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

by Jan Moran

  Tentatively, Verena rested against his chest, and found his steady heartbeat calmed her own racing heart. A thought of Paris flashed through her mind as she detected the familiar scent of his skin. How I’ve missed this man.

  After a few minutes she felt somewhat restored. She raised her face to his. “You came to see Mia, so we should go in. She’ll be glad to see you.”

  “I’d hoped you would be here, too.” Lance slid a finger along the line of her jaw.

  A flicker of appreciation surfaced and she lifted a corner of her mouth. She was genuinely glad he was here. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I wish I’d come sooner.” His deep voice reverberated in his chest.

  “And I wish I’d returned your calls.”

  “Me, too. But you’re forgiven.” He grinned and helped her to her feet. He grabbed his bag, and pushed open the door to Mia’s room.

  “My dear Lance,” Mia said, her eyes brimming with delight.

  Lance crossed to her and kissed her hand, and then turned to Camille, who sat next to her, and did the same.

  “Such a lovely aroma of food always clings to you,” Camille said.

  Lance opened his bag. “Maybe this is what you smell.” He unloaded two large plastic containers, and several smaller ones. Verena scooted a table close to the bed for him.

  Mia clasped her hands. “Oh, you darling man. The food here is adequate, but certainly not gourmet. I admit I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

  “I thought as much. Unfortunately, I only brought two of everything, but I can divide it three ways. And don’t worry, it’s healthy, too.”

  “Smells divine,” Camille said.

  “I’m not really hungry, I had something earlier,” Verena said. “Mia and Camille need to eat.”

  Lance raised an eyebrow toward her, but said nothing. He spread a tablecloth across the surface, added napkins, plates and silverware, and began to assemble the dinner. “This evening you’re dining on sesame-crusted wild salmon in a white wine reduction sauce, with fresh pineapple mango salsa. Steamed broccoli on the side, along with quinoa spiked with ginger, garlic, and scallions.” After he plated the dinner and served it, Mia waved him to her side.

  “You’ve made my day.” Her eyes glistened as she gave him a peck on the cheek.

  Verena could swear he blushed. “What, no dessert?” she asked, chiding him.

  “How could I have forgotten?” He brought out two containers and opened one with a flourish. “Strawberry tarts with crushed almond crust, spa-style.” He withdrew two half-sized bottles and wine glasses. “And, your choice of wine or sparkling water.”

  “Wine for me,” Camille said, her eyes gleaming.

  “Sparkling water for me,” Mia added. “My medication might react with alcohol.”

  “Smart lady.” Lance poured their requests, and then stepped back to admire his handiwork and watch the two women gush over his meal.

  “You’re amazing.” Verena stood next to him, thankful that he’d come with such a thoughtful treat for Mia.

  Mia took a forkful of the quinoa and her eyes fluttered with delight. “Verena, dear, I know you haven’t had much to eat, why don’t you and Lance go out and have a nice, quiet meal?”

  “What a good idea,” Lance said, taking Verena’s hand. “Actually, I have to return to the hotel to check on a special event. Why don’t you come with me?”

  The feel of his hand sparked an avalanche of memories in her, but secretly, she was relieved. The vending machine food hadn’t been satisfying, and she really needed to leave the hospital before she tried to murder Thomas Roper again.

  “We’ll be fine,” Camille assured her. “I’ll look after Mia tonight. And Pierre should be here soon.”

  “As long as you have two good friends to look after you.” Verena bent to kiss Mia good-bye.

  Her grandmother cleared her throat. “Verena, there’s something you should know.”

  “What is it?” Verena saw Mia and Camille trade a pointed look. “Did you speak to the doctor again?”

  “What? Oh no, nothing like that,” Mia said. Her face lit with happiness and she looked like she would burst. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that Pierre and I are becoming quite serious.”

  “Why, that’s wonderful.” Verena gave Mia another kiss on the cheek. Verena was surprised, but why should she be? Mia was a very attractive woman. “As long as you’re happy.”

