Love California Box Set: Books 1-3 (Love California Series Collection)

by Jan Moran

  “What are our options?” she asked, perched on a sofa in his home office.

  He ran a hand over his bald head in thought. “Private money is all that’s left in this market, but be careful who you trust.”

  Verena shifted with unease. “What do you mean?”

  “There are plenty of vultures and sharks out there, just looking for tasty companies like yours to acquire at rock bottom prices.”

  Verena swallowed. This was worse than she’d thought.

  “This is bad timing for an expansion, but your wheels were already in motion. Any way you can slow the expansion? Inventory and retail support is expensive.”

  Verena nodded. “Product has already been paid for and shipped. I have no choice but to make sure it sells through.”

  “That’s right.” David said, shaking his head. “Wasn’t like this six months ago. If it’s any consolation, no one saw it coming.”

  “So it’s not just me.” That didn’t help the way she felt.

  “No, but you’d better buckle up for a rocky ride,” David said. “My wife and I are out of the market and in bonds for our retirement now. If we were younger with a longer horizon to retirement, we’d help you. All I can do now is to advise you to cover your assets as best you can.”

  Verena left and as she was walking to her car, her phone buzzed. Frowning, she started to send it to voice mail, but then relented and answered it. “What do you want?”

  “Look, I owe you an apology.” Derrick’s contrite voice floated through the phone.

  She sighed. “You don’t have to apologize anymore. It’s not like we’re not dating.” She opened her car door and slid in.

  “No, but as your friend, I do,” he said.

  She cradled the phone against her ear. “Tell me honestly. Did you direct your portfolio companies not to pay their bank loans at National Western?”

  “I swear to you that I did not.”

  Could she believe him?

  Derrick went on earnestly. “I’m sure you’ve had a rough day. Why don’t you let me take you to dinner?”

  “Derrick, why are we even bothering?”

  “Because I know you’re in trouble. Maybe I can help you. Advise you, at least.”

  Verena hesitated. Some of her girlfriends had remained friends with their ex-boyfriends, even ex-husbands. “I don’t know.”

  “Strictly as friends, I promise. I still care about what happens to you and your sisters and Mia.”

  She owed it to her family to take care of them. If Derrick could help, maybe she should see him, but only for the sake of her family. “Where shall I meet you?”

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  Before she could argue, he’d hung up. She started the car.

  6

  AFTER VERENA LEFT the Cohens’ house, she wound down the hill back to her family home just south of little Santa Monica, as the locals called South Santa Monica Boulevard. She pulled her car into the narrow driveway that led to a detached garage in the rear yard. Walking past old vine roses, she drank in their heady aroma. She opened the back door and walked in, her leather pumps clicking across the dark polished hardwood floor.

  Their house was modest in comparison to the mansions north of Santa Monica and Sunset Boulevards, but she loved it. It was the home her grandfather had built for Mia, which she’d moved into after her parents had died. It was one of the original cottages on the street, nestled now between larger new homes. She loved it and had always felt at home here.

  The twins were at a friend’s home, so the house was quiet. She checked on Mia, who was sleeping again, though it was still early. Leaning against the doorjamb, she observed the steady rise and fall of Mia’s chest.

  Before going to bed, Verena always checked on her grandmother and the twins, making sure they were breathing. It was an odd quirk she had, but after her parents had died, she’d been terrified of losing Mia or the girls. She couldn’t sleep until she made sure everyone was safe.

  Just as she eased the door shut, Mia called out to her and turned on her lamp, so Verena stepped inside her room. Sitting up, Mia said, “Lacey told me you were out of the office today. Is everything okay?”

  Verena summarized her dilemma with the bank. As she spoke, she could see the helplessness in Mia’s face, and she felt even worse for worrying her, but she had to ask. “What would you do?”

  “Exactly what you’re doing. We had good years and bad years, but we always found solutions to our problems. You will, too. I have faith in you, Verena.”

  “This won’t be easy. What if I make a mistake?”

  “I made my share of mistakes, but you’re creative and strong. You can always find a way to move forward.”

  Verena bit her lip, fearing the alternatives.

  Mia took her hand and stroked it. “You’re worried about the impact on me and the twins. Don’t. We are all resilient.” She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind Verena’s ear as she had when Verena was a child. “I used to ask myself, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “How did that help?”

  “First, the worst rarely happens, and second, if it does, you can survive it. We did and we will. I believe in you. You may have to make tough choices, but I know you can manage.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Verena said, hugging Mia. Knowing she had her grandmother’s support meant everything to her. “Get some rest. I’m going out for dinner tonight.”

  Verena walked into the bathroom and turned on the water in the large, old-fashioned, rose-colored tub. She shed her clothes and slipped into the bath. A generous pour of Valent bath oil filled the air with a relaxing lavender aroma, while the natural oils turned her skin silky smooth. Just ten minutes. She savored the quiet.

  Her thoughts wandered to Derrick. Perhaps he did have advice that could help her. He dealt with highly sophisticated financial matters and maneuvers that were foreign to her. She didn’t have the financial degree that he had, and she’d always felt like she was at a disadvantage when the discussion turned to finance.

