by Stacy Finz
“What about a great bottle of wine?” Sam suggested.
“Something from Châteauneuf-du-Pape,” Brady interjected, surprising Nate. The chef seemed to be coming out of his shell.
“That sounds good.” Nate had a corporate wine buyer who could get him something special. “What are you getting them?” he asked Sam.
“I made a donation to the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children in their name.” Years ago, Emily’s daughter had been kidnapped from her backyard in the Bay Area and was still missing. It was so tragic that even the folks in Nugget didn’t gossip about it.
“That was nice.” Nate would give it to Sam. She was not only classy, but incredibly considerate. “So what’s this spreadsheet?”
“I noticed a trend emerging at the expo,” she said. “Maybe it’s an old trend and new to me. But I think if we play our cards right we could take advantage of it.”
“Yeah? What’s the trend?”
“People want country weddings. They want barns. They want horses. They want bluegrass bands.”
“It’s true,” Brady said. “I catered like twenty of them last summer. Where I come from in South Carolina that’s just the way people get married. But in LA they go nuts for this kind of stuff.”
“So what do you want me to do, build a barn and buy some horses?”
“No. But Lucky’s place is perfect. He has an industrial kitchen, even bigger than this one. A giant lodge that could accommodate at least three hundred people. And plenty of barns and horses.”
“How does that help us?”
“We partner with him. But to a guy like Lucky Rodriguez this might be a hard sell.”
“Uh, ya think? The guy won’t even call his venture a dude ranch, afraid it’ll make him sound like a wuss,” Nate said.
“Hey, money talks.” Brady held his hand up and rubbed his fingers together. Nate was really starting to like the guy.
“Perhaps we just rent the venue from him for weddings,” Sam said. “That way he doesn’t have any part in it. But one thing I found at the expo is that these brides not only want a country wedding, they want a full weekend of activities. How great would it be to team up with Lucky and put on amateur rodeos that the guests could either participate in or just watch? Barn dances and trail rides. The possibilities are endless.”
Her enthusiasm gave Nate flashbacks of Kayla. Right now she was gung ho, but how long until she petered out on the idea, leaving him to make good on all the country weekend weddings she booked? He didn’t have the time.
“I’ll think about it, Sam.”
Her disappointment was palpable, and he was tempted to give in just to see her revved up again. Because watching Sam run high made him hot. Her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing with possibilities, her body vibrating with excitement. The woman had a great business head on her. Nate would give her that. But being a success meant seeing an idea through to the bitter end.
“It’s got major possibilities, Sam. It really does. I just don’t like relying on other people outside my organization.” Or inside for that matter, especially when he didn’t know how soon until Sam would run. More and more that was starting to matter for more than work reasons. And Nate didn’t like it.
“Lucky is big on this partnership, Nate. He wants more than anything to be a success. I don’t see how it could hurt us.”
“I said I’ll think about it.” He got up without having any lobster potpie. Somehow he’d lost his appetite.
On his way out, he heard Brady say, “It’s a great idea, Sam. Nate’ll come around. You’ll see.”
Great. He had the whole staff ganging up on him. Back in his office, he found a message from Tracy to call her. He didn’t want to deal with her now, so he phoned Maddy.
“You up for taking a look at that place on Gold Mountain?”
“Thank God. I need to get out of this house and have some adult conversation. Give me thirty minutes. I can bring Emma, right?”
“Of course. We’re just checking it out. You haven’t told anyone, Maddy?”
“Nope. Well, just Rhys.”
“Maddy, if this gets out, it leaves us no negotiating power.”
She laughed as if he was being ridiculous. “He’s my husband, Nate.”
At least Rhys was the least likely person to blab. In a town of gossipers, Nate’s brother-in-law knew how to keep other people’s secrets. Nate suspected Rhys knew where all the bodies were buried in town, but to keep the peace he never said a word.
“Hurry up and meet me at the inn,” Nate said. “I’ll drive.”
