And now that he had gotten Priscilla to agree to start seeing him, he knew that at some point over the weekend he would have to sit Amber down and break the news to her...gently. The apartment was in both their names, but as luck would have it, there was only a few months left on the lease.
When Douglas Bauer had interrupted Michael and Priscilla earlier, he had said he'd needed to have a word with his sister privately, and without being outright rude, hinted that Michael needed to get lost. So after they all walked back to the house together, Michael had graciously made his exit, promising Priscilla he'd be in touch as she'd walked him out, Douglas waiting impatiently for her in the wings.
And Michael had driven away full of questions. He wished she had asked him to stay, to wait for her. But he was also keenly aware of who Priscilla Bauer was, and of the fact that he himself had a devoted girlfriend waiting for him at home.
Trouble was, a big part of Michael didn't want to go home—the part that was yearning for fulfillment. It urged him to run back to Priscilla and tell her everything. To confess all to Amber and ensure they parted friends.
Friends? he thought. Please! You know she's gonna be absolutely devastated.
And although she had her issues and could be a bit overbearing at times, he had always gotten along well enough with Amber's mom. He knew Julie Holland would be very disappointed about a break up after he'd been with her daughter for so many years and a wedding date should've been imminent.
But what else can I do?
He had been on the road for about an hour when his phone rang. He was surprised to see who it was. "Hi," he answered, feeling encouraged. "This is a very nice surprise—I wasn't expecting to hear from you so you just made my evening."
Priscilla chuckled. "Well, I'm glad." She sounded a bit tired. "I just wanted to call and apologize if my brother's abruptness offended you earlier. I told him he could've been a little nicer."
"Hey, no apology's necessary. I know it's a tough time for your family."
"Oh, you're so sweet," she said. "Hey, Michael, are you still driving? Where exactly do you live anyway? I just realized I have no clue." She laughed. "You know, we really should get to know each other just a little bit better."
Michael's voice lowered intimately. "Well, I'd say we've gotten to know each other pretty well already—but I won't argue the point." He chuckled. "I live in Delray Beach. You familiar with South Florida?"
"Absolutely," she replied. "I've been down there quite a bit, I have some good friends in the Boca Delray area."
"Oh, okay," said Michael, instinctively deciding to change the subject. "So I don't want to overstep or anything...but is everything okay with Douglas? He seemed pretty...intense."
"Yeah, yeah. He's fine," she said. "We just have a lot to deal with right now. It's a pretty major adjustment. We're going to our lawyer's office tomorrow morning for the reading of my grandmother's will, so there's that. Plus my mother's been acting up, causing problems for us at the hotel. She's basically trying to take over." She sighed. "And it's just, like, the last thing we need going on over there right now, you know?"
"Did your grandmother not want her to run things?" Michael asked. "Is it possible she left her in charge?"
"Well, you see, she only manages the clothing store on the ground floor. And she only got that job after my brother begged Gran to hire her, just to shut her up."
"Oh. So, is your mother not a Bauer then?"
"No, Bauer's my father's name, it's his family; and they were never married. He died of some weird liver disease when I was four."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that." He paused. "Boy, Veronica Bauer's as famous as it gets but I'm guessing that's a little known fact."
"It sort of is. Mostly because she left the spotlight such a long time ago and rarely ever gave interviews."
There was a pause on the line as Michael changed lanes, processing. He was now dating the granddaughter of Veronica Bauer. The Veronica Bauer. It was a serious head-trip when he thought about it. It meant a whole new world was opening up to him.
"You know, I wish I didn't have to leave you tonight."
"I know."
"When will you have me back?"
"How about Friday?" she said. "All the dust should've settled by then."
Michael closed his eyes. He'd be on his way to Tucson with Amber. "Ahh, Priscilla, I'm so sorry...We have a business trip planned to Arizona this weekend and I won't be back until Monday morning. Can I see you before I go?"
"Well, you've already made the trek up here a couple times this week. Why don't you just call me when you get home on Monday? I can't promise Doug won't be around, but if you're not too tired, I'd love to see you then."
Disappointed, he decided not to press the issue. "I won't be too tired," he said quietly. "I'm already missing you like crazy."
"Me too," she told him. "Just have a safe trip, okay? I'll see you when you get back."
• CHAPTER EIGHT •
The following day, Priscilla and Douglas left the law offices of Jordan, Dyer & Brighton with the full weight of their grandparents' legacy having been placed firmly on both their shoulders.
Their grandmother had left them each a fifty percent share of Bauer Enterprises and all its assets, with Douglas stepping into her role as CEO. She expressed a wish for him to mentor Priscilla so she could work alongside him as the company's President in the not too distant future.
Emerald Leas and an apartment in Paris were left to Priscilla, while Douglas inherited the country house in Normandy and the apartment in London. Their grandmother had also owned a villa in Greece, but she'd left that to someone else...
