Hurricanes in Paradise (5 page)

“Hey,” she said, turning back toward the open doors and walking out onto the veranda.

“Desk okay?” he asked.

“Mitchell, you shouldn’t have called them. Really. I can move my desk.”

“But I know how you like it.”

She sat in one of two cushioned teak chairs on the balcony, slipped her feet from her shoes, and placed them on the teak ottoman, her French pedicure greeting the sun. “I know you do, Mitchell. But I’ve got a lot of work to do this week, and really, I’ve just got to get all of this behind me. You do too. Please, I need you to leave me alone. You’ve got everything you need. I’ve taken care of you financially. Please . . .”

“You know this has never been about money. I just need to know you’re taken care of, Laine. No one knows how to do that like I do. Sorry if this call disrupted your week.” She could hear his hurt. “I won’t call you again while you’re there.”

“I mean
not ever again
, Mitchell. Not just not again this week.”

“You really want that? You really want me to never call you again?”

She heard the shift in his tone. But she steeled her voice. “Yes, Mitchell. I’m asking you to never call me again.”

There was a long pause on the other end. She could picture him sitting there behind his desk, baby blue tie that matched the color of his eyes knotted loosely around his pressed, button-down white Oxford with his sleeves rolled up just below the elbows. One hand would be pushing his blondish-brown hair out of his eyes, hair highlighted by the sun from the weekends he spent out on their boat. His boat now.

“Okay, Laine. The next call will have to be made by you. But no matter what has happened to us, despite what brought us to this divorce, please know that I do and always will love you.”

Laine felt the tears fall down her face. She leaned her head in her hands and waited until she could respond without revealing to him the fact that she was crying. “I know. Thank you. Good-bye.” She removed the phone from her ear and hit the End button. It was finally over. Eighteen years of marriage. Twenty years of friendship. Six months of being legally divorced and it was finally over. And she was glad. At least that’s what she spent the next four hours telling herself.

3

Saturday afternoon . . .

The alarms of slot machines dispensing clanging coins into metal containers matched the echoing in Riley’s head as she walked through the fifty-thousand-square-foot casino that linked the two Royal Towers. Even though the skylights and windows tried to make visitors feel like the outside had been brought inside, Riley felt like the walls were closing in around her. She could tell that her week with Miss Merry Sunshine was going to be a thrill a minute. But she should thank her. Laine had given her an excuse to cancel her date. The word
date
hovered over her like flies at a Sunday dinner on the church grounds.

She walked through the Crystal Gate at the entrance of the casino. The thirty-thousand-pound structure made of two thousand pieces of handblown glass by designer Dale Chihuly didn’t even turn her head. Usually she was mesmerized by the tower, as well as the million-dollar structures of the Temple of the Moon and the Temple of the Sun that sat on the floor of the casino. But now, not so much.

She walked into the ladies’ room and slipped behind a slatted teak door and into a stall. She pressed her back against the door and tried to slow her breathing before she went in to see Max. He had called about an upcoming event that he needed to talk with her about. But between having a date, having to cancel a date, and being ordered to cancel a date as if she were a schoolgirl, she had been swarmed by unexpected and intense emotions.

Laine had afforded her a perfect excuse to get out of having dinner with Christian. She wasn’t ready to start dating. It just wasn’t time. Gabby needed her. She had a new job too, a lot of responsibility, and she needed to maintain her focus. She couldn’t afford to be distracted. So she should appreciate a guest who demanded her undivided attention.

She stepped out of the stall, walked over to the mirror, and leaned against the sink to see if she could see any appreciation.

Not a lick.

She washed her hands, trying to wash away the angst. She knew the feeling well. She knew the fears that lurked in the shadows of her soul because she fought them daily. They were many and they could be relentless. But for the last couple years, she had taken them one by one, stepped into the face of each one, and dealt with them. Yet today they felt like they had come in multiples. She cut off the faucet and reached for a hand towel. Granted, Christian’s presence could make her spine tingle. And sure, he stirred up things inside her that she hadn’t felt in years. But the last horror movie she had seen had done pretty much the same thing. And having to cancel their dinner for the sake of her job was proof that it just wasn’t meant to be.

She raised her head, squared herself in front of the mirror, and gave her reflection a nod. It was settled. It wasn’t time. Her heart wasn’t ready. And it was a good thing. Because he probably couldn’t handle her past anyway. Jeremy had been the exception to most rules. There were days she believed he was the only man with so gracious a heart.

* * *

Max stood outside his office, readers propped on the tip of his nose, as he thumbed through papers. The ends of his glasses were hidden beneath his wavy black hair, a symbol of his Italian heritage. “Riley,” he said as she came into his view.

She hugged him. “Hey, Max.”

“Good day?” he asked as he walked back into his office and laid the papers on the desk.

“Good day,” she said with a sigh.

“Is Ms. Fulton here?”

“Just took her up to her room.”

“Everything okay?”

“Down to the black M&M’S.”

“Californians, New Yorkers, and us Italians, we love black.” He laughed and sat on the sofa that ran the length of his wall. He patted a cushion. “How are you?”