  Mia blushed. “He’s a fine man. He was such a good husband to Ondine, and since both she and Emile are gone, we thought perhaps they wouldn’t mind.”

  After they said their good-byes, Verena and Lance stepped out into the corridor.

  “Wait, stop.” Verena pressed a hand against Lance’s chest. Oh my God, it’s Roper—and Derrick. Verena pressed herself behind Lance. Her heart was pounding. “I don’t want to see them,” she whispered. They stood watching a drama unfold before them.

  Ahead of them was Thomas Roper, dressed in street clothes and cursing at the nurses. By his side was Derrick, wearing gym clothes and sweating as if he’d come straight from the gym.

  “I don’t care what you tell the doctor,” Roper said to a nurse, jabbing the air with a bony finger. “I’m leaving. I’m for too busy for the nonsense. Bullshit, that’s what this is, no more than a way for the medical community to line their pockets at my expense.”

  Derrick stumbled beside him, trying to keep up with the old man. “Sir, wait—”

  “Let’s go, Derrick. And don’t you ever call an ambulance for me again. Stroke, my ass. It was heartburn.” Roper stalked through the hall. “Where the hell is Jimmy Don? I’ve been calling him all day.”

  “I, I don’t know, sir.” When Roper stopped at the door, Derrick took the old man’s arm to offer support, but Roper jerked away.

  “Don’t insult me. I can walk by myself. Where’s your car?”

  “Parked right outside, sir.”

  “Give me your keys,” Roper snapped. “I’ll drive.”

  Derrick raced ahead to open the door for him.

  The nurse that Roper had been berating shook her head. “He shouldn’t be driving with those meds in him.”

  Another nurse snapped her head up. “I’ll call the police.”

  Verena watched Derrick and Roper go, relieved that she was through with the despicable pair. She didn’t know how she and her family would survive, but some things weren’t worth the emotional aggravation. What did Mia always say to her?

  Only one life to live, dear.

  Verena threaded her hand through the crook in Lance’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  24

  “Where are the twins?” Lance asked as he steered his convertible sports car out of the hospital parking lot. They’d waited until Derrick and Roper had left before they departed. Lance had the top down, and the summer evening air was mild.

  “Anika and Bella are spending the night at a friend’s house,” Verena said. She ran her hands over her face, aware that she looked tired and haggard. “They visited the hospital earlier. They’ve been worried about Mia, so it’s good for them to be with friends right now.”

  “Poor kids, this is a lot for them, too. Let me know if I can help you with them. They’re great girls. I can always make dinner and stay with them if you need to be at the hospital late.”

  How sweet of him, she thought. “It’s more like refereeing sometimes.”

  Lance laughed, shaking his head. “My two brothers and I used to fight, too.” He turned into a gas station and eased to a stop. “Hold that thought,” he said, touching her arm. “I need to fill up.”

  A surge of electricity shot through her at his casual touch. She enjoyed Lance’s company; he lifted her spirits and made her laugh. Most of all, he made her feel appreciated and cared for. In comparing the two men, she wished now she’d never become involved with Derrick; he’d been a disaster in every way imaginable.

  She rested her head against the headrest. She was becoming increasingly worried about their fin
ancial future.

  What will I do?

  Everything had happened at once: the loss of the company, the breakup with Derrick, Mia’s heart attack. And now she had to find or create work—fast. She’d hardly slept in days. She wished she could catch her breath, just for a while.

  After he filled the gas tank, Lance swung back into the car, and then pulled out of the gas station. As they wound through the dark, quiet streets toward the hotel, flashing emergency lights winked ahead of them. Police cars had blocked off part of the street where an automobile accident had occurred.

  Verena snapped upright in her seat, instantly alarmed. “Oh, no, those poor people.”

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to go past it.” Traffic had snaked to crawl with one lane open.

  “I hate to see accidents,” Verena said, biting a knuckle. Thoughts of her parents’ accident reeled back in her mind. Out of habit, she sent up a silent prayer.

  “I understand.” Lance touched her shoulder, empathizing with her. “Seems pretty bad. Looks like they smashed into the side of that building. Wonder how that happened?”

