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

by Jan Moran

  Scarlett clung to her mother and wiped tears from her eyes. Her mother always had a way of putting things into perspective for her. Perhaps it was the deaths of her husband and her son that made Isabel appreciate a simple life. To Scarlett, these were deep scars, and a large part of what drove her.

  But was there beauty on her path? Once Scarlett had thought so. What had happened to it?

  As Scarlett was washing dishes with Isabel, she told her about her business trip to Spain.

  “Why, that’s wonderful.” Isabel paused, a faraway look in her eyes. “You’ll love España, there’s magic in the air.”

  “I wish it were a vacation and you could come, too.”

  “Someday we’ll do that.” Isabel dried her hands on a dish towel. “Do you think you’ll have time to visit family?”

  “I’m not sure, though I’d like to. We’re going to Madrid.”

  Her mother scurried to her desk and picked up an old address book. She slipped on her reading glasses and ran her finger down handwritten pages. “Here they are. I’ll write down these addresses and phone numbers for you.”

  Scarlett smiled at her mother. After moving to America, Isabel had never returned to Spain, though she and Scarlett had often spoken of doing so. It was another one of the things in her life she’d put aside in her quest for success.

  She thought about her friend Verena, who had lost both her parents in a tragic car accident when she was eighteen. Her grandmother Mia had made a point of taking her and her sisters to Switzerland to share their heritage with them.

  Scarlett had always thought she would do that one day with her children and her mother. Now, as she looked at the fine lines on her mother’s face, she thought that day should be sooner rather than later.

  Isabel folded the piece of paper and gave it to her. “Please try to make time to see your family. They ask about you so often.”

  “Honestly, Mamá, I don’t know how much time I’ll have.”

  Isabel smoothed her hair. “At least call on my cousin Teresa in Cádiz. She’s very special to me.”

  Her mother often talked about Teresa. Scarlett could hardly remember any of her mother’s family, and they’d lost touch with her father’s side. Her mother told her they had scattered around the world.

  She kissed her mother on the cheek and tucked the addresses into her purse. “I’ll try,” she said. Just before she snapped her purse shut, her phone rang. She glanced at the caller information on the screen. “It’s Johnny.”

  “Answer it.” Isabel smiled and busied herself at her desk, although Scarlett knew she was listening.

  Scarlett spoke to him and then clicked off. “Mamá, I need to see Johnny before I leave.” Besides, she was anxious about going home alone after the attack in the garage. She hated feeling like that, but in truth, she’d enjoyed waking up in Johnny’s bed. They were friends, but he made her feel safe.

  Isabel said, “Go see him, nena.”

  Scarlett kissed her mother on the cheek. She loved that little term of endearment, nena, pronounced nay-nah. If she ever had a daughter, she’d call her that, too.

  Scarlett pulled under the striped porte cochère in front of the Beverly Hills Hotel. The valet took her car, and she started up the red carpeted steps that led into the hotel. The landmark hotel had been built in 1912 and had long been a glamorous mainstay of the community.

  Johnny had done well here as maître d’ of the Polo Lounge. He had made many important connections, which would serve him well in a restaurant of his own.

  She veered to the right toward the lounge. She stepped inside, thinking that the ambiance, though modern, was still like something out of a Hollywood movie. Behind the sleek wooden bar a vintage picture of polo players was suspended over bottles of coveted cognacs. Curved semi-circular booths were the perfect spots to see and be seen.

  When Scarlett arrived, Johnny was seating a film producer and his wife. She watched him, proud of the impeccably mannered man he’d become. The couple chatted with him, clearly enjoying his company.

  Tonight he wore a purple and silver polka-dot bow-tie, and Scarlett couldn’t help but smile. To her, he was the most handsome man in the room, more so than some of the famous faces dotting the restaurant. But then, she knew him too well.

  When he saw her, a grin lit his face.

  “Where is everyone tonight?” The lounge was uncharacteristically quiet.