She smiled at him and sat down. He loved her almost as much as he loved his own daughters. Her father had been his roommate at The Citadel; they had weathered pledge week, knob year, and four years of military service together. An odd pairing. A New York Italian and a Scottish Southerner. The waters ran deep and true and their debates ran long and passionate. Max and her father both had the gift of hospitality. Max chose to enjoy his in the hotel business, while her father took his to politics, where he was one of the longest-serving senators in South Carolina. Riley had the same gift. But since she had no interest in politics, Max had paved the way for her first job in the hotel business. When he moved to the Atlantis property and left South Carolina, both she and her father had grieved. But when her life fell apart, Max had been a steady voice. Loving. Compassionate. But true. He got Gabby into the international school. And he was another reason living had been worth it. “I’m good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m really good.”

He clapped his hands together, scooted to the edge of the sofa, and reached over to his desk to retrieve the papers he had laid down. “We’ve got a new contract from The Friesen Group. They want to hold their next convention here, and it’s going to be a large undertaking. I’m finalizing most of the contract and will send it over to you later today. I want you to make sure all of the items pertaining to The Cove are on point. This is a big one, so I wanted you to know it was coming. We need to be on it promptly. If not, someone else will entice them to their property, and we want their money spent here. To help ensure that we get them, we’re flying a group of their vice presidents in this Thursday just so we can make them feel special,” he said with a wink.

“And special they will feel. I’ll be looking for the contract and get it right to you.”

“Go over it thoroughly. Then have it sent to legal and they will finalize everything tomorrow and get back with Friesen first thing Monday morning.”

“Does Claire ever take a weekend off?”

“Claire thinks the Atlantis is her hotel.”

“Well, by the way she runs legal, I think so too.”

Max laughed.

“When can I expect the contract?”

“You’ll have it on your desk before you leave.”

“Then I’ll have it sent to legal first thing in the morning.”

Max stood. She followed. “Sorry you’re having to mess with any of this tomorrow. I know it’s your day off.”

“It’s no problem. With Laine Fulton here this week, I don’t think there will be a day off.”

“Well, she’s a huge author. Best sellers every time.”

“That’s what I hear.”

“Hopefully this storm out there won’t mess anything up for her or our VIPs.”

They walked to the door. “I had heard there was some trouble churning out there.”

“September can be a brutal month for hurricanes. But we’ve lived through worse, haven’t we.” He patted her on the shoulder.

She reached up and patted his hand. “We survived tsunamis.”

* * *

Riley walked down the covered walkway that connected the Royal Towers and The Cove, past the spa, and headed toward the fitness center.

“Just pick up the phone and call him,” she said, shaking her head.

“Excuse me? Did you say something?” a guest asked as she exited the fitness center, a ring of sweat around the collar of her dark blue T-shirt.

“No, um, no. Sorry. Just talking out loud, I guess.” She walked hurriedly past the lady and pulled her BlackBerry from the pocket of her slacks, then dialed Christian’s cell. She’d just as soon get it over with.

His voice came over the other end. “I can’t take your call right now.”

She felt her resolve weaken. Even his voice was beautiful.

“But just leave a message and I’ll get right back with you. Thank you.”

The beep that followed fortified her nerves slightly. “Hey, Christian, it’s Riley. I’m sorry about tonight, but the author that I have in town is expecting me for dinner. And it looks like I’m going to be pretty swamped with her all week. So, sorry, but I think dinner is out for a while. But . . . um . . . thanks. I mean, thanks for asking and everything. But I’ve just got to, you know, make sure my guests are taken care of and all, and well, yeah, I guess . . . well, I guess that’s it. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble. When you have a six-year-old, every now and then you ramble. So, okay, well, then . . . I guess good-bye. Well, it’s not good-bye; we’ll see each other around and everything. But good-bye for a date. Tonight. Yeah. Alrighty, then. I’m hanging up now. Okay. Bye-bye.”

She disconnected and stuck the phone back in her pocket. “Okay, you’re an idiot twice. Twice in one day. Why don’t you see if you can make it three? I hear that’s a lucky number. And this is just the place for lucky numbers.”

* * *

Mia was in Riley’s office when she turned the corner. She stepped from around the back of Riley’s desk. Her presence caught Riley off guard. “Hey, um, what’s up? You looking for something particular?”

“Oh no, I was just checking on something for Mrs. Harris. I knew you had written her appointments down on your calendar, so I was just checking it to make sure I had it right.”

“No problem. I actually wrote them down and gave them to her. And she’s a character, let me tell ya.”

“Well, they called to confirm her dolphin experience tomorrow, so I was just checking it with your time.”

Riley slipped around Mia and looked at her calendar. “It’s at ten thirty tomorrow.”

“Good. That’s what they have. Do you need me to assist you with anything for Ms. Fulton?”

Riley’s brow furrowed as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and laid it on top of her calendar. “Um, yeah, there is. Could you get us dinner for two tonight at Mesa Grill, back table, something quiet?”

“Consider it done. Anything else?”

“Yeah, let’s keep a good eye on Tamyra. Something’s not quite right there.”

“Will do. So if that’s all, I’ve got a few other guests to check on. Let me know if you need me.” Mia walked toward the door of Riley’s office, then turned. “Oh, I did get an update on the hurricane. They said its course has been so erratic that they’re not sure where it is going to make landfall, but they are saying if it follows its projected course, we’re in it.”