  They rolled nearer and Verena turned away, but not before she saw two sheets covering bodies. Dead bodies. It upset her to witness such a horrifying event. She knew how it felt. Who were they? Did they have children waiting for them at home?

  Lance squinted ahead. “There’s a news crew.”

  Red lights flashed in Verena’s eyes as a news reporter took her place in front of a mangled car and held up a microphone. She couldn’t help herself; she peered closer. Verena recognized the reporter, who was a frequent guest at the salon.

  She stared past the flashing lights. That car. Verena gasped. “I think that’s Derrick’s Mercedes.”

  The reporter began speaking, and with the convertible top down Lance and Verena could hear her clearly.

  “Three, two, one… Hello, I’m Caroline Wilson reporting from Beverly Hills, and I’m on the scene of a one-car accident involving the world’s wealthiest venture capitalist, Thomas Roper, who died just minutes ago. His partner, Derrick Logan, was a passenger in the car, and also died at the scene.”

  Derrick, dead? A cold wave of reality washed over her. Roper had insisted on driving. Despite her anger at Derrick, her eyes misted. What a dreadful way to die.

  Another car screeched to a halt and she saw Greta Hicks of Fashion Daily News race to the crime scene in hysterics. “Let me through,” she screamed. “Derrick Logan is my boyfriend.”

  Verena stared transfixed, trying to look away but unable to break her gaze. An hour ago, I nearly killed Roper. Had she succeeded, Caroline Wilson would be reporting a far different story.

  She watched Greta race to the scene. Evidently Derrick had never stopped dating Greta. He’d lied to her. Why? Greta must have been the woman he called babe. Verena blinked. There was a time when that would have upset her, but now she was numb to such a trivial emotion as jealousy. She felt sorry for Greta. She blinked again, tearing her eyes from the grisly scene.

  “What goes around, comes around.” Lance shook his head as they passed the scene.

  “My father used to say that. But never has it happened so quickly.” Verena trembled, shaken at what she’d witnessed. Karma. That’s what Mia called it. She wiped her eyes. Roper’s evil deeds had turned on him.

  Lance grew quiet as they drove on. Presently he said, “I know I offered to take you out for dinner, but if you’re too tired, or upset, I’ll take you to your home and cook for you.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “I could pick you up in the morning and take you back to the hospital for your car.”

  His amber eyes harnessed the golden glow of the streetlights and reflected their warmth. “Thanks,” she said. “But if you don’t mind, I’d rather not be alone tonight.”

  When they reached the Beverly Hills Hotel, Lance drove around to the rear entry to park. They wound through the hotel to the kitchen, and he led her into his office, which was located off the kitchen. “I have to check on the event in the ballroom, but you can wait here, if you’d like.”

  Reaching behind his desk, he withdrew a bottle of wine. He uncorked the cabernet sauvignon and poured a glass for her. “Looks like you could use this.” Then he went to the kitchen, returning with a small loaf of sliced rosemary bread, olive oil, and shaved parmesan cheese. “I don’t want you to starve while I’m gone.”

  Unsettled by the accident, Verena found it hard to eat at first. She sipped the wine in an effort to calm her nerves. Though the red flags had been waving during her relationship with Derrick, it hadn’t been long since she’d discovered who he really was. Had he ever been genuine with me? Or was their relationship just a ploy to further his career and line his pockets?

  After what Scarlett had told her, and seeing Greta tonight, the real picture came into focus. Derrick had never been honest with her. It’s over; it was over a long time ago. She shook her head. I can’t think about him now.

  By the time Lance returned, her appetite had returned a little, and she’d eaten a couple of slices of bread with olive oil and cheese.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, leaning his hands on the table.

  “I am, thanks.” She smiled up at him. Just being around him soothed her spirits. She should have listened to her heart earlier, and decided she would now.

  His eyes danced as if he had a secret. “Everything is running smoothly,” he said. “The hotel isn’t full; would you like to stay here tonight? You could relax and have a swim—with me as your lifeguard, of course. No more repeat performances of that stunt you pulled at the pool in Paris.”

