by Jan Moran
“I thought as much. Unfortunately, I only brought two of everything, but I can divide it three ways. And don’t worry, it’s all healthy.”
“Smells divine,” Camille said.
“I’m not really hungry, I had something earlier,” Verena said. “Mia and Camille need to eat.”
Lance raised an eyebrow toward her, but said nothing. He spread a tablecloth across the surface, added napkins, plates and silverware, and began to assemble the dinner. “This evening you’re dining on sesame-crusted wild salmon in a white wine reduction sauce, with fresh pineapple mango salsa. Steamed broccoli on the side, along with quinoa lightly spiked with ginger, garlic, and scallions.” After he plated the dinner and served it, Mia waved him to her side.
“You’ve made my day.” Her eyes glistened as she gave him a peck on the cheek.
Verena could swear he blushed. “What, no dessert?” she asked, chiding him.
“How could I have forgotten?” He brought out two containers and opened one with a flourish. “Strawberry tarts with crushed almond crust, spa-style.” He withdrew two half-sized bottles and wine glasses. “And, your choice of wine or sparkling water.”
“Wine for me,” Camille said, her eyes gleaming.
“Sparkling water for me,” Mia added. “My medication might react with alcohol.”
“Smart lady.” Lance poured their requests, and then stepped back to admire his handiwork and watch the two women gush over his meal.
“You’re amazing.” Verena stood next to him, thankful that he’d come with such a thoughtful treat for Mia.
Mia took a forkful of the quinoa and her eyes fluttered with delight. “Verena, dear, I know you haven’t had much to eat, why don’t you and Lance go out and have a nice, quiet meal?”
“What a good idea,” Lance said, taking Verena’s hand. “Actually, I have to return to the hotel to check on a special event. Why don’t you come with me?”
The feel of his hand sparked an avalanche of memories in her, but secretly, she was relieved. The vending machine food hadn’t been satisfying, and she really needed to leave the hospital before she tried to murder Thomas Roper again.
“We’ll be fine,” Camille assured her. “I’ll look after Mia tonight. And Pierre should be here soon.”
“As long as you have two good friends to look after you.” Verena bent to kiss Mia good-bye.
Her grandmother cleared her throat. “Verena, there’s something you should know.”
“What is it?” Verena saw Mia and Camille trade a pointed look. “Did you speak to the doctor again?”
“What? Oh no, nothing like that,” Mia said. Her face lit with happiness, and she looked like she would burst. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that Pierre and I are becoming quite serious.”
“Why, that’s wonderful.” Verena gave Mia another kiss on the cheek. Verena was surprised, but why should she be? Mia was a very attractive woman. “As long as you’re happy.”
Mia blushed. “He’s a fine man. He was such a good husband to Ondine, and since both she and Emile are gone, we thought perhaps they wouldn’t mind.”
After they said their good-byes, Verena and Lance stepped out into the corridor.
“Wait, stop.” Verena pressed a hand against Lance’s chest. Oh my God, it’s Roper—and Derrick. Verena pressed herself behind Lance. Her heart was pounding. “I don’t want to see them,” she whispered. A drama was unfolding before them.
A little way down the hall stood Thomas Roper, dressed in street clothes and cursing at the nurses. By his side was Derrick, wearing gym clothes and sweating as if he’d come straight from the gym.
“I don’t care what you tell the doctor,” Roper said to a nurse, jabbing the air with a bony finger. “I’m leaving. I’m for too busy for the nonsense. Bullshit, that’s what this is, no more than a way for the medical community to line their pockets at my expense.”
Derrick stumbled beside him, trying to keep up with the old man. “Sir, wait—”
“Let’s go, Derrick. And don’t you ever call an ambulance for me again. Stroke, my ass. It was heartburn.” Roper limped angrily through the hall. “Where the hell is Jimmy Don? I’ve been calling him all day.”
“I, I don’t know, sir.” When Roper stopped at the door, Derrick took the old man’s arm to offer support, but Roper jerked away.
