter?"
Riley shoved me as she walked around me and back to The Sand Dollar. "Yeah, sounds great. You just pick me up on Monday in your helicopter and we'll fly over the rainbow."
I stopped. "You don't believe me. All right, yeah, I get that. But what if I told you I really did have all those things?"
"And, what? You've been lying this whole evening? It's all right, Landon, not everyone has a job all the time," she said. "I mean, I don't have a job right now."
"I bet Andrew would give you one at The Sand Dollar," I said.
"Bet he'd give you one, too."
I grabbed her arm before she could go inside. "Look, what if I could arrange a ride that would get you to Santa Cruz for your friend's graduation, guaranteed?"
"How?" she asked.
The words stopped in my throat. It would have been the perfect time to tell Riley the truth. Instead, I wove together a few half-truths. "A lot of the gala guests are very wealthy, so they fly in on helicopters. I happen to know a few of the pilots, and I'm sure one of them will be heading to Santa Cruz from here."
She studied my face. "And you're going to convince them to take a woman you hardly know as a favor to you? What about my rental car?"
"Andrew and I will take care of it when the mechanic shows," I said.
Riley shook her head. "I wouldn't know how to repay you."
I dodged in front of her. "What if I told you I had an idea about that too?"
She smiled. "You've got lots of ideas."
"I'm full of them," I said with a grin.
"You're full of something." Riley laughed and tapped her foot. "All right, what would the deal be for a helicopter ride to Santa Cruz? You're not going to turn out to be a total creep, are you?"
I took her bag off her shoulder and slung it over my own. "No, nothing like that. It's just that I have to go to the gala event and it's really not my scene. If you go with me, as my date, I think I could maybe stand it."
Riley crossed her arms and continued to tap her foot. "All I know about this gala is that it has something to do with the Michel family and the charities they support."
"That's about it," I said. "The Michels open their home, the Golden Bluff Estate, once a year for these big parties. It's like a cocktail party, private concert, ball, and silent auction all rolled into one perfectly themed and decorated event."
"So why don't you like going?" she asked.
I scrubbed the back of my neck. "It's a lot of rich folks wanting to impress each other, and they always want me to join a country club or a yacht club or their yearly trek to Provence. They want everyone to join so we can all start thinking alike and having the same opinions."
Riley crinkled her forehead. "You're not really selling it well."
"Free champagne, free five-star food, world-class musicians, and swag bags worth more than your rental car?"
"Nice try, but I can't," Riley said.
"Is it me? I can explain."
She laughed and laid a hand on my arm. "No, it's not you. It's just that I am clearly an outsider in Michel's Beach. In California, for that matter. I don't really want to go to a fancy party where I will stick out even worse."
"You fit in just fine tonight," I pointed out.
"As a waitress."
I caught her hand before she could remove it from my arm. "As a local. I mean, you made Ruiz happy. The whole town should be giving you a medal."
She smiled but it faded. "I've been in one place so long that it feels really strange to be out here. I'm not even sure if I can do it. I mean, I've already screwed up my first independent trip and got myself stranded here. I have no idea what I'm doing. What if people ask me what I do?"
I chuckled. "Tell 'em what I always do. 'I'm living life.'"
Riley rolled her eyes. "Does that actually work?"
I thought of Lyla's irate response earlier that afternoon. "No, now that I think about it, it doesn't work. Stick with just smiling and nodding."
"Is that what you do?"
I smiled and nodded until she smacked my arm. "Ouch. All right, that settles it. You're coming to the gala as my date."
I swung open The Sand Dollar door and grabbed a cocktail napkin off the bar. I scribbled my name and phone number on it and handed it to Riley.
"I'll pick you up here at noon tomorrow," I said. Then my phone jangled and I broke off into curses. "Sorry, I have to get that. It's my cousin again."
I watched as Ruiz made Riley a plate. At least she wouldn't be going upstairs for a minute.
"Bad timing, Lyla," I said.
"Oh, so you do know how to tell time?" she snapped. "That's interesting because it's almost two a.m. and you're still not here."
"Oh my god, did you wait up for me?"
"Don't be stupid, Landon," Lyla said. "I have better things to do than wonder how you’re wasting your time. I have an overseas conference call. You know, work."
"I'm sorry I lost track of time. Something came up at The Sand Dollar."
"See?" Lyla chirped. "I don't have to wonder how you're wasting your time because you're always doing the same thing."
I turned away from Riley and my friends eating by the bar and hissed into my phone. "You're the one who's always encouraging me to participate in pre-gala events."
"Like golf, Landon. Or sailing. Something with a little dignity. Not just bellying up to the bar and getting drunk!"
"It wasn't like that," I said. "In fact, I raised a bunch of money for the fund. I haven't counted it yet, but some people were tipping with hundred dollar bills."
Her voice dropped to a sharp monotone. "So it's true? You jumped behind the bar and started serving drinks?"
I slapped a hand to my forehead. "All right, go ahead, Lyla, tell me exactly what I did wrong this time."
My cousin heaved a huge sigh. "The Michels have a brand, Landon, one that projects a very high level of breeding, education, and elegance. Serving drinks in the local dive doesn't really fit that image, does it?"