  Once he’d asked if she’d ever thought of selling the business. She couldn’t believe he’d actually asked such a question, and she’d been vehement in her response. How could I possibly sell this business?

  VSS was the only link to her parents and grandparents, and she loved the work she did. She found it fulfilling to help people discover their own beauty and serenity. If only she could find that tranquility, too. She’d had it once, but then her world had exploded. Now, she tried to summon it whenever she could, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

  Verena breathed in. Speaking to Mia had helped, but issues still had to be addressed.

  Mia’s cancer was in remission, but someday they would lose her, and then it would be just her and the twins. The girls didn’t remember their parents, but she still wanted to preserve the business for them. It was their legacy. Their employees were like an extended family, and she felt a deep sense of responsibility.

  Verena eased deeper into the warm bath, stealing a few more minutes. The more time that passed since she’d broken up with Derrick, the more she wondered if she’d ever had true feelings for him. He had been relentless in his pursuit of her, and while it had been flattering, she didn’t feel the passion or connection she’d heard friends rave about. Were they exaggerating? Or worse, maybe she simply wasn’t a passionate person, or her responsibilities precluded her from yielding fully to love.

  In the kitchen with Lance, she’d been reminded of Derrick’s jealousy, but she had the right to her own life. She and Derrick were definitely better off as friends, which had been his idea.

  Thinking about that evening, her thoughts drifted to Lance. He was so easy to be with—not at all like Derrick. She sloshed water in the tub as she recalled his easy smile. She wondered what Lance had thought of her, and she remembered that she needed to call him back.

  Verena yanked the stopper from the drain and stepped out of the tub. She toweled off, and then sm
oothed a body cream she’d developed from neck to toe. She freshened her makeup and brushed her hair, and dressed in a simple white silk sheath dress.

  As an afterthought, she opened the safe and chose a vintage strand of pearls that had been her mother’s, taking great care to fasten the intricate antique clasp. Running her fingers along the lustrous pearls, she imagined having Angelica’s support. Tonight, she wished she could roll back time to ask for her mother’s advice, but she couldn’t. That made her even more thankful for Mia.

  Checking the time and realizing she had still had fifteen minutes, she picked up her phone and tapped in the number Lance had left. The call went to voice mail. Caught off guard, she hung up. Immediately, she regretted not leaving a message.

  A knock sounded on the door. Derrick was early.

  “Hello, darling,” he said as she opened the door.

  “Hi yourself.” His old term of endearment bothered her. “You know, I’m really not your darling anymore.”

  Derrick shook his head. “Sorry, old habit.”

  “I’ll get my purse.”

  “Thought you might have had another date with the kitchen help tonight.”

  Verena turned around. Lance Martel had gotten under his skin. She suppressed a smile. “So, this is about the chef. Jealous, are you?”

  “Not at all, why should I be? But if we were still dating, which we’re not, that cook wouldn’t have a chance with you.”

  “You’re impossible.” She put her hands on her hips and wondered if dinner was a bad idea.

  “I’m just kidding,” he said, spreading his hands in an innocent gesture. “Come on, let’s go.”

  They got into Derrick’s Mercedes convertible and drove the short distance to Madeo’s restaurant. As they drove, he kept the conversation cordial, which put Verena at ease. Perhaps they could be friends.

  Derrick pulled alongside the valet parking in front of the restaurant and helped Verena from the car. As soon as they entered the popular Italian restaurant, the maître d’ greeted them with warmth and escorted them to a prime booth. Derrick had a taste for the finest, and he frequented restaurants where he was known as a big spender, thus guaranteeing he would receive the best service.

  Their usual cocktails—a martini for him and a champagne cocktail for her—quickly appeared at the table unbidden. Derrick nodded to the bartender and raised his glass to Verena.

  “To our friendship,” he said.

  “I’d like that,” Verena added, though she was still on guard.

  After they ordered, Derrick asked about her day, and Verena told him about her meeting with David Cohen and the difficulties she was having.

  “David’s right,” Derrick said. “The credit crisis is virtually shutting down bank lending.”

  “I was counting on our usual revolving line of credit for our working capital needs, as well as the Asian expansion.”

  “So what’s your plan?”

  Verena sipped her cocktail, wondering what her plan was, too. She was getting nervous. “David Cohen suggested I turn to private investors for money.”

  “Was David willing to invest?”

  She shook her head. “He’s fully invested in bonds.”

  “Of course he is. He’s not willing to gamble,” Derrick said. “Can you make payroll?”

  “This isn’t a gamble. I’m sure of our business.” Verena shifted uncomfortably. “We can pay our employees for a few weeks. Not much longer.” This couldn’t have happened at a worse time. She had invested heavily in inventory for the Asian expansion.

  Naturally, she would pay the employees before herself, though she didn’t have much money in savings because she’d been more interested in reinvesting and growing the business than in paying herself a large salary. Her family had always gotten by on her income. She couldn’t help but wonder if she should’ve have taken better care of her financial health and silently chastised herself.

  “I might have an idea.” Derrick formed a steeple with his fingers. “What’s your backup plan?”

