by CA Quigg
"Glad you could make it?" He held out his hand to Caden who accepted it without hesitation.
"Mr. Beaufort, good to finally meet you."
"Call me Trip."
Oblivious to the mess covering his desk, my dad motioned for Caden to take a seat before sitting down himself.
"Have you had a chance to talk to my daughter about your proposal?" My dad guffawed as if he'd said something hysterical.
"Not yet." A muscle in Caden's cheek twitched. "Let's get down to our other business first, Mr. Beaufort. I've a meeting in Manhattan this afternoon, so I'd like to get this signed as soon as possible."
He removed his laptop from his backpack, powered it up and a spreadsheet with colorful graphs, and pie charts flickered onto the screen.
"I've reviewed your quarterly accounts from the past ten years along with your projected figures. I'm afraid I can't give you what you're asking."
I stepped behind the desk and stood beside my father. "Dad, can I talk to you?"
"Not now. I have things to discuss with Mr. Gallagher." He dismissed me with a wave and smirked. "Thinks she knows how to run things around here. Run us into the ground more like."
"Dad," I insisted. Nuclear level humiliation heated my face and chest. "We need to talk."
Caden glared at my dad from beneath a thick layer of lashes, his contempt tangible. "I take it you haven't discussed any of the suggested plans with your daughter?"
"Plans? I'm not aware of any plans." To stop myself wrapping my hands around my dad's neck and throttling him, I crossed my arms and gripped my biceps hard enough to leave bruises. "Dad, I really need to talk to you. Alone."
"Not now," he said with another wave of his hand. "Make yourself useful and go get us a drink."
"I don't need anything." Caden cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "Lizzie, please sit. You should hear what I have to say."
"It's Elizabeth, and I'd rather stand. Can someone tell me what the hell's going on?"
Caden steepled his fingertips beneath his shadowed jaw and tapped them against his lips. "If you don't find an investor within the next two weeks, the country club will go into foreclosure. The vultures are already circling. I'm proposing an eighty/twenty split with your father being a silent partner." He slid a large manila envelope my way. "I think you'll find the terms agreeable."
I fell silent for half a second and glared at my dad. "What's he talking about?"
My dad stuck out his chin, and radioactive rage flushed his nose and cheeks. The volcano was about to explode, and I stepped back to avoid the falling debris.
"That's not what we discussed," my dad said, looking affronted. He slammed a closed fist on his desk, and a deluge of aged yellow paper slid to the floor. "Sixty/forty in my favor is what we agreed. A gentleman's word is his bond."
"I never claimed to be a gentleman," Caden said. "Your bank accounts are drained, and you have loan sharks charging exorbitant interest rates for loans you can't pay back. You should know better than to go to predatory lenders for money." Caden tapped his keyboard. "Your business is diseased and you, Mr. Beaufort, are the virus."
Sweat beaded across my dad's brow and he began shuffling papers, moving them from one pile to the other then back again. "Who do you think you are coming in here and breaking promises? I've been in business longer than you've been alive." He stilled, and a wolfish grin curved his lips. "You need me as much as I need you, don't forget that."
"On the contrary, I think you'll find you need me more."
My opinion of Caden Gallagher plummeted by the second. I'd heard enough to decide I didn't want someone like him as the majority shareholder in the club even if it would pull us out of the hole we were fast tumbling down.
"The club isn't for sale," I informed him. "We'll figure something else out. I'm sorry we've wasted your time, Mr. Gallagher."
"And I'm sorry you see it that way, Ms. Beaufort." The low tone in his words bordered on irritation. Good. I hoped he was irritated because I certainly was.
My dad smacked his hands against his desk causing me to step backward.
"Elizabeth Anne Beaufort, do not interfere. I'll sell Sundown Sands to whomever I want whenever I want. This has nothing to do with you."
A wave of sound whooshed through my ears. "This has everything to do with me."
I turned away to hide the emotions creasing my face, and when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace, I flinched. The pale, glassy-eyed woman staring back looked like a corpse, and thanks to the curtain attempting to suffocate me, my usually smooth hair sprang up in fuzzy tufts and dust smudges decorated my cheeks giving my cheekbones a sunken appearance.
At least my Halloween costume was all figured out. Frazzled office worker was bound to win me first prize at O'Halloran's fall fest in a few weeks.
I might not look or feel like a woman in control, but I would act it. Plunging into a full-blown anxiety attack wasn't an option; neither was breaking down in front of the arrogant and obnoxious but totally gorgeous Irish asshole.