“It’s easier for me. I’ve got the car seat for Emma.”
“She can use Lilly’s. It’s already in the Jag.”
Maddy showed up an hour later. “Sorry. Do you know how long it takes to get out of the house with a baby in tow?”
They loaded Emma and her twenty-pound diaper bag into the car and hit the road. Gold Mountain was a fifteen-minute ride on Highway 89. The place was a thriving community of cabins built around a lake that the same families rented summer after summer. The owner, a man in his nineties, had recently died and his children wanted to sell. The property required too much upkeep and they didn’t have the money or inclination to bring it back to its former glory.
Nate had both. What he liked most about Gold Mountain was that it was fifteen minutes from Glory Junction, a small, quaint tourist town that catered to one of the most popular ski areas in Northern California. The place reeked of money.
When they got there, Nate could see just how badly the old man had let Gold Mountain go. As they wandered through, pretending to be guests, he noted that the cabins, badly weathered, and the pool, a concrete eyesore, needed updating in the worst way. The rec room had ancient Ping-Pong and foosball tables and the children’s playground was full of rusted swing sets and monkey bars. The resort—Nate used the word loosely—reminded him of a 1950s trailer park.
Nevertheless, the place was packed and it was only June. People lounged at the pool and canoed and kayaked on the lake—the only part of Gold Mountain that remained pristine.
“Wow, this place needs work,” Maddy muttered. “It’ll take a good chunk of change to make it shiny again. Why do you think all these people still come?”
“Because they’re getting the same rates they got in 1975,” he said, having looked at Gold Mountain’s profit and loss statements.
“That’ll be a problem. As soon as we raise the rates to pay for improvements, we’ll lose all these regulars.” Maddy motioned at a group playing volleyball.
“Maybe not. There’s a chance they’ll be happy for the upgrades. If we winterize the cabins and run a shuttle service from here to the ski slopes, we could keep this place open during the cold months.” Right now, Gold Mountain only ran from April to October.
Maddy gave him a lingering glance. “This doesn’t look at all like your cup of tea, Nate. Way too Kumbaya, let’s sit around the campfire for your taste.”
“My taste is to make money, and Gold Mountain could be a gold mine.” He took off for the lodge.
“Where are you going?” Maddy followed, bouncing Emma in her pack to keep up.
“I want to see if there’s a barn on the property.”
“A barn? What for?”
“Sam says barn weddings are huge right now.”
Maddy looked at him like he’d grown a horn out of his head. “So?”
“We could do events.” Nate followed an overgrown bike trail that wound around the perimeter of the property. “Doesn’t look like they have one. But we could build a barn.”
“Stop,” Maddy said, out of breath. “The place has a big old lodge. Why would we build a barn?”
“I told you, Sam seems to think it’ll attract events. She wants to use Lucky Rodriguez’s place. I don’t know how good I am with that.”
“But you’re good with Sam?” She waggled her eyebrows.
“No. In fact, I’m sure she’ll quit any day now. It doesn’t mean I can�
��t steal her ideas.” They wandered back to the car. So far, Emma had held up like a trooper, but knowing what Nate did about babies, it wouldn’t last too much longer.
“Nate, did you do something to her that’ll make her want to quit?” Maddy huffed.
“Now why would you say that? I’m the ideal boss.” Yeah, when he wasn’t sticking his tongue down Sam’s throat.
“Then why are you so sure that she’ll leave?”
He gave Maddy a long look, then opened the car door, took Emma from her, and buckled her into Lilly’s car seat.
“Oh. My. God.” Maddy held her hands up and lifted her face to the sky. “Kayla! That’s what this thing is with you about Sam. You’re comparing her to Kayla. Nate, Kayla was a complete and utter whack job. Do not compare the two.”
“How do you know they’re not similar? They have the same exact backgrounds.”