“Don’t insult me. I can walk by myself. Where’s your car?”
“Parked right outside, sir.”
“Give me your keys,” Roper snapped. “I’ll drive.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Derrick raced ahead to open the door for him.
“Question my judgement again and you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
The nurse that Roper had been berating shook her head. “He shouldn’t be driving with those meds in him.”
Another nurse snapped her head up. “He’s under the influence. I’m calling the police.”
Verena watched Derrick and Roper go, relieved that she was through with the despicable pair. She didn’t know how she and her family would survive, but some things weren’t worth the emotional aggravation. What did Mia always say to her?
Only one life to live, dear.
Verena threaded her hand through the crook in Lance’s arm. “Let’s go.”
29
“WHERE ARE THE twins?” Lance asked as he steered his convertible sports car out of the hospital parking lot. They’d waited until Derrick and Roper had left before they departed. Lance had the top down, and the summer evening air was mild.
“Anika and Bella are spending the night at a friend’s house,” Verena said. She ran her hands over her face, acutely aware of how haggard she looked. “They visited the hospital earlier. They’ve been worried about Mia, so it’s good for them to be with friends right now.”
“Poor kids, this is a lot for them, too. Let me know if I can help you with them. They’re great girls. After I get off I can always make dinner and stay with them if you need to be at the hospital late.”
How sweet of him. “It’s more like refereeing sometimes.”
Lance laughed, shaking his head. “My two brothers and I used to fight, too.” He turned into a gas station and eased to a stop. “Hold that thought,” he said, touching her hand. “I need to fill up.”
A surge of electricity shot through her at his casual touch. She’d almost forgotten how much she enjoyed Lance’s company. He lifted her spirits and made her laugh. Most of all, he made her feel appreciated and cared for.
She rested her head against the headrest. Everything had happened at once. The loss of the company, Mia’s heart attack. And now she had to find or create work fast. She’d hardly slept in days and was becoming increasingly worried about their financial future. What will I do? She wished she could catch her breath, just for a while.
After he filled the gas tank, Lance swung back into the car, and then pulled out of the gas station. As they wound through the dark, quiet streets toward the hotel, flashing emergency lights winked ahead of them. Police cars had blocked off part of the street.
Lance peered ahead. “Looks like an accident just happened.”
Verena snapped upright in her seat, instantly alarmed. “Oh, no, those poor people.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to go past it.” Traffic had snaked to a crawl with one lane open.
“I hate to see accidents,” Verena said, biting a knuckle. Thoughts of her parents’ accident reeled back in her mind. Out of habit, she sent up a silent prayer.
“I understand.” Lance touched her shoulder, empathizing with her. “Seems pretty bad. Looks like they smashed into the side of that building. Wonder how that happened?”
They rolled nearer and Verena turned away, but not before she saw two sheets covering bodies. Dead bodies. It upset her to witness such a horrifying event. She knew how it felt. Who were they? Did they have children waiting for them at home?
Lance squinted ahead. “There’s a news crew.”
Red lig
hts flashed in Verena’s eyes as a news reporter took her place in front of a mangled car and held up a microphone. Verena couldn’t help herself; she peered closer. At once she recognized the reporter, who had been a frequent guest at the salon.
She stared past the flashing lights. That car. Verena gasped. “I think that’s Derrick’s Mercedes.”
The reporter began speaking. With the convertible top down Lance and Verena could hear her clearly.
“Three, two, one… Hello, I’m Caroline Wilson reporting from Beverly Hills, and I’m on the scene of a one-car accident involving the world’s wealthiest venture capitalist, billionaire Thomas Roper, who died just minutes ago. His partner, Derrick Logan, was a passenger in the car, and also died at the scene.”
Derrick, dead? A cold wave of reality washed over her. Roper had insisted on driving. Despite her anger at Derrick, her eyes misted. What a dreadful way to die.