While they both knew their grandparents had done well for themselves, first in Hollywood and then in the hotel business, Priscilla and Doug had both been shocked to learn of the millions of dollars in cash their grandmother had had at the ready—and its three-way bequeathment was the hot topic of conversation on their ride home.
"So why don't we go and meet her together?" Douglas suggested as he turned Priscilla's Porsche Panamera onto the causeway.
She looked over at him thoughtfully. "I don't know, Doug. I mean, of course, I want to meet her eventually, but I don't think I'm ready to leave home for anywhere right now."
Douglas shook his head, snorting in amazement. "I'm still trying to get my mind around this! Who do you think her father was, anyway? Do you think she even knows? I think it's possible it had something to do with the real reason Gran quit the movie business and went off to Europe the way she did." He paused, serious again. "Jesus. She must've been like sixteen years old when she gave that baby up...Do you think the father was someone famous?"
"That's doubtful," said Priscilla. "Remember she started in the business at eighteen because of Granddad, they had just gotten married." She shook her head. "Wow...what a scandal it would've been if it had been a co-star. Like Loretta Young and Clark Gable." She thoughtfully toyed with the button on her jacket. "I can't believe she's kept that secret all these years. And now that she's gone, those awful gossip rags are dredging it all up. Let's pray it doesn't gain any more traction."
"Wishful thinking, Cilla. Her will is public record once it's probated. So just brace yourself and lay low."
"Great," she sighed, adjusting her shades.
"I need to check in with Jerry at the hotel," Doug said a few minutes later. "Right now we're revamping the websites and updating Gran's bio in the company profile. It shouldn't take too long, but I can take you home first if you like..."
"No, it's okay. I think I'll sneak into Blossoms and say hello to Natalie."
Douglas drove into the heart of downtown Mayfair, where the world-famous Raindrops on Roses Hotel & Resort stood proudly as one of the island's main attractions. Their accommodations had become so popular over the years, bookings were made nine to twelve months in advance year round.
As the second in the Favorite Things hotel chain, the Mayfair location had opened in the late 1970s and had qui
ckly become even more profitable than the first. Today it remained at the top of the ledgers, the most popular of all three hotels.
When they arrived, Doug headed for the elevator bank and Priscilla used a back door to discreetly enter Dew Blossoms, the hotel's floral shop. Natalie Soto was in the office, busy working at her desk. She looked up and smiled as Priscilla walked in.
"Hi, honey," she sang, jumping up to give Priscilla a warm hug. "It's so good to see you here...this beautiful face."
"Oh, you too," Priscilla said into her shoulder. "And thank you so much for this. I needed a good hug."
"Things will never be the same around here without our Veronica. She's gone much too soon. Way too soon."
"I know," said Priscilla, taking a seat. "But life goes on, doesn't it? And we get to go with it. Yippee," she added cheerlessly. "Doug stopped in to see Jerry so I thought I'd hide out with you until they finish."
"Not a problem, chica. I'm glad you came in, because I have something to tell you..." She lowered her voice. "Charlotte is making everyone very, very uncomfortable. There's talk. They say she thinks she will take over as manager of the hotel now that your grandmother is gone, and she has a list of people she wants to get rid of! A list of people she wants to replace."
"Yes, we've heard all about it so don't worry—Charlotte's being handled. Just ignore it, Natalie, and please help dispel those rumors whenever you can. There are no plans to change management at Raindrops at all. From what I know, Jerry's always done a great job and Gran would never, ever have replaced him. I'm pretty sure Doug plans to address it formally with the staff soon."
"Well, that's a relief," Natalie said, falling back into her chair. "Because I personally don't think Charlotte ever really liked me. I don't know what I ever did to her, but she doesn't like me."
"Well, at the end of the day she's my mother, but I don't think she really likes anyone but herself—the one person she can truly be expected to look out for."
They chatted for a good while before Natalie decided to go over to the hotel's restaurant and pick up lunch.
Priscilla was finishing up the last of her fish and chips when Doug poked his head through the doorway. "We're all done, Cilla," he said. "You ready to go?"
"Yep. Excellent timing."
•~•
When they got back to the house, the guard on duty advised them that their mother had been turned away about fifteen minutes ago.
"What the hell does she want now?" Doug said as he drove through the gate. "You know it must be some kind of nuisance issue when she doesn't even call one of us first. Thank God she didn't know we were at the hotel, or you can bet she'd have tried to cause a scene."
"You should never have pushed Gran to hire her, Doug. Mom's a big girl and she could've gotten a job anywhere. Anywhere. But now we'll never be rid of her. She'll always be a pain in the ass." Pulling out her cell phone, Priscilla said, "Let's see what she wants." But then she hesitated. "Wait a minute..." She looked closely at Doug. "Did you tell her we were going to see the lawyers today?"