  “It’s a weekday and we’re winding down early for the evening. I’ve been training a new guy for the door, since I won’t be here much longer. I’ll sit with you. He’s got this now.”

  Scarlett slid into the booth he indicated, and he sat beside her. Johnny had a charismatic presence, and she felt drawn to him. “You’re really serious about this new restaurant, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely. Here’s my partner now.” Lance, still in his white executive chef jacket, made his way toward them.

  “Hello, Scarlett.” Lance sat on the other side of her. “What brings you out tonight?”

  He smelled delicious, of herbs and garlic. No wonder Verena adored him. “I’m leaving for Europe tomorrow, and I wanted to see Johnny before I left.”

  Johnny took her hand. “Any word from the police on your attacker?”

  “Not a word.” His hand was warm on hers. It was a friendly, protective gesture.

  “I’d feel better if you stayed with me tonight,” Johnny said.

  Scarlett started to protest. It wasn’t as if she were afraid to stay alone, even though she’d enjoyed his bed. “I’ll be fine, Johnny.”

  “Probably. But it’s just one night. Maybe they’ll find the guy while you’re gone.”

  “Where in Europe are you going?” Lance stretched his long frame against the back of the booth.

  “Spain. The firm has a client there.” She didn’t mention the fact that she’d brought them in.

  “I love Spain. The food is spectacular.” Lance threw a glance at Johnny. “Actually, we should put tapas on the menu in our restaurant. It’s hard to find those authentic little dishes in the states.”

  Johnny glanced at Scarlett. “If they’re anything like your mother’s cooking, how fast can I leave?”

  “Wouldn’t that be fun?” She laughed at the thought. “You and my brother sure kept her busy cooking when you were kids.” Scarlett fell silent, thinking about how much fun it had been having them around. She’d never imagined those days would disappear so soon.

  Johnny squeezed her hand. “I miss him, too, Scarlett,” he said softly.

  “Why don’t you go, Johnny? You haven’t had a vacation in forever, and now you’ve got a pretty good understudy here.” Lance nodded toward the young man at the front.

  Johnny’s eyes lit with interest. “I’d love to. How long will you be there, Scarlett?”

  “About a week. But we’re going to be awfully busy working with our client.”

  “Can you stay over a few days?”

  Could she? In the past, it would have been out of the question, however, she no longer needed to prove herself to make partner. “Why not?” The thought of having a short holiday was quite appealing.

  “Good, then it’s settled,” Lance said. “I’ll give you a list of things to order. When I worked in Paris, I used to go to Spain every chance I got.”

  Scarlett laughed. “I can help him with that, too.”

  “Then it’s a deal,” Johnny said. “I’ll book a flight tomorrow. Now, come home with me, Scarlett?”

  “Sure, only this time, I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s only fair.”

  “No way. Guys like couches, haven’t you heard?” Johnny helped her up, while Lance winked at him. “No better place to fall asleep.”

  Men are so funny, Scarlett thought, though she was excited he was going to join her in Spain.

  9

  THUNDERSTORMS HAD plagued the Van Nuys airport throughout the night. This morning it was still raining, but the tower had given pilots clearance to fly. Scarlett shook out her umbre
lla.

  “Good morning, David. Scarlett.” Lucan barely acknowledged her as he stepped onto the firm’s private aircraft at the Van Nuys airport. His eyes were sunken and smudged with dark circles as if he’d been up all night.

  Scarlett wondered why.

  After Lucan boarded, Scarlett hesitated before stepping aboard. “I didn’t know he was coming with us, David.”

  “Neither did I. Not until four o’clock this morning.” David yawned. “Sleep is clearly optional at Marsh & Gold.”

  “You’re just noticing that, partner?” Scarlett grinned. As much as she thought their roles should be reversed, David was such a likeable guy she couldn’t fault him. He was an excellent colleague and had always shown her respect.

  Lucan’s presence troubled her. Scarlett eased into a white leather club chair next to David. “We should catch up on the client’s needs while we travel.” She plugged in her laptop.

  “Bring on the coffee,” David said, flipping open his briefcase.