Another car screeched to a halt and she saw Greta Hicks of Fashion Daily News race to the crime scene in hysterics. “Let me through,” she screamed. “Derrick Logan is my boyfriend. I was on the phone with him when it happened.”
Verena stared transfixed, trying to look away but unable to break her gaze. An hour ago, I nearly killed Roper. Had she succeeded, Caroline Wilson would be reporting a far different story.
She watched Greta race to the scene. Evidently Derrick had never stopped dating Greta while they’d been engaged. He’d lied to her about that, too. Greta must have been the woman he called babe. Verena blinked. There was a time when that would have upset her, but now she was numb to an emotion as trivial as jealousy. She actually felt sorry for Greta. She blinked again, tearing her eyes from the grisly scene.
“What goes around, comes around.” Lance shook his head as they passed the scene.
“My father used to say that. But never has it happened so quickly.” Verena trembled, shaken at what she’d witnessed. Karma. That’s what Mia called it. She wiped her eyes. Roper’s evil deeds had turned on him, thus he had earned his demise.
Lance grew quiet as they drove on. Presently he said, “I know I offered to take you out for dinner, but if you’re too tired, or upset, I can take you home and cook for you.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I could pick you up in the morning and take you back to the hospital for your car.”
His amber eyes harnessed the golden glow of the streetlight, reflecting their warmth. “Thanks,” she said. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not be alone tonight.”
Lance took her hand gently in his. “That can be arranged.”
When they reached the Beverly Hills Hotel, Lance drove around to the rear entry to park. They wound through the hotel to the kitchen, and he led her into his office, which was located off the kitchen. “I have to check on the event in the ballroom, but you can wait here.”
Reaching behind his desk, he withdrew a bottle of cabernet sauvignon, uncorked it, and poured a glass for her. “Looks like you could use this. I’ll be right back.”
Verena sipped the wine, thankful for the calming effect it had on her. Her lips quivered and she realized she’d been shivering with shock, even though the night was warm.
A few minutes later, Lance returned with a small loaf of sliced rosemary bread, olive oil, nuts, and shaved parmesan cheese. “I don’t want you to starve while I’m gone.”
Unsettled by the accident, Verena ate slowly and sipped wine. Though the red flags had been waving during her relationship with Derrick, it hadn’t been long since she’d discovered who he really was. Had he ever been genuine with her? Had he ever cared for her? Or had that just been a ploy to further his career and line his pockets?
After what Scarlett had told her, and seeing Greta tonight, the true picture came into focus for her. Derrick had never been honest with her. In the end, she thought, what a sad life he’d lived. She shook her head and took another sip.
By the time Lance returned, she’d managed to eat a few nuts and a couple of slices of bread with olive oil and cheese.
“Feeling better?” he asked, kneading her shoulders.
“I am, thanks.” She smiled up at him. Just being around him soothed her spirits. She should have listened to her heart earlier. From now on, she would.
His eyes danced as if he had a secret. “Everything is running smoothly,” he said. “The hotel isn’t full, so would you like to stay here tonight? You could relax and have a swim—with me as your lifeguard, of course. No more repeat performances of that stunt you pulled at the pool in Paris.”
“I don’t know...” She hesitated, although she had to admit the idea sounded wonderful.
Yet Lance wasn’t giving up. “We can have a good dinner and I’ll arrange a massage for you afterward. You won’t be alone tonight, but I’ll be a gentleman, I swear.”
Her heart warmed at the thought of spending the night with him. Although her initial inclination had been to decline his offer, she remembered what Mia always said. You only go around once. “I’d like that,” she said.
A grin lit his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. “A bungalow is ours for the night. I also called the hospital and told them that if they can’t reach your mobile phone, to call you here at the hotel.” He lifted a clean shirt and a pair of pants from the back of his door.
Verena suppressed a smile. He thought of everything. She looked down at her yoga pants and tank top, soiled from the day’s wear. Almost everything.
Lance seemed to read her mind. “There are shops downstairs where you can pick up a change of clothing and anything else you might need.”
