by Joanne Rock
“My party is tonight too,” April announced, unwilling to part with her chance to have a special dress on this last evening with Weston.
It would be difficult enough to say goodbye. She at least needed one more memory. One last opportunity to be in his arms. And damn it, she wanted his last vision of her to be one where she looked her best.
Lorelle and the delivery van driver began to bicker again, but the other hotel guest turned wide brown eyes on April.
“Gage Striker’s dinner party?” she inquired, arching an eyebrow.
Her face was perfectly heart-shaped, right down to the widow’s peak at the center of her forehead. Truly, the woman was so pretty April found it hard to focus on her words. When she dialed in what she’d asked, however, April recalled what Weston said about this evening’s get together. Low-key. With a few “environmentally minded celebrities.”
The stunner beside her must be someone famous. Faces like hers belonged on TV or the big screen.
“Yes.” April smiled warmly, hoping against hope to reason with a fellow partygoer. “Maybe we could share the time slot? Assuming they have both of our sizes on that rolling rack?”
The other woman nodded briskly and turned to the driver.
“Excuse us. Tory? Lorelle?” She gently touched the sleeve of Lorelle’s suit jacket. “Ms. Stephens and I have agreed to share the appointment. Tory, do you have samples in both of our sizes in there?”
Lorelle frowned while Tory whooped a delighted “Yes ma’am,” and began unloading the rolling rack.
“I’m Elena, by the way,” the mystery celebrity said to April as the two of them stepped back to make room on the sidewalk. A bellhop from the main lodge jogged out to help the delivery driver with the clothes. “Could we possibly use your room for a fitting? Mine is a hot mess.”
“I’ll unlock a suite,” Lorelle offered, clearly overhearing them as she stalked toward the huge double doors. “Tory only has an hour.” She glared darkly at the driver, who was flirting with the bellhop over the clothes rack. “So follow me, and thank you for being so amenable.”
More than satisfied with this solution, April joined the unlikely group as they headed into an elevator cabin. Her phone vibrated in the silence as they were whisked up to the third floor.
She pulled the cell from her jacket pocket just enough to see the caller ID: Mom. Swiping the button to send the call to voice mail, she hoped whatever her mother’s latest crisis was, it could wait until tomorrow night, when April would be back home.
For now, she wanted to concentrate on savoring every moment of her last night with Weston. Too bad her heart was already aching at the thought of leaving him.
* * *
Maybe Elena’s luck was finally turning.
She was riding in an elevator with an actual invitee to Gage Striker’s event tonight. The opportunity to learn what she could from April Stephens was too juicy to pass up. Not to mention, spending this time with a legitimate party guest would help give her the details she needed to talk her way in the front door tonight.
Elena was at Mesa Falls Ranch to track the Alonzo Salazar story and sell it to the tabloids, all the while knowing that her long-ago ex-lover was somehow involved since he was one of the reclusive owners of the property.
So far in her discreet inquiries to the staff and outright prying online, she’d learned very little, other than the news that Gage Striker was having a dinner party at his house tonight. All of the ranch owners were expected to be in attendance. She’d immediately started plotting to crash it. To make a devastating, eat-your-heart-out sort of entrance.
And, of course, to film it for her social media channels.
Now she had more than just a vague idea. April Stephens gave her the key to executing the plan.
Elena calculated her approach while Lorelle bustled around the suite, directing Tory’s setup of the clothes, pointing out the full-length mirrors and steering Elena and April toward separate bedrooms off the main living area. The guest services coordinator really was doing her best to rectify the appointment snafu, even though the mistake was a godsend for Elena. No doubt they’d get a discount on the clothes she couldn’t afford in the first place. And Elena had the chance to discreetly interview April Stephens.
She’d find out whatever she could about why the ranch owners were all flying in to convene on-site. Could it be they were worried about the publicity from the Alonzo Salazar scandal? Publicity she would stir relentlessly after tonight.
It was a lucky day, indeed.
* * *
Weston checked his watch as another one of his partners arrived—late—for the afternoon meeting he’d called before tonight’s dinner party.
Striding into Weston’s media room wearing a crumpled tuxedo that looked like it must have been from a black-tie event the night before, Gage Striker was missing his tie, his French cuffs flapping loose around his wrists. A big, burly New Zealander, Gage had come to the United States to attend Dowdon and never left. Now, he was an angel investor for too many companies to name, and the most unangelic of the group in every other way.
He dropped into one of the leather chairs arranged in two rows before a large screen. Paneled with soundproof tiles and cherry wainscoting, the space was dimly lit. The front row of chairs could be spun around to face the back row, making it easy to talk in here. Weston had ordered food for the meeting, leaving the drinks and sandwiches on the table along one wall in case someone hadn’t eaten.
“Finally tore yourself away from your party to join us?” Weston’s brother, Miles, asked from the chair beside him.
Miles, of course, had been on time for the meeting. He and Desmond Pierce had shared a flight from the West Coast.