  “My line of credit was my backup plan. So what’s your idea?”

  “His dark eyes bore into hers. “Have you thought again of selling the business?”

  “That’s your advice?” Why does he keep asking that? The thought made her uneasy. “I’ve told you, that’s out of the question. This is our family business, and the employees are like family. The company is Valent, and we are Valent. I would never sell it. All we need is a short term working capital loan. Six months, maybe eight or nine at the most.”

  Derrick’s chiseled face was expressionless. “Then I don’t have any more answers for you, Verena.”

  “What about individual investors, someone who can make a private loan? Do you know anyone?”

  “These things take time, Verena. The due diligence research, loan documents, negotiation. You don’t have much runway. You said yourself that you’re almost out of time. You should be thinking about canceling the Asian debut and laying off staff.”

  “Laying off employees?” How had it come to that so quickly? “No, I can’t.” Their appointments were always fully booked, and they already had a lean management team. There was no one to spare. She rubbed her pearls between her fingers, thinking.

  “Then you’ll have to close the business. I’m saying this as your friend. You have to pay employees.”

  Her chest constricted at his words. He spoke as if the business meant nothing to her. Without employees, they couldn’t perform client services. Her mind whirred and she grasped at ideas. “But we have contracts, accounts receivables, and cash business, too.”

  “Sure, but the financial markets are weakening by the day. Look, I know how you feel. It’s just bad luck, Verena.”

  She gazed across the busy restaurant. Derrick always kept the pulse of the market, and she didn’t doubt what he said. Bad luck? She’d worked so hard. How could the viability of her livelihood and that of all her employees come down to bad market timing? But there it was. The truth. Pressure constricted her chest. She swung her gaze back to Derrick as she drew an uneven breath, hating the decision she knew she must make for the good of her family and all their employees. “Could Herringbone help?”

  Derrick tapped a finger on the table. “Verena, you know this puts me in a difficult position.”

  “Because we’re friends, is that it?”

  “And because we used to be so much more.” He touched her hand. “You were right to leave me. I was at fault.’

  “I shouldn’t have asked you.” Verena slid her hand back. She’d once thought she had feelings for him, but that was in the beginning when she’d believed in the man she wanted him to be, not who he really was. “There are other private sources I can pursue.”

  “No, I’ll see what I can do.” Derrick clasped her hand again. “I know all the important players in private capital, Verena. Some of them are a bunch of greedy vultures. I’ll make sure that we make you the best deal. I’ll talk to Roper and see if I can get him on board.”

  Although he was frowning, his expression quickly gave way to such a warm smile that Verena was somewhat reassured.

  Yet while they had dinner, Verena kept thinking about her meeting with David Cohen and his advice. Be careful who you trust, he had told her.

  7

  SAVORING THE EARLY morning quietness in the house, Verena stretched in bed, her limbs aching from stress and lack of exercise. Sunlight streamed through the window.

  Saturdays were busy at the salon. She was often there meeting their guests, catching up with their travels and new babies and society galas. Verena liked to listen to their skincare concerns, see how they were responding to treatments, and work with the estheticians on new regimens and products. It was this closeness to their guests that her grandmother believed was the foundation of their success.

  Mia always told her, “Listen to our guests. Inspect and analyze their skin. See how they’re responding to our products and treatments. Above all, strive to improve on our
excellence.”

  The past week had been grueling. Verena threw off the silk duvet, slipped into a blush pink robe, and padded across the smooth wood floors through the living room. The salon could run without her today. She needed a day to herself to recharge.

  Seeing the morning sun glinting on the window made her realize how much she loved this home with its groupings of family photos, overstuffed furniture, and tropical plants, which were placed strategically to remove everyday toxins from the air.

  Mia had a special affinity for orchids, too. These flowering plants in blazes of purple and pink and white were interspersed among her collection of cherished Asian antiques.

  Stricken by her worries, Verena froze, looking around the serene room. She’d never thought that their business, even their home, could be threatened. Unless she could find financing, they stood to lose all that they had worked for.

  Not on my watch, she told herself. She could handle Derrick. For the sake of her family and all those who worked for VSS, she’d have to. After he’d agreed to try to push a bridge loan through the company for her, he’d been a perfect gentleman and taken her straight home. Which was exactly the way she wanted it between them.

  Verena tightened the belt around her robe and strode into the kitchen, which was decorated with a cozy mix of antique hexagon tiled counters and stainless steel appliances. Her head pounding, she reached for her coffee.

  While it was brewing, she went to her bathroom, washed her face, and applied Mia’s new serum to a bruise on her face. She’d tripped a couple days ago while airing the tires on her bike and had struck her head on the handlebars. She inspected the faded purple mark.

  Miraculous, it’s healing quickly.

  Never had she seen such rapid skin regeneration. A frisson of excitement coursed through her. As she camouflaged the faint bruise with thin layers of concealer, foundation, and powder, she made a mental note to discuss the serum with Mia.

  She finished by smoothing sunscreen over her limbs, and then changed into slim cotton pants and a sleeveless shirt. Stretching her legs, she decided it was a beautiful day for a beach ride.