Chapter Nineteen
Landon
I shifted the Maserati into drive but kept my foot on the brake. Riley had finally settled into her seat, but her neck was craned to look out the window. I followed her eye line past my towering mansion, out across the gardens, over the trees to the ocean horizon.
"I'm going to miss Golden Bluff," she said.
"It's a good spot to spend the weekend." I eased the car down the first curve of my steep driveway.
"Come on, you miss it too, when you're not home." Riley turned to me and her deep brown eyes defied me to lie.
"You're right, you're right." I was surprised my cheeks didn't hurt from smiling. Not tabloid neutral or business happy or charity humble smiles, but real, genuine smiles. Riley made them appear with just a glance.
"Why were you so surprised I was comfortable in your home?" she asked.
I laughed. "Comfortable? That's not a word I usually hear about Golden Bluff. The hallways echo and the high ceilings make it perpetually cold inside. Besides, you weren't so happy with it that time you got lost trying to find the pantry."
Riley pursed her lips. "Getting lost seems like a rite of passage. Besides, you got lost showing me the back stairs to the library."
She had me there. "I don't go that way very often," I said in my defense. I took another switchback turn and glanced at her. "You're really going to miss it?"
She leaned back in her car seat and sighed. "I suppose you're right about it being hard to live in all the time. All that space. We must have walked miles."
"A built-in fitness plan," I joked.
"Mostly, I'm going to miss the views. It feels like Golden Bluff is the last place in America the sun touches every evening."
I took a few more curves in silence. Now every time I looked out the window at those far-reaching horizon views, I was going to think of her. The contentment that brought was tinged with worry for how I would feel when she wasn't here.
Shaking off the heavy feeling, I pressed the accelerator into a turn. "How about we give you one more look at that view? The Sand Dollar has good windows in the bar."
Riley grinned. "Now that I know The Sand Dollar used to be your clubhouse, I'm going to look at it in a whole new light."
I cruised past the waterfall. "Yeah, that building sat empty for most of our childhood. Andrew started brewing beer in it when we were in high school. His dad was angry until he tried the beer. Andrew always had a talent for a good brew."
"So when did it become The Sand Dollar?" Riley asked.
"Andrew inherited the building when he turned eighteen. He started brewing more seriously while he went to college. We used to open it on the weekends for tastings. It just kind of grew from there."
We pulled into the small gravel parking lot and Riley leaned forward to look at the brewery pub. "What was it before?"
"It was always a bar. My great-grandfather used to refer to it as a gentleman's club. Andrew's dad called it a roadhouse." I smiled as I thought about the different men.
We got out of the car and I held the bar door open for her. She walked in and faced the formal dining room. "I can just imagine this place empty and dusty and you two tearing around inside on bikes or something."
"How did you know?" I laughed. "We used to pitch a tent right where the center table is and camp out. There are still holes in the floor from where we drilled in for the tent spikes."
"There's our favorite bartender,” a silver-haired man said, waving at me. “Good to see you again, young Michel." He stopped to shake my hand. He and his wife were just coming from an ocean view lunch in the dining room. "Best pre-gala drink I ever had."
"You're welcome, Mr. Stanley. Mrs. Stanley." I kissed the back of his wife's hand.
"Is this the same Landon that used to steal strawberries from my front yard?" she asked. Then she reached up and pinched my cheek.
Riley's eyes were bright with laughter when I turned to offer her my arm. The older couple beamed at us and waved as we headed into the bar. Riley noticed every glass that was raised to me and every head nod that I returned, but her arm didn't stiffen in mine. Not once. She felt just as comfortable and at home as I did.
I didn't want to let go of her even when Andrew called out, "Well, isn't this a pretty picture walking through the door."
Riley and I took stools at the bar.
"So, you in a whiskey mood today like you were then?" Andrew asked.
Riley tossed her wavy hair and grinned. "No, I'm more interested in this beer I've been hearing about. If you've been brewing it since high school, I'm assuming you've gotten pretty good at it."
"Award-winning." I pointed out the placards along the sidewall that led to the kitchen.
Andrew ignored the acclaim. "I bet you'd like the amber ale. Nice and bright," he said. "Now, you have to tell me what you thought about Golden Bluff. You were there all weekend, and I worried maybe you’d gotten lost and Landon couldn't find you."