Gage muttered a string of ripe curses before explaining, “I flew home for a family wedding, and I thought I’d better stay as late as I could since I hadn’t set foot on Striker land in almost three years. But you know how those flights are. Long, hellish fugues that make you forget what day it is. I slept right through landing.”
The ranch had a small landing strip near the river, making it convenient to fly private aircraft almost to their doorstep.
“We might as well get started.” Weston sped things along, anxious to tie up business so he could focus on the evening with April. He had flowers scheduled to be delivered to her at intervals all afternoon, but that was just a warm-up for later. He’d put a lot of time and thought into convincing her not to end things for good. “Jonah is stuck in weather and can’t be here until the party. Alec had a family emergency.”
Jonah Norlander and Alec Jacobsen were the only owners missing from the meeting. Tech company CEO Jonah had a new baby, so his absence wasn’t totally unexpected. And game developer Alec’s family had always been the most dysfunctional of the group, which was saying something considering the home lives they all came from. Weston wondered if he should have shared more about the Riveras with April, since she seemed to have her hands full with her mother. Hearing about his own issues might have provided some sort of consolation for the stress of being around her mother. But it had been tough enough sharing what he had about Zach when they were in Kalispell. Dumping the family drama on her then had been the very last way he’d wanted to spend their brief time together.
He hadn’t realized then that it might be his only window of opportunity.
“How are things with the financial forensics investigator?” Gage asked, blinking his eyes open wider as he straightened in his seat. “How’s her case progressing?”
“I won’t know until I see her tonight.” He’d been shut out while she followed up leads, keeping to herself ever since she’d appeared in his home gym a few nights ago. “But the last time we spoke, she was concerned I’d had one of the staff members fired. Nicole Smith.”
He watched his friends’ faces to see if any of them showed a trace of recognition. Guilt. But
it was impossible to study all three men at once. Gage’s expression never shifted, however.
“Why?” Miles asked from Weston’s right side, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Why would she think that?”
Weston had kept the news to himself this long. Without more evidence that Alonzo was supporting a child with the profits from his book, he wasn’t going to point fingers. He’d asked Nicole’s supervisor about the termination just the day before, and the woman insisted that it had been a performance-based decision. So maybe April had only imagined there was an underhanded agenda to thwart her case.
“The woman told April she had a tip about the case, but before she could share it, she was fired.” Weston shrugged. “Bottom line is that April Stephens keeps her cards close to her vest.” She was a professional, and she was good at her job, both qualities he admired about her. “I don’t think she’s going to leak information publicly, but I know whatever she learns will go straight to Devon Salazar.”
“Who we don’t trust.” Gage leaned back in his chair, threading his hands behind his head as he stretched out. “Neither of Alonzo’s sons showed up for him when he needed them.”
Alonzo had undergone chemo alone, retreating to the ranch to recover afterward. Neither of his sons had joined him, even though he’d invited them more than once.
“And yet, for all that Alonzo did for us, you have to admit he wasn’t much of a father to his own sons.” Weston had come to see April’s point of view on that, recognizing that Alonzo’s secret life had made him seem untrustworthy. “He told us as much.”
“So what are you suggesting?” Miles asked, spearing a hand through his dark blond hair. “That we just hope Devon Salazar keeps Alonzo’s secrets?”
The four men in the room remained silent, and Weston guessed they were each contemplating the things that Alonzo had known about each one of them. Their mentor had been the only adult in their lives who’d known what they’d been through. Collectively, with Zach. And, afterward, privately.
The thought of the child Alonzo had allegedly been supporting chirped in Weston’s mind again, but he shut it down. He still hadn’t seen any proof of the arrangement.
“I’m more worried about the tabloids than Devon,” Weston admitted finally. “Elena Rollins checked into the lodge three nights ago, but she hasn’t been a visible presence around the property that I can see so far.”
“Who?” Desmond asked as he stood from his chair to help himself to the food at the table in the back. He grabbed a plate and started piling meats on a half baguette. “Did I miss something?”
“She’s the tabloid reporter,” Gage informed him drily, following Desmond long enough to scoop an imported longneck from the bucket. “She also happens to be an ex-girlfriend that my father paid off to ensure nothing tainted my career back when he thought I was going into the family business.”
Gage’s father was a highly placed politician from a prominent family. He’d paid a fortune for Gage to attend Dowdon and live Stateside with a chaperone year-round, preferring his son’s wild-boy antics take place far from their native soil.
Everyone cursed when they heard that the tabloid reporter and Gage had history. “How much does she hate you?” Miles asked after he was done swearing.
Gage grabbed two extra beers and shot him a dark look as he handed drinks to both Weston and Miles.
“That seems like a question that doesn’t require an answer.”
Nerves knotted in Weston’s gut. Not because he had so much to hide himself—he’d been honest with April about the worst of his own past. But for his friends. His partners.
Men he’d move heaven and earth for after what they’d gone through.
Twisting off the cap on his beer, he flipped it into the drink holder built into the arm of the huge home theater chair. What would Zach think of his old crew if he could see them now? Back in school they’d had big dreams of going into business together. Now, it was tough to be together. They were successful, yes. But they were a damned sorry lot in so many other ways when they all found it so painful to set foot on Mesa Falls Ranch, the one business they’d begrudgingly forged together.