  Lucan shrugged out of his wet raincoat and threw it over a seat. Lavender, the flight attendant, hurried to retrieve it and hang it up for him. Lucan jerked around. “I don’t want any disruptions on this flight from either one of you. No matter what, understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” David said.

  Scarlett nodded. Lucan’s dark mood reflected the morning’s dismal skies, creating an oppressive mood on board. Something seemed seriously wrong. Could it have anything to do with the High Gloss deal? Scarlett picked up an unsettling vibe emanating from Lucan.

  With a gruff word to the flight attendant, Lucan disappeared into the stateroom.

  Whatever was bothering Lucan was grave. Feeling nervous, Scarlett tapped a text to Rob. She hoped he’d had a chance to start looking at the video she’d sent. She needed confirmation. Don’t email, she added as an afterthought. She didn’t want his message going through the firm’s email system. Text or call only.

  As the plane’s engines rumbled to life, Lavender brought sparking water for Scarlett and fresh coffee for David.

  David sipped from the steaming cup. “No coffee?”

  “I’ve had my quota for the morning.” Johnny had made her coffee, taken her by her apartment to change and pack, and ferried her to the airport. “Besides, hydration is important when you fly.”

  “Did you learn that from one of your clients?”

  She sipped her cool water. “Verena Valent.”

  “I read in the Wall Street Journal that she’s in partnership with infomercial guru Wilhelmina Jones. Verena has a new skincare line coming out, right?”

  Scarlett nodded. “The new line is called Skinsense, and it’s fantastic. After that debacle with Herringbone Capital, I predict she’s going to climb right back on top.” Verena deserved it. The infomercial was in editing now, but what she’d witnessed on the film set had looked very professional and effective. The products certainly were. Scarlett had been using them for months.

  David cupped his hands around his coffee. “Good for her. They gave her such a rotten deal.”

  Scarlett squeezed lime into her water and took another sip, thinking of her friends. Among them all, she was growing closer to Johnny. He’d insisted she stay with him again last night, and slept on the couch for a second night.

  Before he’d sent her off at the airport, he’d warmed her with a giant bear hug, helped her with her bag, and held her umbrella to keep her dry. She remembered now that it was the little things he did that had always endeared him to her. When they were young, she’d taken those kindnesses for granted. She’d even called him chauvinistic. But now that she was older, she saw him in a different light. He was a kind soul, he and truly cared for her well-being.

  Scarlett glanced outside, watching rivulets of rain streaming down the cabin windows.

  She had to admit she had a way of complicating issues. Sometimes, in her quest for the truth, she examined every infinitesimal detail. With Johnny, there wasn’t an ulterior reason behind his kindness.

  She sighed, trying to quiet her mind for a few moments before she and David tackled their preparatory work.

  Johnny planned to meet her in Spain after she’d completed her work. David had quickly agreed to her request for vacation days. Lucan would not have been as amenable, but she was on David’s team now.

  Lavender stopped by their seats. “Hi, folks. It’s going to be a bumpy take-off with this weather. Be sure to buckle up.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lavender raised her brow. “Everything okay with you, Scarlett?”

  Scarlett knew what she was referring to. “Just fine, thanks, Lavender.” She gave her a warm smile. She owed a lot to this woman. If not for her, no telling what Lucan might have done.

  Soon the plane hurtled down the runway and lifted off. The turbulence rocked the aircraft as it climbed above the clouds and burst into blue skies above.

  Once the turbulence dissipated, Scarlett and David began to work, laboring through most of the twelve hour flight to Madrid. During this time, not once did Lucan emerge from the stateroom. Occasionally they heard murmurs wafting from behind the closed stateroom door, as if he were on a Skype call through the plane’s internet system.

  Yet even when Lucan was in a sour mood, he had always been sociable, making wry comments until everyone around him began laughing. It was part of his charm. Today’s behavior was highly irregular for him.

  As the pilot touched down on Spanish soil at sunrise, Lucan emerged from the stateroom. He still looked like hell. Scarlett’s senses snapped to high alert. What had Lucan so worried?