"It was perfect," Riley said.
Andrew considered her. "You liked it up there?"
"Are you kidding?" Riley asked. "There are pictures of mini-Landon in tuxedoes in almost every room. And his driver sings in the garage when he doesn't think anyone's around. He could be a tenor in an opera. Oh, and the hiking trails are the best."
Andrew slid his glance to me and raised an eyebrow. No one ever got beyond mentioning the splendor. I sipped my beer and returned my gaze to Riley. She sat on the edge of her stool and held her beer while she smiled.
"And the wine cellars were a lot of fun. Until Landon tried to scare me with Fang," she said.
"Fang!" Andrew shouted. "You found him? I can't believe that thing was still down there."
"I love the idea of you two running around as kids," Riley said, "and playing here when it was empty. Anna and I used to dream about a clubhouse like this. All we had was a half-full potting shed."
"Speaking of Anna," I reminded Riley, "we better get on the road pretty soon."
"Oh, watch out," Andrew said. "Rosalyn knew you'd be coming through town today, and she's got a basket of stuff for you. She's still not happy you returned that dress, and she's determined to make you take something else instead."
Riley looked around carefully, surveying the bar as if Rosalyn could be hiding anywhere, ready to accost her with cast-off haute couture. Seeing it was all clear, she slipped off her stool and headed to the restroom.
We all jumped when Rosalyn appeared from the side door and cornered Riley in the last booth by the window. "There you are! I have the perfect scarf to match that t-shirt."
"It's just a white shirt," Riley cried, trying to fend off Rosalyn.
Within seconds, Riley was draped in a perfectly tied Hermes scarf, opera-length freshwater pearls, and a large pair of movie-star sunglasses. Rosalyn continued to rummage around in her bag for the perfect Jimmy Choos as Riley backed slowly away.
"Leave the girl be, for god's sake, Ros," Andrew called across the bar.
"I make even trades, Andrew Wyatt, unlike some people I know," Rosalyn snapped.
Andrew chuckled and leaned both elbows on the bar. He waved off a few orders and called over a waitress to deal with them. His dark eyes stayed stuck to me.
I glanced at Riley again and then smiled at Andrew. "What?"
He raised his eyebrows and kept staring, though I saw a smile in the depths of his beard. "What are you smiling about?" he asked.
"I'm not smiling, you're smiling," I said. I watched as Riley backed all the way into the ladies' room and Rosalyn charged after her. "Oh, she's in trouble now that Ros can make her try on things."
"Uh huh," Andrew said without blinking.
I cleared my throat and drank more beer. "How was the take this weekend? Good business? I worried the storm might have chased customers away."
Andrew stood up and crossed his arms. His steady eyes never left my face. All I could do was smile at him and watch him try not to smile back.
His beard twitched. "Come on, man. Now's your chance."
"Chance for what?" I blinked wide eyes at him.
"All right," Andrew said. "I'm just going to come right out with it because you don't have the balls to say it. There's something special about Riley Cullen."
I knew we'd get there eventually, but Andrew's quick bluntness made me choke on my beer. "What makes you say that?" I coughed.
"You are so full of shit. Who do you think you're sitting across from, huh?" He slapped both hands on the bar and stared me down.
"Must have been a slow weekend if all you want to do is gossip like a little girl in pigtails," I said. His stare was unavoidable, as was the sudden burst of laughter that came out of my mouth. "All right, all right, I confess! There's something special about her."
"Jesus, man, I can see it. It's crazy," Andrew said.
"Stop, all right? This is really weird for me and I'm way too excited about it. She makes me smile all the time. I look like a fool."
"You look happy."
I shook my head. "She's intoxicating and I can't get enough. See my problem?"
Andrew poured himself a beer. "You're thinking about your impressive run of bad luck? You've picked out some toxic women in the past, but they were nothing like Riley. Though you're right to slow yourself down. Maybe heading into a relationship at top speed isn’t the best plan. It's never worked in the past."
"Yeah, I'm pretty good at the crash and burn part of relationships," I admitted. My racing heartbeat was tempered by the hundreds of obstacles that had swerved me off course before.
