Flawless (A Love, California Series Novel, Book 1)

by Jan Moran

  “Anika and Bella would love that,” she said. “I knew you were destined for greatness, Fianna. You always had incredible talent. Surely success is right around the corner for you.”

  “I hope so, this boutique and the new lines cost a fortune to create. Every penny I make seems to go right back into the business. If I can expand distribution, which takes more investment in inventory, then Scarlett can work on the licensing deals she has in mind.”

  “Sounds like you have a plan.”

  “You bet I do,” Fianna said, her mouth set in a determined line. “Here’s your traveling wardrobe.” She handed the package to Verena. “Have a great trip, and be sure to take care of that ring with Elena as soon as you return.”

  “Ah, the glamour of travel,” Mia said facetiously as she, Verena, and the twins prepared to go through the airport security line on their way to France. Verena was glad that Mia had managed to obtain a ticket on the same flight they were taking.

  Verena removed her shoes, belt, and jacket, emptied her pockets, took out her laptop, tablet computer, and mobile phone, and placed everything in the bins on the conveyer belt for scanning. Between the four of them, Verena had twelve bins to organize.

  “And the twins think this is fun,” Mia said, watching Anika and Bella relish the new experience.

  “But sadly, it’s necessary.” Verena thought about her friend from school who had died aboard one of the airplanes that had hit the World Trade Center. She still thought about her, and missed her smile and laughter. It had been such a senseless death—a murder, really—and one that she would never forget.

  Anika looked at Mia and Verena. “May I go through the line first?” she asked, while Bella was hopping from one foot to another in anticipation.

  “Yes, but you have to wait for the security personnel to give you clearance before you go through. Remember girls, each of you must watch your belongings and collect your bins as soon as you get through the body scanning machine.”

  As Verena prepared to go through the line, she caught a glimpse of the back of a man who had just gone through one of the other security lines in front of her. She blinked. No, it couldn’t be. She squinted and tried to get a better look. Is that Lance? She could have sworn it was, but she hadn’t seen his face. She shook her head. No, it couldn’t be. He was slipping into her thoughts every day; she couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind. How silly of me.

  “Verena, are you going?” Mia was waiting for her.

  “What? Oh, no, you go ahead, Mia.” Verena watched her grandmother walk through the scanner, and though she was still in great shape for her age, despite her bouts with cancer, she noticed her slowing step. She thought about Anika and Bella, and knew she should have another talk with Derrick. But after her experience with Joe, she balked at bringing up the topic. And after she’d thought about it more at Fianna’s shop, she realized Derrick had been changing the subject. Had it been on purpose? Was this a sign?

  When it was her turn to walk through the scanner, she walked through, and then held her arms out while a woman scanned her body with a portable device. As she put her arms down, she heard a clink on the floor.

  “What was that?” the woman asked.

  Verena looked down at her left hand. “My engagement ring.”

  “There it goes,” the woman said, pointing to the ring as it bounced and slid across the floor.

  Verena scrambled after it, and when she returned to her family, Mia said, “You shouldn’t wear that ring until it’s properly sized. Put it into your purse for safekeeping.”

  “There’s a jeweler next to Fianna’s shop on Robertson. I’ll take it there when I return.”

  “I’ll go with you. I have some pieces that need repair, too.”

  Once they’d made it through security and boarded an Air France plane, the four of them settled in for the long trans-Atlantic flight. After the in-flight meal, they took turns going to the tiny bathroom to perform their nightly skin cleansing ritual. Verena replaced the girls’ shoes with fuzzy socks, tucked them into their reclined seats with thin flight blankets, and watched as they fell asleep.

  Several hours later, Verena woke to the smell of coffee. What was I dreaming? She was still groggy in her half dream state. She realized with a start that it was Lance, not Derrick, in her dreams. What’s the matter with me? A man cooks two meals for me and I can’t get him out of my mind? She stretched and rotated her cramped neck, disturbed by her nocturnal fantasy.

  Mia was next to her, watching her with interest. “Good morning. Sweet dreams?”