She smoothed her hand along his muscular forearm. “Come with me?”
Lance covered her hand with his. “I’m all yours. And it’s my treat. You’ve had a rough time.”
She stared at him as if seeing him in a new light. He’d done so many thoughtful things for her and Mia today.
As they walked, Lance told her about the historic hotel. They strolled past the old fountain shop, and Verena couldn’t help but smile as she admired the whimsical wallpaper with its pattern of green tropical leaves—a vintage throwback to the hotel’s early days.
“A lot of celebrities sipped sodas at that counter,” Lace said. “Elizabeth Taylor, Marilyn Monroe, and Princess Grace—even the Beatles. The hotel opened in 1912, so it’s seen several waves of celebrities and local residents over the years.”
Verena liked watching how Lance interacted with people. His easy going style was light years from the way Derrick had dealt with others. Why had she ever wasted her time on Derrick?
Derrick. God rest his troubled soul.
She stopped by a stairway and kissed Lance lightly on the lips.
“What’s that for?” he asked, surprise registering on his face.
She kissed him again. “For preparing dinner for Mia. For whisking me away when I desperately needed it. For tonight.” She ran a finger down his chest, savoring their time together, however limited it might be. She’d have to return to reality tomorrow. The reality of Mia’s recuperation, the reinvention of her career—whatever that might be—and too many bills to pay. But for tonight, at least she would not be alone.
Soon she found a boutique that appealed to her, and Lance helped her choose two outfits and a swimsuit, as well as matching sandals. While he browsed for swimwear, she slipped a sexy silk negligee she saw on sale into the bag. The saleswoman winked at her.
After they left the shop, Lance guided Verena through the hotel’s manicured gardens, which overflowed with a riot of flowers, and past a rippling tiered fountain into the section where the pink stucco bungalows were located.
“Here we are,” he said, opening a door. He scooped her up in his arms and stepped inside.
Verena was caught by surprise, but she loved his spontaneity. She felt light in his strong arms. The last few days had been a nightmare. All she wanted was to relax, have a good meal, and get a good night’s sleep. And feel these incredible arms around me.
Drawing close
r to him, their lips found each other’s naturally. The moment he touched her mouth with his own was magic, and all the delights of Paris rushed back to her. This was the man she wanted.
“I really needed this break.” She kissed him again. And I need to laugh with a handsome chef, she decided, adding to her list.
He put her down gently. “Hungry?”
“Starving, but I’d like to take a bath first.” She needed to wash off the vile scents of Thomas Roper, Derrick Logan, and death.
Verena turned around and caught her breath, delighted at the spacious, sumptuous interior. A gleaming marble foyer stretched before them. A fireplace graced the sitting area, and a chandelier cast a soft, sparkling glow throughout the room. To one side was the kitchen and a dining area, and the bedroom was in the rear.
While she explored the bungalow, Lance opened a bottle of chilled champagne that had been delivered to the room.
Verena slipped off her shoes, curling her toes into the creamy thick carpet. The jade green marble bathroom had a deep soaking tub and a separate glass shower large enough for two. She leaned in to smell a bouquet of fresh lilies, trailed her fingers along the plush canopied bed, and pushed open a pair of French doors.
“We have our own private pool,” Verena said, stepping into the enclosed patio. Tropical plants, twin topiaries, and an espaliered lemon tree were dotted around the space. An outdoor shower awaited them off to one side. She found herself thinking that people could fall in love here, and wondered how many people had.
“I feel an after dinner swim calling to me.” Lance handed her a glass of champagne. “By the way, your bath is running, mademoiselle.” He ran a hand down the length of her arm, and she felt a thrill at his touch. He’d put on jazz music, and she could hear the water running in the bathroom.
She shook her head in amazement. “Do you always think of everything?”
“I try to. I’m in the hospitality business, so I’m trained to anticipate what people might like to make them comfortable.” Slipping a finger into her waistband, he tugged her toward him. “But for you, it’s my pleasure.”