"She really enjoyed being up there?" Andrew nodded up toward Golden Bluff.
"She did." I could hardly believe it myself. "There were signs, right? In those disaster relationships, there were signs things were going wrong."
Andrew tugged his beard. "Yeah, definite signs. Like your girlfriends selling interior photos of your place to architecture magazines. Or suggesting design changes as if they were ready to move in. And then there was that one woman who actually invited her friends up to dinner and then pretended she lived there."
"I'm not seeing any signs, Andrew," I said.
"What are you seeing?"
"What she sees. The best views in the world. The historic value of what my great-great-grandfather built. The people who support Golden Bluff and me." I stopped. What I saw through Riley's eyes was the life I actually wanted.
Andrew leaned his elbows back on the bar and stared at the high polish. Then he stood up abruptly and grabbed his beer.
"Here's to a great weekend with a great woman. Why worry about that other stuff?" He raised his glass and took a drink.
I answered with my own raised glass.
"What'd Lyla think of Riley?" he asked.
My neck stiffened immediately. "Lyla's in San Francisco."
"So? She was here when Riley arrived." Andrew raised an eyebrow.
I dropped my forehead on the edge of the bar. "It was horrible."
He snorted. "Worse than usual?"
"Yes, definitely worse." I sat up and described the run-in.
I finished, "Turns out, at the gala, Lyla offered her a large sum of money to leave me alone."
Andrew's forehead crinkled. "Lyla is why Riley ran off from the gala?"
"She was completely insulted."
My friend's beard broke open with a big smile. "I knew I liked Riley." Then the storm clouds gathered over his face. "Goddamn her all the way to hell! Not Riley, Lyla. What business is it of hers who you go out with?"
I waved my hands to calm him down. "Simmer down. Lyla's in San Francisco. She left before she could ruin the entire weekend. Riley and I got over it."
He was about to slice off a sharp retort when his jaw dropped. "Shit. Am I going to have to admit that Rosalyn knows what she's talking about?"
I turned around and leaned back, stunned. Riley emerged from the ladies room with style. I loved every inch of her relaxed wardrobe and the way it clung to her curves, but now I was floored.
Rosalyn had added a wide black belt that sat on the curve of Riley's waist where my hands itched to rest. Instead of her white t-shirt, she was now wearing a sleeveless linen shirt with tuxedo ruffles below a diving neckline. Riley's loose brown hair was brushed back and held with a thin, pearl-embellished headband. A thin gold necklace dotted with delicate gold circles teased the exposed flesh above her ripe cleavage.
"Oh, I'd watch out, darling," Rosalyn said. "Those two look like they've been talking about women."
"You've been talking about me?" Riley asked with a sharp smile.
"Or have you been going on and on about me, Mr. Wyatt?" Rosalyn asked Andrew. "He likes to complain about me, but we all know it's because he can't take his eyes off me."
The older woman blew Andrew a feisty kiss, then turned. She waved over her shoulder as she flounced out of The Sand Dollar.
"She's made my life hell since I didn't let her do the interior design here," Andrew explained through gritted teeth. Then he looked back at Riley. "But I have to admit she's got a good eye."
"You look amazing," I said.
Riley gave us a shy smile. "Thanks. You'd be surprised what she finds in thrift stores and at garage sales."
"Ah, you look like a million bucks under all those accessories," Ruiz said, appearing from the kitchen. He waggled his eyebrows at me. "Too bad no one around here deserves such riches."
"Ooh, what's that?" Riley hopped back on her stool and looked over the lunch tray Ruiz had brought.
"I heard you were driving back and thought you might need a quick snack first. Try the salami —it's first rate." Ruiz saluted and strode back to the kitchen. "Only the best for the best," he called and pointed directly at Riley with a wink.
"Cheers,” Andrew toasted. "Thank god Lyla didn't manage to run you off twice."
I froze. Riley glanced over at me. Andrew grabbed a piece of salami and suddenly had to fill an order at the far end of the bar.
"You told him about that?" Riley asked.
"He kind of guessed. You should have heard him. I think he was ready to march up to Golden Bluff and give Lyla a piece of his mind. You make a good impression on everyone."