  “Not really.”

  “Seemed like it. You were talking in your sleep.” Mia had an amused look on her face.

  “Don’t tell me. I’ll get coffee.” Verena threw off her blanket. The plane was dark, and most of the passengers were still sleeping. She padded down the aisle to the galley, where a flight attendant prepared two cups of coffee for her. As she waited, she peered into the cabin in front of her. She looked for the man that had been ahead of them in the security line, but she couldn’t see much.

  “Crème?” the flight attendant asked.

  “Oui, merci, mademoiselle.”

  “Sucre?”

  “Non, merci.”

  She carried the cups back to her seat, pausing as she looked at Mia, who was arranging her hair, and Anika and Bella, who were still sleeping. Mia had an array of small travel-sized Valent skincare products on her tray: toning lotion, moisturizer, eye cream. And her special serum. Verena loved the subtle fresh smell of their product line. To her, it was the scent of morning.

  Verena sat down and placed the cups on her tray. “Here you are.”

  “Thank you, my dear,” Mia whispered.

  Watching the girls sleep and her grandmother conduct her beauty ritual, even on an airplane, made Verena realize how much she loved her family, and how much they depended on her. This is an important trip. The business, their livelihood, their way of life—everything was at stake.

  A little while later, after a breakfast of croissants, yogurt, and fruit, the flight began its descent into Charles de Gaulle airport outside of Paris. Anika and Bella craned their necks to see out of the window.

  “Look at the patches of farm land,” Bella cried, “I thought Paris was a city.”

  “Of course it is,” Anika answered. “But they don’t land airplanes there.”

  Verena remembered her first trip to Europe with Mia. She had finished the school year with good grades—just as Anika and Bella had—so her parents had rewarded her with the trip for her thirteenth birthday. Mia had been an energetic woman; her battle with cancer was still five years away. Mia insisted on showing Verena her favorite museums—the Musée d’Orsay, the Louvre, and the Rodin—as well as her favorite skincare salons and fashion boutiques, and tea at the Hôtel Ritz.

  Mia glanced at the twins and smiled. She turned to Verena. “Remember the first time you and I came here?”

  “I was just thinking about it. Shall we show them the same sites?”

  “Absolutely.” Mia made a small moue with her mouth. “I’d love to visit the d’Orsay and the Rodin, but let’s start with the Louvre. We can save the others for another trip.” She stretched and rotated her ankles as she spoke. “Verena, you should go to the meeting at Rose Beauté by yourself. I’ve been away from the business for so long, I can’t really add to the meeting.”

  “Nonsense, Mia, you’re the founder. You’ll always be the face of Valent.”

  Mia patted her arm. “I had my turn, but today you’re the face of Valent.” She looked at the twins, who were thrilled that the airplane was about to touch down. “They’ll have their turn, too, someday. If I were there, Henri and I would waste time going down memory lane. You’ll need all the time they’ve allotted for you. Be thorough. Henri will listen, but he will also be honest with you.”

  As Mia turned her attention to the twins, Verena leaned her head back, mentally preparing her presentation to Henri. In the last ten years, lin
ing up funds to finance the company’s growth had been one of her most important activities. Valent Swiss Skincare was a first class product line, always on the innovative edge, and their customer service was second to none. To stay at the forefront of skincare innovations required more than dedication—it required financial investment.

  Fortunately, they had an impeccable credit record with their banks and vendors. Mia had always prided herself on that, and Verena assiduously protected their reputation in business circles.

  She massaged her aching neck. She had to prepare a concise, persuasive presentation by tomorrow. During the flight her muscles had tightened, and spasms stung her shoulder blades. I haven’t got much time. As the plane touched down on the runway and hurtled to a halt, she set her watch to the local time.

  Gazing out the window, Verena prayed she could steer their company to a safe landing in Asia as well. Everything her family had worked for depended on her efforts.

  11

  “Welcome to the Villa and Hôtel Majestic,” the doorman said as he opened the door to the limousine.

