Match Made In Paradise

by Barbara Dunlop

  “Veronica?”

  She turned back. “Is there something else?”

  “Can you sit down for a minute?”

  Veronica hesitated and then swallowed. “Of course.”

  She sat in one of the guest chairs and smoothed the slim navy skirt of her Lafayette dress. The dress was one of Mia’s favorites, with a square neckline and beige-stripe accents at the waist and shoulders. Mia had also taken note of Veronica’s simple black and burgundy pumps. People weren’t expected to dress exclusively in Lafayette wear, but Veronica was smart to show the corporate colors this week.

  Mia got straight to the point. “What are your feelings on the outcome?”

  Veronica hesitated.

  “Me as the new CEO,” Mia said, to be crystal-clear.

  Veronica’s fingers fidgeted together on her knee. “I feel fine. I mean, we don’t know each other very well, but . . . you know . . . we can . . .” She paused.

  “Get to know each other better?” Mia offered.

  Veronica bobbed a rapid nod. “I’m sure you heard . . . I mean, some people thought . . .”

  “That Henry and Hannah would take over?” Mia finished for her.

  Veronica gave a slower, uneasy nod.

  “I’m not going to ask who wanted that.”

  Veronica’s shoulders settled in what looked like relief.

  Mia reach out and slid the file toward herself. “I’m not looking for blind loyalty. But I do need to know if you can be happy here under the changed circumstances.”

  Interacting with people from Galina and WSA these past weeks, even the staff of Bear and Bar, had been an eye-opening experience for Mia. She’d learned a lot about team dynamics. “It’s important to me that you like your job and respect your team members.”

  “I do,” Veronica said. “Respect you, I mean. I’m totally looking forward to working with you, and with Dara-Leigh too.” She hesitated. “That is, if you want me to stay.”

  “I want you to stay if you’re happy staying.”

  “I’m happy.”

  “Good. That’s settled.” Mia sat back and gazed around the office. “One thing to start, I want to freshen the decor in here. You think you could come up with some ideas to lighten it up?”

  Veronica looked happily surprised. “Yes. Sure.”

  “Great. And can you get me the latest Boca and Rittenberg swatch samples? We’re already behind on our fabric order.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll need a presentation from the head designers for next year’s winter collection, sometime tomorrow. Nothing fancy, just the broad strokes. Tell them whatever they have that’s easy to put together.”

  Veronica rose. “Right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  As Veronica left the office, Mia tapped her fingers on the file folder. Inside were the contracts for the Shanghai and São Paulo shows. When she saw the signatures, she’d have her first traitor.

  There was another knock on the door, sharper this time. Someone was in a hurry.

  “Come in,” Mia called out.

  Geraldine Putts entered the room and closed the door behind herself.

  “Hello, Geraldine.”

  “Good morning.” Geraldine took a couple of careful steps forward, like Mia was a mother grizzly bear and Geraldine was prey. Her gaze dropped warily to the file folder.

  It was obvious to Mia what that meant. “I take it your signature is on these contracts?”

  “I didn’t want to.” Geraldine was clearly fearful. “They insisted. There was a study, facts and figures, data and statistics. The market is moving, and demographics are changing.”

  “But you knew I’d want to stick with Alastair’s plan.”

  Geraldine slowly nodded.

  Mia didn’t know if Geraldine was a collaborator or merely a victim of circumstance, and she hated to jump to conclusions, since she’d had enough of that coming her way lately. It was no fun and utterly unfair to be the victim of assumptions.

  She could fire Geraldine for signing the contracts, and she could fire Veronica for letting Geraldine know she’d asked for them. And then she could interrogate everyone on the senior management team and try to determine their loyalty, maybe fire them all.

  The thought of it was exhausting.

  “Are you happy here?” she asked Geraldine instead.

  “Happy?” Geraldine seemed baffled by the question.

  “In your job, working at Lafayette.”

  “Of course. Absolutely.”

  “And with me being in charge? Because I’m here, and that’s just the way it is.”

  “Yes,” Geraldine said eagerly.

  “I don’t know who to trust,” Mia said.

  Geraldine was silent for a minute. “We deserve that.”

  “But who wants to go on a witch-hunt?” Mia pushed the folder away. “I don’t. Would you?”

  The question seemed to stump Geraldine. Her answer was hesitant. “No.”

  “Good. I’m not making assumptions about anybody. Show me who you are and what you’ve got. And maybe you can do me the same courtesy.”

  “I will,” she said, looking massively relieved. “Thank you.”

  “You can spread that around the gossip mill,” Mia said.

  Geraldine didn’t seem to know how to respond.

  Mia regretted the jab. “Veronica is setting up a design meeting for Thursday.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” Geraldine’s expression changed and her tone went softer. “Thank you, Mia.”

  After Geraldine left, Mia stared at the closed door, telling herself she was doing the right thing. She could trust her instincts here. As Silas had pointed out, this was her environment, the one where she would thrive.

  She was in a supportive environment now, a place where her every whim would be respected and no one would challenge her anymore.