"Except Lyla," she said.
I caught her hand and squeezed it.
Andrew saw my helpless look and came back to our end of the bar. "We've all been on the business end of one of Lyla's rants. Not fun."
"She doesn't know me," Riley said, “and it doesn’t seem like she wants to.”
I could feel her frustration, but Riley seemed determined to get past it without thinking poorly of Lyla. I appreciated her effort but didn't think Lyla deserved it.
"You don't know her, either," Andrew said. "Lyla Townsend's family had to watch their cousins succeed beyond anyone's wildest dreams. And the Michels are known for charity work, but they don't just give money away, so they didn't automatically dish out money to all their relatives. To be honest, I think Lyla's still adjusting to Landon's lifestyle."
"We have common ground there," Riley said.
Andrew laughed. "That's really sweet of you, but you have to understand that Lyla comes from a jealous and bitter branch of Landon's family tree."
"Well, that just accounts for her protecting Landon so fiercely. She doesn't want to lose what she's finally found." Riley savored another bite of salami and cheese from Ruiz’s tray and pointed to the fresh salad, bright with pansy flowers. "New topic. There's a dressing on this that I would never think to add. It's delicious."
"Ruiz makes it himself," Andrew said. "Some top secret super recipe. I bet if you stopped in the kitchen and flashed that pretty smile, he might be willing to share it with you."
"I suppose I shouldn't let Rosalyn's perfect outfit go to waste. She called it a fabulous flirtation." Riley grinned.
"I second that," I said. As she walked away, I admired every graceful inch of her.
When I turned back to my beer, Andrew was still there, arms crossed. "You gonna see Riley again?"
"What? Of course."
"Then you have to confront Lyla as soon as you see her. What she suggested to Riley was more than wrong. It was rude and insulting. Luckily, Riley had enough class to just walk away."
"Riley knows Lyla was just trying to protect me and it's a good point. Lyla had no idea who she was, none of us did."
Andrew snorted. "So now you're siding with Lyla's idea of having a full dossier and background check on every woman you look at?"
"No, I'm just saying that maybe I should cut Lyla a little slack. I mean, you brought it up. All that stuff about her family having to watch my family get stinking rich. That couldn't have been easy." I swiveled a few times on my barstool. "Maybe Lyla's in over her head. I hired her because she was such a shark in the business world, but maybe all this has got her wound up too tight."
"She's wound too tight, that's for sure," Andrew said, scowling. "Don't excuse her behavior. She's been getting worse and worse, and you were complaining about it even before Riley showed up."
"Is she really that bad?"
Andrew crossed his arms. "Remember that time you wanted to order Christmas trees from the local tree farm? She insisted on reading all their reviews, inspecting the business from the inside out, and then she accused the delivery guys of trying to take pictures of the inside of Golden Bluff."
"It was a big order and important because of the Christmas auction we were hosting that year." I tried to defend Lyla, but I was already exhausted by coming up with excuses. "She didn't want details leaked to the tabloids."
"They were calculating the bill on their phones. She made them so damn nervous they couldn't do simple math," Andrew reminded me. "I had to give them shots of whiskey to calm them down afterward."
"That was just business."
Andrew groaned. "Fine. How about that time we found out my sister got her heart crushed? You wanted to send her massive amounts of flowers to make the man think he was nothing. Lyla saw the order and flipped out. She actually called my sister and accused her of using your sympathy to get what she wanted."
"A round of bad allergies from the flowers is all your sister got," I said, cringing.
"She loved it. She loved you for the effort, but Lyla couldn't even see that you were just trying to be nice. She then tried to dock the assistant gardener's pay in order to make up the difference in the budget," he said.
"All right, all right, I know. You don't think I see how Lyla oversteps her boundaries all the time? She tracked my phone to find me in my own house for fuck's sake," I said. "The only problem is I'm not ready to take over all the crap she handles, so I have to put up with her."
"You have to tell her what is and isn't her job," Andrew insisted. "Otherwise, she’s going to keep taking over all aspects of your life. And how do you think that's going to affect Riley?"
"Fine," I said. "I'll talk to Lyla and, in the meantime, I'll make sure she doesn't bother Riley anymore."