  Verena smiled at the girls, whose eyes were round with curiosity and delight. Anika and Bella had been so excited to ride in the sleek black car. In Beverly Hills, they often saw limousines, especially those of the much longer stretch variety. But cruising through the café-lined streets of Paris and around the Arc de Triomphe on their way to the hotel was a new experience for them. Verena was glad they weren’t jaded.

  “Here we are,” Mia said. Accepting the doorman’s proffered hand, Mia slid out of the car first.

  Verena looked up at their hotel. She could see balconies at the top of the exclusive boutique inn. And the service seemed impeccable. She watched as their luggage was efficiently whisked away.

  “Can we go out now?” Bella asked. “I’m hungry.”

  “We have to go to a café and sit outside,” Anika added with a sophisticated arch of her brow. “It’s the thing to do in Paris.”

  Mia glanced at Verena. “We could probably use a glass of champagne, n’est-ce pas?” When Verena hesitated, Mia put her hand on her shoulder and said, “You have to eat, you know. Come with us and let’s relax.”

  Verena nodded. “We’re all experiencing jet lag. It’s morning in Paris, but well, why not?”

  They were shown to their suite, which had a small kitchenette, high ceilings, a large bathtub and separate shower. It was tastefully decorated in the French style with sumptuous taupe and burgundy fabrics and draperies, silver gilded furniture, a shaded chandelier overhead, and a polished parquet wood floor.

  “How lovely,” Mia remarked. “This was a good suggestion.”

  “You have a great travel agent,” Verena said, admiring the comfortable rooms.

  Mia looked nonplussed for a moment, before she replied, “Of course, the travel agent. Mariana is excellent.”

  “Isn’t she the one who suggested this hotel?” Verena asked.

  Mia waved her hand. “I’d forgotten. At my age, I sometimes forget my name.”

  Anika and Bella dissolved into giggles.

  After unpacking, they set off toward Place Victor Hugo, a large roundabout where ten avenues feed into it, and fountains of waters soared in the center. Stylish shops and cafés were dotted around the perimeter.

  At the Café Le Victor Hugo, they sat under apple red canopies and ordered croissants and salads and foie gras, and the twins had ice cream for dessert.

  “And here’s to a successful trip for you, my dear,” Mia said, raising a glass of champagne to Verena. “Trust that you are ready.” She gave her a confident nod. “Life is shorter than we think, so we must always make the most of it.”

  Verena clinked glasses with Mia. She sat back to watch the girls and observe the simple joy on her grandmother’s face. Mia had faced illness and death so often. I’ll do anything to make her life comfortable, Verena thought with a pang to her heart. Anything to preserve the company Mia built.

  “We should have more roundabouts at home,” Anika said, her voice thoughtful. “Look how easily traffic flows around them. Whoever thought of that was very wise.”

  “There’s certainly something to be said for them,” Mia said, lifting a brow at Verena.

  The girls were growing up, crossing the chasm between childhood and the women they would become. Soon they would be joining Valent Swiss Skincare and working by Verena’s side, continuing the family tradition.

  As long as Verena could produce the funding needed. Can I? she wondered, worrying about her meeting.

  After they ate, they strolled along Avenue Victor Hugo. The twins loved going into the boutiques. With their slender figures it was easy to find clothes, and they were excited to find a pair of new outfits that Mia had promised them. The day passed quickly, and soon they were enjoying a light supper at another brasserie on the corner of Avenue Kléber.

  Verena saw Bella stifle a yawn. “We should go to bed early for a good night’s sleep. The first day is always difficult with the time change.”

  When they returned to the hotel, Mia and the girls prepared for bed, but Verena still lay awake with thoughts of tomorrow’s meeting spiraling through her mind.

  “I’m going to the pool downstairs for a swim,” she told Mia. “I need to clear my head.”

  “Good idea. I’m sure we’ll all be asleep when you return.”