I watched Riley telling the story of her drive. Her hair caught the light in shots of gold as she tossed her head wildly and re-enacted coasting into the parking lot. Andrew, Ruiz, and the staff laughed.
"You should know by now that I'm more interested in being a human than a brand," I said. "Oh, by the way, I'm bringing a date to the gala."
"What? Who?" she spluttered. "Please, for the love of god, tell me you did not meet her at The Sand Dollar tonight."
"Technically, it was this afternoon."
Lyla sucked air in between her teeth. "Well, whoever she is, remind her that this is a black-tie, formal event. She can't show up in a sundress and flip-flops."
"Nice talking to you." I hung up my phone and swore under my breath. I knew Lyla was just looking out for me, but the idea of her judging Riley made me livid.
I turned around and caught Andrew's worried look from across the room. I shrugged, but he still looked concerned.
Next to him, Riley was shooting me curious glances from under her impossibly thick eyelashes. I should have been jumping for joy. Riley had agreed to be my date and for the first time in the last three years, I was actually looking forward to the gala. I tried to shake off Lyla's call and started across the room to join my friends.
"I know it might not look like it, but Landon's under a lot of pressure. There's a lot expected from him—"
"Thanks, Andrew, but I believe Riley already agreed to be my date to the gala, right?" I asked her.
She gave the semi-circle of curious faces a shy smile. "Yes, I agreed to go with him. But don't worry, I don't expect too much. I mean, I hardly expect you to get up before noon in time to pick me up."
"You know, I'm not the same as that creep that keeps texting you. Because you've got me all wrong," I said.
"Yeah, I think I did get you all wrong," Riley said, her eyes flashing with annoyance. She plucked her bag off my shoulder and started for the stairs. "Thanks for everything, Andrew. Ruiz, the food was wonderful. Nice to meet everyone."
I banged my head on the low ceiling stairwell as I tried to follow her. "Riley, please. I'm sorry. My cousin just got under my skin."
She turned on a higher step and we stood eye to eye. "You were right. I don't know anything about you, so maybe it's better if we went our separate ways."
"Please. I know it's crazy, but you're the only person who can make tomorrow bearable. I'm sorry I snapped at you. I don't know anything about your ex-boyfriend, and I shouldn’t have said anything."
Riley drew a deep breath and let it out on a shaky sigh. "You're right about that, too. Just because my ex-boyfriend acted a certain way doesn’t mean every man is like that. I'm sorry. It's just been a hard day."
I nodded. "Your grandfather. I forgot. I'm so sorry, Riley. You wanted to sit and remember him in private, and I dragged you into a crazy shift at an overcrowded bar."
A smile brightened the corners of her mouth. "I think that was for the best. I didn't have a chance to be sad. And all night I kept thinking how he would have loved to hear the story of my day today."
"Well, I know everyone in Michel's Beach will agree that your bad day turned out to be a great thing for us. You fit in well around here."
Her cheeks reddened again. "So, is there really a Michel?" She glanced out the porthole window in the stairwell and up the dark hills. "I'm imagining him sitting up there like some sort of Gatsby. Does he show up to these things or does he just watch from some high window?"
"You can find out tomorrow when you come to the gala with me," I said.
She laughed and continued up the stairs. I walked her to the door of the small apartment. There she turned and gave me a shy, searching look.
"Is there anything else I should know before tomorrow?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, relieved to have thought of something concrete to tell her. "The gala is a black-tie, formal event." I eyed her small suitcase doubtfully.
"Formal beach wear?" Riley teased. "I'll polish up my flip-flops tonight."
"Sorry, no flip-flops allowed," I said. "Unless you have a real dress in that suitcase, we're going to have to send you to the nearest boutique."
Riley shook her head. "I have a black dress packed and I promise it will be wrinkle-free by tomorrow. It might not be the fanciest, but it's black and no one will notice."
I cleared my throat. "It's formal. Very. As in tuxedoes and floor-length dresses. You know how celebrities rent fancy necklaces and things to impress people on the red carpet? Well, people buy new jewels just for this party."
Riley sized me up. "Are you screwing with me?"
I looked down at my dirty jeans and scuffed loafers. I wasn't even wearing socks. "I'm not screwing with you. You can ask the guys downstairs. Andrew had to learn how to tie a bowtie for these parties."
"So, what? You've rented a tux for tomorrow, and you want to make sure I don't embarrass you?" Riley asked.
I brushed a honey-brown wave of hair off her shoulder. "Frankly, you can wear whatever you want and I'll still be overjoyed that you're there with me. I'm just telling you because you were worried about feeling like an outsider. I'm sure that would feel even more pronounced if you weren't dressed right."
"You think I'm going to back out now?" Riley asked. "Fat chance."
I swooped in and kissed her cheek. "You won't regret it. Believe me."
"I might, but I’m not sure I can trust you. You just said there’s a boutique in town. So far I've only seen four buildings, and we're in one of them."
I laughed. "The boutique is the last building in this row. It has all the windsocks flying around during the day."
"I'm getting a formal dress at a souvenir shop?"
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text. "Rosalyn owns the shop. She outfits most of the locals. I sent her a message and told her to expect you."
Riley brushed a kiss across my cheek. "Thanks."
"What was that for?" I asked.
"For making a hard day into a fun story." She unlocked the apartment and slipped inside.
I waited until my breath came back before I headed home.