  “I don’t know….” She hesitated, although she had to admit the idea sounded wonderful.

  Lance wasn’t giving up. “Or you could have a massage, and an exquisite dinner. I’ll be a gentleman, I swear.”

  “Dinner sounds good.” Her face warmed at the thought of spending the night with him. Although her initial inclination had been to decline his offer, she remembered what Mia always said. You only go around once. “On second thought,” she said. “I’d like to stay here.”

  A grin lit his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. “I’d hoped so. A bungalow is ours for the night. I also called the hospital and told them that if they can’t reach your mobile phone, to call you here at the hotel.” He lifted a clean shirt and a pair of pants from the back of his door.

  Verena suppressed a smile. He’s thought of everything. She looked down at her yoga pants and tank top, soiled from the day’s wear. Almost everything.

  Lance seemed to read her mind. “There are shops downstairs where you can pick up a change of clothing, and anything else you might need.”

  She smoothed her hand along his muscular forearm. “Come with me?”

  Lance covered her hand with his. “I’m all yours. And it’s my treat—you’ve had a rough time.”

  She stared at him as if seeing him in a new light. He’d done so many thoughtful things for her and Mia today.

  As they walked, Lance pointed out points of interest around the historic hotel. They walked past the old fountain shop and Verena couldn’t help but smile as she admired the whimsical wallpaper with its pattern of green tropical leaves—a vintage throwback to the hotel’s early days.

  Lance said hello to an older man they passed in the hall. They spoke for a moment, and then Lance slapped him on the back with a hearty farewell. “That’s Svend Petersen, he’s been the poolside ambassador for decades,” he told her. “He’s taken care of all sorts of famous people here, and has more than a few stories about Elizabeth Taylor, Marilyn Monroe, and Princess Grace—even the Beatles. The hotel opened in 1912, so it’s seen several waves of celebrities and local residents over the years.”

  Verena liked watching how Lance interacted with people. His easy going style was light years from the way Derrick had dealt with others. Why had she wasted her time on Derrick?

  Derrick. God rest his troubled soul.

  She stopped by a stai
rway and kissed Lance lightly on the lips.

  “What’s that for?” he asked, surprise registering on his face.

  She kissed him again. “For preparing dinner for Mia. For whisking me away when I desperately needed it. For tonight.” She ran a finger down his chest, savoring their time together, however limited it might be. She’d have to return to reality tomorrow. The reality of Mia’s recuperation, the reinvention of her career—whatever that might be—and too many bills to pay. But for tonight, she needed his touch.

  Soon she found a boutique that appealed to her, and Lance helped her choose two outfits and a swimsuit, as well as matching sandals. While he browsed for swimwear, she slipped a sexy silk negligee she saw on sale into the bag. The saleswoman winked at her.

  After they left the shop, Lance guided Verena through the hotel’s manicured gardens, which overflowed with a riot of flowers, and past a rippling tiered fountain into the section where the pink stucco bungalows were located.

  “Here we are,” he said, opening a door. He scooped her up in his arms and stepped inside.

  Verena was caught by surprise, but she loved his spontaneity. She felt light in his muscular arms. She gazed at him through her lashes. The last few days had been a nightmare. All she wanted was to relax, have a good meal, and get a good night’s sleep. And feel these incredible arms around me.

  She drew closer to him, her eyes half-lidded, her lips parted. The moment he touched her lips with his own was magic, and all the delights of Paris rushed back to her. This is the man I want.

  “I really needed this break.” She kissed him again. And I need to laugh with a handsome chef, she decided, adding to her list.

  He put her down gently. “Hungry?”

  “Starving, but I’d like to take a bath first.” She needed to wash off the vile scents of Thomas Roper, Derrick Logan, and death.

  Verena turned around and caught her breath, delighted at the spacious, sumptuous interior. A gleaming marble foyer stretched before them. A fireplace graced the sitting area, and a chandelier cast a soft, sparkling glow throughout the room. A kitchen and dining area was off to one side, and the bedroom was in the rear.