  After arriving at the hotel from the airport, Scarlett and David agreed to catch three or four hours of rest and meet at noon. Scarlett was so excited to be in Spain, she couldn’t sleep. She ordered coffee from room service and took a leisurely bath surrounded by white marble. Wrapped in a plush robe, she swung open the double doors to the small balcony of her French antique-furnished suite at the Ritz Hotel, which was situated in the central part of Madrid between Retiro Park and Teatro de la Zarzuela.

  Breathing in, she looked out over a private garden filled with calla lilies and potted topiaries. Directly across rose the majestic Museo Del Prado with its Grecian columns and vast collection of Francisco de Goya paintings. The romance language of her youth rose and fell in a mild spring breeze that lifted gauzy curtains flanked with heavy silk damask.

  España. This was the country of her birth, and yet she knew so little of it.

  Scarlett changed her heels for flat shoes and went for a walk to soak in the sights of the beautiful city she’d often heard her mother speak about. She strolled along the dining terrace, where royal blue canopies and umbrellas provided shade against the warm Spanish sun. She trailed her fingers along carved stone balustrades.

  She continued on into the city streets. The scent of garlic, saffron, and spices filled the air, making her hungry. She stopped at a sidewalk café and ordered a calamari sandwich with lemon and mayonnaise and patatas bravas, crunchy cubes of double-fried potatoes topped with spicy red sauce. As she ate, she thought of her mother. She vowed she would bring her for a visit.

  Afterward, Scarlett explored, passing rippling fountains and throngs of school children lining up for the museum. Hearing their laughter, Scarlett smiled, recalling visits to the museums with her brother and Johnny. Her mother had always been determined to bring culture into their lives, even if they barely had money for bus fare. Now she understood her mother’s frame of reference.

  Scarlett paused at a fountain. Thinking of Johnny, she flipped a Euro into the water. But what, exactly, was she wishing for?

  Before she could answer that question, church bells tolled the noon hour. She hurried back to the hotel to meet David and Lucan. A long week of work loomed ahead.

  After spending the week advising their client, a multinational company, on its intellectual property holdings, Scarlett was more than ready for her holiday. Her head was spinning with beauty trademarks and figures, and sh
e couldn’t wait for a morning sleep-in. She and David had worked late last night to wrap up all the details.

  She rolled over to check her phone and saw a text from Rob. No discernible injury, it read. A chill coursed through her. She let her head sink back into the Egyptian cotton covered pillows. It was what she’d expected. Her mind whirred.

  She wished she had an off-switch on her brain. This was the first day of her holiday, and Johnny would soon be arriving. Fleur could wait until next week. She turned off her phone ringer and stretched.

  Deciding she was officially off duty, she languished in the bath and dressed leisurely. She wiggled into svelte new jeans she’d found at Adolfo Domínguez and buttoned a casual white blouse from Zara she’d bought one day during lunch. She slipped her feet into a new pair of leopard print Manolo Blahnik heels she hadn’t been able to resist. She adored gorgeous shoes. It was one of the perks she allowed herself for working as hard as she did.

  She glanced at her phone and saw that David had tried to call. She rang him back.

  “I’m checking out,” he said. “Meet me in the lobby?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll be right down.

  When the doors slid open, David was pacing by the elevator, his hands thrust into his pockets. She stepped out. “It’s been a good week, David. I hope you and Lucan have a good trip back.”

  David’s eyes darted around. Perspiration dampened his upper lip. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about what you told me about Fleur.” He sounded nervous. “This morning I got a call—” He stopped.

  Another elevator opened and Lucan emerged. He stuffed his phone into his pocket. “Good morning. Good job on this transaction, David. Looks like this is going to be a long, profitable relationship with the client.” Lucan rested his eyes on Scarlett, but didn’t say a word.

  Lucan’s blank expression was unnerving. He’d been like that all week. It was almost as if his soul had been hollowed out of his body, and he was merely going through familiar paces.