  Verena slipped into her cream-colored maillot swimsuit, which she preferred for serious swimming and always carried with her when she traveled. She threw on a white cotton hotel robe and took the elevator down to the lower level where the spa, fitness room, and pool were located. She noticed that it was only seven in the evening, and after a quick calculation, realized it was mid-morning in California, but she hadn’t slept much on the airplane.

  She stepped out of the elevator, walked past the massage and fitness rooms, and opened the door to the pool area. Good, it’s deserted. Plenty of time to think in silence. She removed her slippers and stepped into the foot bath to cleanse her feet before entering the room.

  To her left, glass walled topiaries were illuminated with subtle colored lights, rotating between soft shades of blue, green, yellow, and red. A few cushioned chairs and lounge chairs surrounded the pool, while at the far end of the room water trickled over a pebbled wall, which sounded like a natural waterfall. The soothing spa music lifted another degree of tension from her shoulders.

  After draping her robe across a chaise lounge, Verena stepped into the pool. The salt water felt silky against her skin, and she appreciated its therapeutic value. The water temperature was perfect—warm enough not to jar her, but cool enough for a vigorous swim. Stretching and lengthening her body through the water, she began to swim.

  The water muted the world around her, and as she coursed through the water, she thought about her meeting with Henri, what she would say, what he might say. In her mind she rehearsed her replies, just as she did before every important meeting. She revisited their revenue numbers, the Asian expansion timeline, and the marketing plan. She felt lighter, sleekly skimming through the water from one side of the pool, before turning and continuing to the other side.

  The financial numbers were fresh in her mind after the exhaustive due diligence that Herringbone had ordered. Unbidden thoughts of Jimmy Don intruded, and his pasty white face floated into her mind. He had acted more like a chief operating officer, gleefully grilling her about procedures and costs and operations. She submerged, swimming deeper under water as if to escape his omnipresent smirks.

  Powerful strokes propelled her through the water. The muscles in her arms began to burn.

  A foreboding sense deep in her gut warned her against the Herringbone alliance. If Henri Becaud could help, they’d have no need for Herringbone.

  She’d met Thomas Roper once. He had a smooth complexion for a man his age, but it wasn’t from years of proper skincare. There were no creases around his eyes from laughing, no furrows between his brows from worry. Nothing, even, to suggest a life we
ll-lived. That’s it, Verena realized, catching her breath as she broke the surface slightly. He had the waxy, expressionless complexion of a sociopath.

  Tension gnarled between her shoulders. The Herringbone deal disturbed her. It made sense on paper, but every time she thought about it, agitation rose within her. She fought against the feeling now, flipping in the water when she touched the edge of the pool, speeding to the other end, and repeating. She cut through the water—faster and stronger with each length—her chest feeling as if it would explode, frustration welling in her chest.

  Her breathing was labored, but she kept on, slicing the water with powerful strokes, pulling herself through the currents her body created. Stroke, and stroke.

  She pushed farther, harder, thrusting herself forward with the fury she’d had in school swimming competitions, only now it was the ultimate competition that drove her, the fight for survival. We can do it, we will win, we will win.... She tried to expunge images of Jimmy Don and Roper, exertion and anger overtaking her judgment. Faster, faster.

  She approached the end of the pool, nearly ready to flip again, but blinded with rage and determination she miscalculated, her unbridled power driving her headfirst into the wall.

  A splitting pain shot through her head, while the rock-hard thud took her breath away.

  She gulped reflexively and water filled her lungs. Her chest threatened to explode, her limbs thrashed ineffectively. No, she screamed in her mind. Her head was throbbing. She tried to pull herself to the surface, but she was disoriented and drove to the bottom instead. Her breath spent, she choked and sputtered, the taste of salt water in her mouth. Water surrounded her in swift blackness and she felt herself separating from consciousness.

  She was floating in suspension when a wave crashed her against the wall of the pool with a deadened thud.

  A moment later, a strong arm rushed her to the surface, and frigid air blasted her face. Thrust from the pool, she landed on her stomach. A man flipped her like a fish and pressed her chest, purging salt water from her lungs. Finally she gasped for breath, heaving and coughing. What happened? She was an expert swimmer.