Even that had been orchestrated in large part by emails and conference calls. All to avoid feeling the keen sense of loss that being together always stirred.
“So we need a game plan for tonight,” Weston reminded his friends, keenly feeling the absence of the one who would never be with them again. “And I’d like for someone else to consider spending more time on site going forward to help me with damage control once the paparazzi start descending on this place.”
Every last one of the owners had built a home somewhere on the property when they’d purchased the land, so it wasn’t as if they didn’t have places to stay. Yet Miles was already shaking his head. Desmond studied the food on his plate. Gage sank into his chair again, crumpling the custom-made tuxedo even more.
“Hell no, mate,” he groused. “Not me.”
“Ever since Tabitha Barnes unmasked Alonzo in front of reporters at the Christmas gala, we’ve been on borrowed time keeping the past quiet.” Weston curled his fist around the cold beer, wanting to wrap things up so he could move on with his night. With April. “It’s all coming to a head. And I’m not going to be standing here alone when it does.”
He’d always been content to be the point man for Mesa Falls Ranch business before, but since meeting April, he wanted the opportunity to travel. To woo her. Time apart from her had only made him realize how right they were together. He just needed to find a way to make her believe it too.
“Let’s see what tonight brings first, okay?” Desmond suggested as he returned to his seat, sliding his plate onto the stand by his chair while he opened his beer. “We can meet at Gage’s house for breakfast in the morning before our flights start leaving. Maybe by then Jonah will be here too, if not Alec.”
Nods all around seemed to indicate there was a consensus. They were a hell of a lot quieter group than the boys who’d once torn it up together in school.
Miles cleared his throat and raised his beer. “But for now, thanks, brother, for all you’ve done here.”
Weston felt his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at his sibling’s surprise praise. But it wasn’t a bad feeling to see his friends lift their bottles and clink them together, muttering, “Thanks, man,” all around.
It was practically a standing ovation, considering the crowd.
Belatedly, he tipped his drink to theirs.
“Always.” It was a single simple word, and yet it burned his throat. It was the same word they’d all spoken the night they’d mourned Zach’s death and promised to have each other’s backs no matter what.
The memory wasn’t lost on any of them.
Twelve
“Wow.” Weston’s greeting made April glad she’d spent the time to find the right dress. “You take my breath away.”
His hazel eyes roamed over her with a flare of hot appreciation as they met in the lobby of the main lodge. She’d come downstairs to wait for him, fearing her heart would be too full of emotions if he came to her room, where vases of exotic blooms filled every free stand and table. His over-the-top romantic gesture had touched her even as it gave her a poignant reminder of their vastly different worlds.
Now, she was all the more relieved she’d chosen to meet him down here instead of in the privacy of her room. If they’d been alone, she wasn’t sure she’d make it out the door without throwing herself in his arms. Just his gaze on her skin made her warm all over. Meanwhile, as they stood there in the busy lobby, guests mingled and waited for their vehicles from the valet.
“I’m glad you like it.” Breathless from his proximity, she peered down at her cocktail gown. She’d chosen the springlike confection in defiance of the snow still on the ground. The sheer, pale green chiffon netting overlaid silk in some places, and bar
e skin in others, and was dotted with white flowers with tiny seed pearls at their centers. The deep vee of the front and back of the dress flattered her, while the handkerchief hemline teased her calves in soft touches. “I had fun choosing it.”
Her impromptu dress consultation with Elena had been more fun than she’d anticipated after the somewhat awkward start. She hadn’t wanted to be starstruck while trying on dresses, so she’d refrained from asking about Elena’s career, knowing that pinpointing her fame would only make April more nervous. Once Lorelle had left the room, they’d taken turns trying on gowns and giving feedback. Tory, the delivery person, insisted she wasn’t a boutique consultant but just a driver, so she hadn’t wanted to share her opinion. Instead, she’d spent the time on the phone with her employer, making sure both women received their designer rentals at a fraction of the cost because of the mix-up.
Which made the day all the better, in light of April’s finances.
“I hope picking the dress was only the beginning of the fun you’re going to have tonight.” He took her trench coat from where she’d draped it over her arm.
His words reminded her of all the flowers he’d sent.
“Thank you for the beautiful bouquets, Weston.” She hadn’t called him to thank him, thinking she’d see him soon enough in person. But after each consecutive delivery—there’d been five—she had felt even more special. “The fragrance in my room is incredible. It will be like sleeping in a hothouse tonight.”
His eyes locked on hers as he lifted the coat to drape over her shoulders.
“An image I won’t soon forget,” he assured her as he moved behind her, carefully sliding her hair to one side in a way that made her back tingle. “You are more than welcome.”
With her trench finally settled around her shoulders, the fabric felt like a caress. Or maybe it was just knowing his hands were on the other side of the cloth. A shiver of pleasure tickled its way up her spine at the sight of him in his tuxedo, his hair still damp from his shower.