"I've worked seven days a week, fifteen or more hours a day since high school. I didn't go to college. I have zero social life. My marriage ended." I pinched the bridge of my nose and paused. "Everything, since I was eight-years-old, has been about you and this club."
"Where's my violin?" my dad asked, disdain dripping from his words. "Just like your mother. Hysterical." He drew himself up and pushed his chair away from the desk. "I need a drink." Before leaving the office, he threw me a withering glare. "Mr. Gallagher has something to ask you, and for all our sakes, I hope you give him the right answer." He marched out of the office without a backward glance.
"Are you okay, Elizabeth?" Caden asked, standing. "Perhaps today isn't the best day to discuss your options. Maybe we can have dinner some evening this week?" A confident grin creased his face and crinkled the corners of his eyes. "We should get to know each other a wee bit better, don't you think?"
"No, I don't think, and don't insult either of us by flirting, Mr. Gallagher." I rolled back my shoulders and stood tall. "Save your shtick."
"Call me Caden." A determined expression replaced his previous affable charm.
"Why the hell are you here, Caden ? What's in it for you? Why do you want to save the club?"
"I didn't say I wanted to save the club. I said I wanted to buy it. You're sitting on an undeveloped gold mine. The potential to develop this place is astronomical."
Despite pretending not to care why he wanted the club, I couldn't help but ask, "What exactly do you have in mind?"
"Back in the day, this place was where it was at, wasn't it?" He came closer, and I noticed flecks of gold and green encircling his irises. If he wasn't an obnoxious and arrogant asshole, I could easily fall for someone like him.
"Celebrities, politicians, and if my research is correct, a few members of royalty stayed here. Wouldn't you like it to have that kind of prestige again? Restore it to its former glory?"
With each sentence, his words got faster, and the excitement in his voice became infectious.
"The land is worth millions," he continued, "and could earn millions more. Other developers see condos and high rises. I see a resort that protects and works with the environment. The other hotels in town only open from March through November. I want this place open year round."
I cleared my throat, smoothed my hands over my hair and sat on my dad's vacated chair. To hide my shaking hands, I clasped my fingers together. And, instead of replying to his vision for the club, I nodded. I could see exactly what he saw, but if I said a word, he would hear how much I desperately wanted what he offered.
If we agreed to his offer, I could pay off my dad's debts, put some money in the bank and still own a piece of the club. How could this stranger's vision match mine so perfectly? Maybe selling some of the club to him wasn't such a bad
idea.
"What's the catch?" I asked. "There has to be a catch. Someone like you doesn't just ride in like a knight in shining armor without wanting something big in return."
"Come walk along the beach with me. Get some fresh air. Discuss a few things." He peeled off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves.
My eyes fell to his hands and wrists, and the soft hair swirling up his forearms. A man with hands and arms like his would know what to do with a woman's body. My body. His fingertips and palms were probably calloused from construction, and the way he carried himself told me he was the kind of man who liked to be in control of every situation.
"Elizabeth?"
I closed my gaping mouth before trails of drool dripped down my chin. "Sorry. Did you say something?"
"A walk on the beach?"
"The beach sounds nice. As soon as I make sure my father isn't passed out in the foyer, I'll meet you by the fallen tree."
"Fallen tree?"
"You can't miss it. A three-hundred-year-old oak fell during last year's storms. We haven't had the chance to move it yet." Or the money.
****
Besides Caden, our stretch of golden sand was deserted. He stood at the edge of the ocean a few feet from the fallen tree. I leaned my hip against the trunk near the ripped roots and watched him.
He'd rolled up his jeans, held his shoes in his hand and skimmed his toes through the lapping water. For an instant, I imagined standing beside him, laughing as we splashed and teased each other. Then we'd fall into the foaming surf and rip each other's clothes off. If only. The daydreams involving him had to stop because the fairytales I concocted never ended in happily ever after. They always ended up hurting my heart. My marriage was made on daydreams and fantasies and look how that ended.
When I married Eric, I imagined we would have an I-can't-keep-my-hands-off-of-you kind of relationship. The jerk refused to sleep with me before the wedding, saying he wanted to wait until our wedding night. He didn't sleep with me on our wedding night or any night after that either.
Turned out, he thought I was worth millions and thought by marrying me he could live his life on Easy Street. As soon as he discovered my bank account held nothing but cobwebs and dust, he left. I cried my body dry and pushed myself to the brink of exhaustion. For months, no one could mention his name without me turning into a she-bitch from hell.