  A car would pick her up tonight at five. The driver would deliver her to the house, where the assistant chef would have dinner prepared—maybe a salad, some salmon or halibut and maybe a nice Cabernet Sauvignon or Chablis to go with it. She wouldn’t say no to dessert. Since that first cinnamon bun in Paradise, she’d embraced carbs and sugar, increasing her cardio to compensate.

  She could work out in the basement gym tonight. No bears down there. No mosquitos either. Then, after a steam shower, she’d sleep in her custom-built Belgardi Luxury bed with the down pillows and silk comforter. Life here in LA was the best.

  * * *

  * * *

  Silas couldn’t help but chuckle at Raven’s efforts over drinks at the Bear and Bar. He’d given her zero chance of Brodie agreeing to her latest idea, and it looked like he’d been right.

  “I’m nobody’s pilot poster boy,” Brodie said.

  “It’ll be from a distance,” Breena said. She was sitting next to Raven and across the table from Silas. It was late enough that there were only a few customers left in the restaurant.

  Silas polished off his beer and checked his watch. It was more than thirteen hours until his flight tomorrow, so he was in good shape, alcoholwise.

  “We don’t want a close-up of your face or anything,” Raven said.

  “I’m not sure how to take that.” Brodie sipped his whiskey.

  “You two are the right size and shape,” Breena said.

  “What?” Silas gave them his full attention. It was the first anyone mentioned him being included. “Who?”

  Brodie seemed amused that he wasn’t being co-opted alone.

  “Both of you,” Raven said. She held her hands in a square like she was a movie producer. “In your flight suits, the caravan as a backdrop against the mountains. Green suits, red and white plane.”

  “It’ll be perfect,” Breena said. “You’re both tall, rugged, dark hair, nice squa
re shoulders.”

  “I don’t know about you,” Silas said to Brodie, “but I’m feeling objectified.”

  “That’s because we’re objectifying you.” Breena gave a sly grin as she lifted her own frosty mug. Hers was full since she’d just joined the party.

  Silas felt an urge for a whiskey nightcap, but he was trying not to slip into that habit. It had been three nights since Mia left. Three nights where he’d struggled to fall asleep, thinking about where she was, what she was doing and who she was with. He couldn’t believe how badly he missed her.

  “You want us to succeed, don’t you?” Raven asked in a cajoling tone.

  “I couldn’t care less,” Brodie said. “I’m humoring you; rewarding you, really.”

  “For what? I’ll do it again if you’ll be in the photo.”

  “I’m rewarding Mia.”

  Silas’s chest contracted at the sound of her name, and her image bloomed even sharper in his mind. He pushed back his chair to head for the bar to get that whiskey.

  “For saving my plane,” Brodie continued. “And for saving Silas’s life.”

  “Well, that means Silas has to be in the photo,” Raven called out for Silas’s benefit.

  He didn’t turn to acknowledge her, and the three of them chuckled from the table.

  “A whiskey,” he said to Badger. “Black Boar, neat. Make it a double.”

  “You got it,” Badger said, flipping a cut-glass tumbler onto the bar then reaching for the bottle.

  “For the record,” Badger said as he poured, “I think you should do it.”

  “You overheard?” Silas asked.

  “Little bit. And Breena told me earlier about their plans. Having Mia here was a breath of fresh air.”

  Silas looked at him sharply.

  “Relax, man. Not like that. I saw the way you looked at her.”

  Silas took a swig of the whiskey. Was he that damn obvious?

  “And she looked back at you the same way,” Badger said. “But my point is, you and Brodie would make a good poster.” Badger recapped the bottle and set it on the shelf. “You’d attract the ladies, and that would be a win for everybody.”

  “I’m not wild about being a male model.” But he wondered if Mia would appreciate his effort. He wondered if it might give him an excuse to call her. Yeah, maybe he should call her to ask her advice on modeling.

  It would be way too obvious, but he wanted to do it anyway.

  “The guys will definitely bust your chops over it.”

  Silas gave a brief laugh, thinking about the teasing he and Brodie would endure.

  “But do you care?” Badger asked. “If it’s the right thing to do, do you care what the guys think?”

  “Not really.”

  “Do you think she’ll come back?”

  “Mia?” Silas toyed with his glass, stalling.

  “Yeah.”

  Silas shook his head. “Nothing for her here.”

  Badger was silent for a minute. “You sure about that?”

  Silas looked up. “You met her. You saw her. She’s not Paradise material.”

  “Maybe not.”

  There was no maybe about it.

  “Then again, the planes go both ways,” Badger said.

  Silas had thought about that more than once. He could fly himself straight to Anchorage, hop a nonstop airliner and hit LAX within about five hours. But then what? A stolen weekend with Mia? If she’d even have him. Then he’d leave her all over again and it might hurt even worse.

  “Why are you getting all bartender on me tonight?” he asked Badger.

  “Because I know an unhappy man when I see one.”

  “You’ve got it wrong.”

  Badger smiled and tapped his hand on the bar as another customer arrived at the far end. “For your sake, I hope I do.”

  “Silas?” Breena called out to him.

  He picked up his drink and turned back to the table.

  “Brodie will do it if you will,” Raven said.