“Because they’re not. Sam is responsible. She’s committed. She’s . . . she’s so not Kayla. From the first minute Claire and I met Kayla, we knew she’d been beaten by the crazy stick. The only reason we didn’t jump for joy the night she dumped you is because you were so completely in love with her. The last thing we wanted to do was hurt you more. But, big brother, you dodged a Teflon-coated bullet. That woman would’ve made your life a living hell. My guess is that she’s either living on an Israeli kibbutz or owns a sex-toy boutique on Newbury Street.”
“Last I heard she was an interior decorator,” Nate said.
“Well, how many minutes ago was that? Because by now she’s probably working for the Department of Defense or trying her hand at macrame.”
Nate had to laugh at that one. Maddy got in the passenger seat and shut the door while Nate started the engine.
“Did Mom and Dad hate her too?” he asked.
“Hate is a very strong word, Nate. But yes. They did.”
For no reason at all, he wondered what they would think of Sam.
“Sam is nothing like her,” Maddy said, as if reading his mind, because sisters could do that.
“Oh yeah, then why do you think she left her fiancé flat?”
“Owen says he was beating her,” Maddy said, suppressing a laugh.
Nate highly doubted that. The woman would’ve kicked his ass. God knew she challenged Nate at every turn.
“If you’re interested in her, why don’t you just ask her?” Maddy said. “And while you’re at it, you should do something nice for her, given all the work she put into your house. Your place is now gorgeous.”
“What do you think of Gold Mountain?” He desperately wanted to change the subject.
“I think it has possibilities. Would we buy it on our own, or with investors?”
“That’s why I’m interested in it. I think we could swing it on our own.”
“I still have the money from my divorce settlement. Rhys won’t have anything to do with it. ‘I don’t want to see any of that goddamned money coming through our household. I support our family. ’” She mimicked him in a deep Texas drawl. “The guy is such a Neanderthal.”
“But you love him, right?”
“More than anything in the world, except Emma.” She turned to the backseat. “Right, girl? We love your daddy.”
He was happy for his sister. After her ex, she deserved the best.
“I want to get a few estimates on what it would take to spiff the place up before we make an offer,” Nate said.
“That sounds smart. We’d need a full staff to run it. Between Emma and the Lumber Baron, I’ll have my hands full.”
“Yep. I’ve thought about that. It won’t be easy, but we’ll find the right people.” He certainly couldn’t keep up this back-and-forth situation without killing himself.
They returned to the inn, where Maddy came in to meet Brady, but couldn’t stay long because Emma was having a volcanic meltdown. Nate hid in his office, looking to avoid Sam. He knew she still wanted to show him her spreadsheet, which despite himself he found cute. Tracy had left three more messages. Nate decided he’d better call her back before she had a volcanic meltdown of her own.
“What’s up?” he said over the phone.
“Um, only that I’ve tried to call you a million times.”
Nate could do without Tracy’s lip. “Well, you’ve got me now. So what’s the emergency?”
“The emergency is that I quit.”
“Tracy, stop with the theatrics. I’m not at your beck and call, so you quit?”
“No. I quit because I got a better offer.”
“That’s great,” he lied. Nate intended to play hardball, because he didn’t think for one minute she’d really leave. Not with what he paid her. “So you’re giving me your two weeks?”
“Nope,” she said. “That ship sailed an hour ago when you didn’t return my calls. I’m outta here, Nate. Today. Right now.”
Uh-oh! He’d certainly miscalculated that one. But he’d be damned before he begged the prima donna to stay. “Can I trust you not to steal the computers, or should I have Security escort you out?”
“Screw you, Nate!” She hung up before he could ask about the opera gala file.
The opera gala. How the hell was he supposed to pull that off now?
Chapter 16
“Not now,” Nate told Sam as she shadowed him down the hallway.
“What’s wrong?” The man had been gone most of the day and she wanted to show him her spreadsheet and prove to him that partnering with Lucky on the barn weddings would be sound business.