My dad ignored my pain. My stepsisters attempted to heal me with wine and blind dates. My mom tried to console me with food and kind words, but I didn't want her help. We didn't have that kind of relationship, and for the first time since I was a kid, I envied the relationship the O'Halloran girls had with my mom.
Closing my eyes, I raised my head to the sun and soaked up the early fall heat. The rays energized me and strengthened my resolve. I could do this. I could negotiate the sale of Sundown Sands and together Caden and I would realize our visions. Turning the club into the place it was supposed to be was all I wanted.
When I opened my eyes, he stood a few feet from me with his head tilted to one side.
"I thought a beach bar would work well here. Some water sports. Maybe beach activities."
"What about an infinity pool and a spa? I've always wanted to, well…never mind." For a moment, I'd let my façade slip. The excitement fizzling inside of me rammed at my nerve endings seeking a way out, but I couldn't let this stranger see how much I wanted what he proposed.
He gave his head a considering nod and then shoved his hands deep inside his pockets. "Don't stop. I'd like to hear your ideas. You know this place better than anyone."
"Another time maybe." I strode toward the edge of the Atlantic and dug my toes into the water-logged sand. The gentle breeze wrapped Caden's spicy cologne around me until all I could smell was him.
Heat radiated from his nearness and warmed my skin more than the sun ever could.
"I'll have our lawyer look at your offer," I said.
Maybe, when we'd paid off our debts, my anxiety attacks would lessen. Maybe I could go to school. Maybe I could have a life.
"When do you think you'll begin? I know you'll have to draw up the plans and get all the permits, but do you think we could re-open by next summer?" The longing inside of me took control and all attempts at hiding my excitement vanished. "I can't wait until people come through the doors again. Until we can hold proper events like weddings and proms and fundraising galas."
"Actually, before we think about all of that, there's something I have to ask you."
"Sorry, I'm babbling. It's just, well, you have no idea how much of a relief this is. I mean, I knew we were in trouble, but I didn't know how much until I rummaged through my dad's office. We're in a cesspool of shit."
He strode ankle deep into the icy water and faced me. I smiled up at him, and once again imagined he was mine. If I flung my arms around his neck and threw myself at him, would he kiss me or would he be repulsed?
For a brief second, he glanced at the water before looking at me.
"Marry me, Lizzie."
Chapter 3
Caden
I hadn't expected the pretty brunette to run into my arms, declare her undying love and cry "yes," but I certainly hadn't expected her to act as if I'd asked her to bludgeon someone to death, or act as if the contents of her breakfast were about to shoot from her mouth Exorcist style.
"Did you… just ask…me…to marry you?"
Elizabeth 's cheeks blazed, and she slumped onto the packed sand by the edge of the surf, not seeming to mind the frigid tide sloshing around her ankles and beneath her skirt. Disbelief and astonishment with a dash of anger washed away the previous excitement from her face. Fuck her father for not having discussed this with her before I arrived. She should have known about the proposed agreement.
"Did I just fall into the twilight zone?" She pinched the back of her hand hard enough to leave a welt then hugged her thighs to her chest.
I hunkered down beside her. "Afraid not."
"Is this what you do?" she asked making no effort to look at me. "Get people's hopes up and then when you have them, add the sell-your-soul clause?"
"Not quite. Usually, when I add the sell-your-soul clause, I also request the blood of three young virgins." She didn't laugh or react. Odd. I'd charmed more women with my banter than I'd had hot dinners. Maybe I was losing my knack. "See it as a business deal. One, I think, would be advantageous for both of us."
The past twelve months had been spent keeping investors happy by flying around the world from one resort to another. In that time, I hadn't opened any letters from the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services or listened to my assistant's warnings about sorting out my permanent residency. Now, I wished I'd taken some time to do just that because the bloody feckers refused to renew my visa.
Almost nine years of tough grind were about to go down the crapper. No way was I going back to Ireland. No fucking way. I visited when I had to, but over the years I could count on one hand how often I'd been back. And even then, it was only for a few days. I didn't hate my country of birth, but it held some memories I'd rather not relive and people I'd rather not see.
After searching for legal loopholes with my lawyer, it seemed the only way to solve my problem was to marry.
Last week, when I talked to Beaufort again about investing in the club, I mentioned we would have to rethink our partnership until I figured out my immigration status. He suggested I ask Elizabeth to tie the knot. The aul fella was supposed to sweeten her to the idea beforehand. I should have known the whiskey soaked shite wouldn't keep his word. I didn't agree with her father about much, anything really, but marrying Elizabeth Beaufort would be a godsend.