  Brodie looked aghast. “That’s not what I—”

  Silas cut him off. “Sure.”

  “You will?” Breena sounded delighted.

  “Anything for the cause.” Silas polished off the drink.

  “What is wrong with you?” Brodie asked.

  “Chill, man,” Silas said. “If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”

  “Breena?” Badger called out. “Can you get these guys at the bar a quick burger before we close the kitchen?”

  “On it.” Breena grinned as she rose. “This is going to be awesome.”

  Raven dropped some money on the table. “I gotta run. Early morning tomorrow.”

  “Night.” Brodie said.

  “Later,” Silas said.

  “See you,” Raven responded to both of them as she headed for the door.

  Brodie watched until the door shut behind her. “What was that about?”

  Silas shrugged, not ready to admit he was doing it for Mia. “They’re working really hard.”

  “We don’t need to be the sacrificial lambs.”

  “Where’s your community spirit?”

  “I’m lending them housing rooms and donating an otter flight.” Brodie made a fair point.

  Silas hadn’t done much of anything to help so far. He wished he done more. In fact, he wished he done a lot of things differently. “I wasn’t straight with you about Mia.”

  Brodie’s brow went up in curiosity.

  Silas rubbed his empty glass on the smooth table. “It was special. Me and her, I mean.”

  “Seriously? Come on.”

  “I slept with her.”

  Brodie went still this time, very still and very silent.

  “Twice,” Silas said. “We kept it quiet. Obviously, we kept it quiet.”

  “Does Raven know?”

  Silas couldn’t see how that was relevant. “I don’t know. Mia wasn’t planning to tell anyone.”

  “You should have said something.”

  “I know. Thing is, it hit me like a ground loop—my own screw-up, embarrassing as hell, leaving destruction in its wake.”

  “You slept with her, Silas. You didn’t marry her.”

  Silas thought of his father again, wondering if it could be a flaw in his genes. “Yeah, that’s the thing.”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “I wanted to keep her. I seriously thought about how it could work out for us.”

  * * *

  * * *

  Mia was happy to see Raven’s name come up on her phone screen. She quickly accepted the call and sat back in Alastair’s big desk chair. “Hey, you.”

  “We need your help,” Raven said in a rush. “I’m here with Brodie.”

  Mia’s interest immediately perked up. “You are?”

  “In his room.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mia waited for details, hoping they were juicy, wondering exactly what kind of help they might need.

  “I don’t know the first thing about decorating.”

  “You’re decorating?” Well, that was disappointing.

  “Staff housing,” Raven said. “For the women. Brodie wants me to pick out colors and stuff.”

  Mia laughed at the idea of Raven as a decorator.

  Her cabin had been done in early practical. As far as Mia could tell, her cousin had randomly hung her paintings where she found existing hooks. The paintings themselves seemed equally random, gifts Raven said she’d gathered over the years. Her furniture was functional—some used, some floor models she said she bought on sale. And she’d confessed her bedroom linens had come as a set from a discount place, in a giant bag, sheets, blankets even curtains.

  Mia doubted Raven had ever chosen an item for its aesthetics.

 
“There’s no way I’m doing all of that,” Brodie’s voice came on. “It’s your project.”

  “You’ve got the speakerphone on?” Mia asked.

  “You’ve got us both here,” Raven answered.

  “What do you want to know?” Mia asked.

  “Do you want the rooms together?” Brodie asked.

  “Yes, we do.”

  “I don’t suppose we could double people up.”

  Mia frowned. “I don’t suppose we could. We’re trying to impress the women, make them like the town, not have some sort of college dorm roomie situation.”

  “You know this isn’t going to work,” he said. “Not in the long run.”

  “We’re curating the right type of women. I know both worlds, and we’ve come up with a questionnaire.”

  “It’s a whole lot easier to answer a questionnaire than survive forty below.” Brodie changed his voice to soprano, mimicking a woman. “Yes, I like skiing, pretty snowflakes and sipping hot chocolate in front of the fire on cold winter nights.”

  Mia laughed out loud. She’d never, not even once, seen Brodie make a silly joke.

  “That was terrible,” Raven said, laughing along with Mia.

  “You should be asking them if they know how to chop firewood, shovel snow, fuel a generator or stoke a fire,” he said.

  “Chop firewood? Be serious,” Raven said.

  “You chop your own firewood.”

  “You know I have an electric log splitter. Anybody can run one of those.”

  “No, not just anyone can do that,” he countered. It was pretty obvious he meant Mia.

  “Mia ran the loader,” Rave pointed out.

  It warmed Mia’s heart to have Raven immediately defend her like that.

  Brodie didn’t rebut.

  That part made Mia happy too.

  “You want the units closest to the Bear and Bar?” he asked, moving on.

  “The shorter the walk the better,” Mia said. “They might wear heels.”

  “Heels. Perfect.” Brodie said, sarcasm clear in his tone.

  “I’ve sent you pictures of Brodie’s unit,” Raven said as Mia’s phone pinged to signal their arrival.

  The room was basic—a single bed, two chairs, beige walls and a small bathroom. On the upside, there was oil heat and indoor plumbing. Mia knew the units were a cut above wall tents.