“Tracy just quit. Didn’t even give me two weeks.” He kept walking.
“As far as I can tell, she did you a favor,” Sam called to his back.
He spun around and glared at her. “You think leaving me in the midst of planning a huge event is doing me a favor?”
“All I know is that she couldn’t care less about that expo. For most of it she disappeared to flirt with some man from the Simpson Hotel Group. And when she was present, she was rude to people. She couldn’t even be bothered to give out simple information.”
Nate folded his arms over his chest. “And you waited until now to tell me this?”
“Everyone said she’s your pet. The rumor’s that you’re engaged. I thought that you would think I was being catty.”
“For Christ’s sake, Sam, I told you there was nothing between Tracy and me.”
Yeah, and there was nothing between Royce and half the women under thirty on the East Coast. The dumb cow is nothing more than a for-show wife, rang in her ears.
Nate turned and continued down the hall.
“Where are you going?” she called to him.
He stopped again. “To the men’s room. Did you want to come?”
“I’ll help you with whatever work she left you.”
“Thanks, Sam, but I’ll manage.”
Whatever. She was just trying to be a team player. But if Nate didn’t want her help, then he could fend for himself for all she cared. She had last-minute touches to make on Emily’s wedding anyway. In her office she grabbed her purse, then headed out, got in her car, and drove to McCreedy Ranch.
She found Clay and Emily on the expansive front lawn, looking at her diagram, pacing off the measurements of the tent.
“You sure we’ll fit everything in, Red?” Only Royce had ever called her that before. On Clay’s lips it sounded much more endearing. Sam got the sense that Clay wasn’t the type to call someone by a nickname unless he liked her.
“It’ll all fit,” she assured him. “I mapped everything out.”
“Even the porta-potties?” he wanted to know. They’d ordered deluxe ones in trailers, which could pass for fancy powder rooms.
“I have those down there.” She pointed to an area adjacent to the front lawn that afforded a little more privacy.
But Clay still looked doubtful. So Sam walked them through it, describing where the big tent would go, as well as various food stations and the band’s stage and dance floor. The actual ceremony would take place b
etween two oak trees on the property. Emily had told Sam that Clay had planted one of the trees in honor of Emily’s missing daughter.
The chairs would be delivered the night before the wedding and Sam would be on hand to make sure they were set up just right for the ceremony and reception.
“I don’t know how I could’ve done this without you,” Emily said. “Everything feels so organized.”
“That’s because it is,” Sam said. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing. It’s your day and I want you to enjoy it.”
“You’ll make sure the florist does the centerpieces and the chair boughs correctly, right?”
“Absolutely. I have everything sketched out.” Sam showed Emily and Clay her folder filled with diagrams, drawings, and sticky notes.
“I don’t know what Nate’s paying you, but you could make a fortune organizing these types of shindigs,” Clay said, and Sam laughed. It was nice to be appreciated.
“This is my first wedding,” she confided. “But have no fear. I’ve organized enough large-scale garden parties that I could do it in my sleep.”
“You’ve got the touch, that’s for sure,” Clay said. “If it’s all right, I think I’ll leave you ladies to the rest of it. I’ve got cattle to feed.”
Clay kissed Emily goodbye. It was just a peck, but there was so much sizzle between the two of them that Sam felt like a voyeur standing there. For a second, Sam’s thoughts flashed to Nate’s kiss, but she forced the memory out of her mind. The man was a schizoid. Half the time he was flirting with her, the other half he was pushing her away.
“Are you bringing a date?” Emily asked.
Now where would she find one of those in Nugget? “I’ll be too busy.”
“You should come with Nate. Maddy says he’s not bringing anyone and he’s so handsome.”
“I see enough of him at work.” Sam sighed.
“Well, there’s that.” Emily tilted her head in question. “I thought there might be a spark between you two.”
Sam shook her head. “More like a hail of gunfire.”