Douglas ducked his head slightly, ready for reproach. "I may have mentioned it, off hand. Not deliberately, but I think it slipped out."
"Douglas! Seriously?" Priscilla scoffed. "Well, at least now we know what she wants!"
"I'm sorry," he said as they pulled into the garage on the north side of the house. "But look, you know me. I'm a pretty open book. I'm just not as good at keeping secrets and remembering who not to tell what. It's just too much to keep up with."
Rolling her eyes, Priscilla got out of the car. She could feel the imminent stress and annoyance that came with dealing with her mother, but she wanted to get it over with so she went ahead and called her cell phone.
"Hi, Cilla," answered Charlotte McDermott promptly. "How are things? You guys okay? I'm so glad Doug's here spending this time with you."
"We're both doing fine, Mom. The guard said you came by...?"
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you and Doug. I don't feel too good about how we left things the other night."
"Okay...and?"
There was a marked silence before Priscilla heard sniffles.
Here we go again, she thought.
"Listen," she began, "you both need to remember that I'm your mother. Your mother! And that counts for a lot. I don't like how you spoke to me and I don't like how either of you have taken to treating me, Cilla. I deserve more respect. If from no one else, I should get it from you and Douglas."
Priscilla felt herself starting to wilt under her mother's whining; the very sound of Charlotte's voice did ugly things to her insides.
Gran, where are you? she thought.
The loss was raw and fresh again in that moment as she experienced the full weight of what it meant not to have her grandmother anymore. She had always shielded Priscilla from these tactics, intimidating Charlotte enough to keep her in check. But now Priscilla would have to learn to protect herself, to enforce her own boundaries.
And I will, she thought wearily. But, please, God, not today. So without saying another word, she handed Douglas the phone and mouthed: She's crying, and rolled her eyes. Then she turned and jogged up the stairs to grab her sketchpad.
There were several other things she needed to be doing, like e-mailing her accountant and enrolling in a few financial management seminars. But first, she really needed some time to de-stress and re-center her mind.
Earlier, she'd gotten the most beautiful gift from Michael, a sterling silver chain-link bracelet that had arrived by messenger from Gucci. It was gorgeous and she absolutely loved it! Whenever it caught her eye she knew she would be thinking of him.
She fingered it now with a smile as she walked down to the beach to spend some time out on the pier with her muse.
• CHAPTER NINE •
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking—Captain Finley. We've just begun our descent into Palm Beach International. Local weather is a balmy seventy-eight degrees; local time, 8:51 a.m. We should be arriving at the gate in about twenty-two minutes. Flight attendants prepare for arrival."
As the captain hung up the intercom, Michael jerked awake. Guess I dozed off, he thought, looking around and stretching with a discreet yawn. He looked over to find Amber playing a game on her phone. Eyeing her profile, he had to admit that the new hairstyle really suited her. He liked it.
The weekend had gone a lot better than he had thought it would, with Amber obsessively taking enough pictures to fill a yearbook. Though he'd planned to have "the talk" with her, he had quickly realized that it wasn't the right time. After all, was he supposed to break up with her before, during, or after one of their romantic couples' massages? The occasion just hadn't been...appropriate. So on Friday night, Michael had simply shut himself off in the bathroom, breathed deeply and gave himself a reality check. It was all about having the right perspective on things.
He knew it was over, and he knew he would be ending it. But he had to get through the next three days without being virtually paralyzed by guilt and dread.
You don't have to lead her on, he'd told himself. You don't have to be cold or unfeeling. You can be as kind and as plugged in as anyone who genuinely cares about Amber's well being. And Michael did care about Amber.
So they'd had their massages, they'd swam, enjoyed the saunas, gone horseback riding, walked the trails, done some yoga, and had lots of sex in their bungalow. Amber had spared no expense with new and exciting toys and lingerie designed to turn him on and keep him that way. And Michael was a man after all, so he was turned on.
But what the toys and sexy lingerie didn't—and couldn't do—was make him stop thinking about Priscilla Bauer.
She had been there with them the whole time, just on the fringes of his heart and mind. Which probably did as much damage as if he'd told Amber the truth right in the middle of her giving him the most heartfelt head he'd ever had! Because he knew she wasn't fooled. She'd been working overtime to bridge the gap.
So mask
ing his bomb as best he could, he let it continue eating away at him in order to give her the best weekend possible, despite the way he felt inside.
A flight attendant came over the intercom with instructions to prepare for landing. It jarred Michael from his thoughts.
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt. That's what really held him back. And the fact that once the words were out, there was no getting them back in—he would be changing Amber's life forever.
"You okay?" she asked now, looking at him with a smile.
"Yeah," said Michael. He tried to return the smile but it didn't quite happen. She'd been asking him if he was okay all weekend and he knew it was only because she sensed that he wasn't.
Raindrops on Roses: Book One of the Favorite Things Trilogy Page 5