by J. L. Berg
A vision of myself behind prison bars flashed before my eyes and I inwardly cringed, fearing my fate had already been sealed along with Trent’s. One could only carry out this type of business for so long before everything crumbled down.
But Trent thought he was smarter, better, and more conniving than so many others that had failed before him.
I shook my head as I made my way down the stairs. I wasn’t so sure.
There was always someone smarter and better than you—and they usually carried a badge.
Grabbing the two bouquets of roses I’d picked out earlier that morning, I slid my wallet into my back pocket and opened the front door, greeting the driver who was patiently waiting outside.
“Good morning, Mr. Kincaid,” he answered. “Lovely morning for a drive.”
“Yes,” I agreed, feeling slightly less enthusiastic, but I did agree with him about the weather.
It was beautiful. The morning fog had lifted, leaving crystal blue skies and surprisingly warm temperatures for so late in the year.
A perfect day for a wedding.
I’d been trying so hard not to think of it, but it had been on my mind all week—like an infection, growing stronger as my willpower grew weaker by the second.
Was she getting married today? Had she taken my advice?
I don’t know how many times I’d picked up my phone, so tempted to call her and hear the words from her soft pink lips.
But it didn’t matter.
We were over. She needed to move on, whether it was with Ryan or not. I was not an option—I couldn’t be, and knowing whether or not she walked down that aisle and pledged her life to another man today wouldn’t change that. It was the reason I’d deleted every e-mail, declined each phone call, and avoided Brick at every turn.
I know I’d find out what she’d decided eventually, but for now, not knowing was what kept me moving forward. Either way, whether she married today or not, I knew it would hurt like a bitch and I just didn’t think I could handle any more of that right now.
Ignorance was my bliss and for now, I’d drown in it.
The drive to Magnolia’s passed in a blur, and soon the driver pulled up to her familiar apartment building. When he politely offered to collect her, I declined, knowing she’d appreciate the gesture of my going up myself.
Time to put my game face on and put my past where it belonged—behind me.
If only it were so easy.
I quickly adjusted my tie in the elevator, and checked my silver cufflinks, wanting everything to be in order when I knocked on her door. Magnolia had been raised in high society, and appreciated a man with good taste. She wasn’t stuck up like most women with money, but she did gravitate toward the finer things in life.
My outward appearance was a nod to that notion, and I was hoping she’d notice.
I needed all the help I could get. I hadn’t exactly been an exemplary guy so far, bailing on dates, forgetting to call. I knew she thought she understood, blaming it all on my past issues. But eventually, even that excuse would be cumbersome. I needed to keep her hooked on me.
For now, at least.
It didn’t take more than two seconds before she appeared at the door, dressed in a gorgeous lace dress and matching mile-high shoes. Her hair was curled and pulled to the side, showing off the massive diamonds that always adorned her ears.
Not a hair out of place or a detail overlooked—that was Magnolia. Always polished and poised, just like she’d been raised to be. But the more I got to know her, the more intrigued I was to meet these elusive parents of hers. Magnolia, the name given to her by her mother, a former florist, carried herself in all the ways a daughter of a prominent wealthy family should. But it was what she lacked that made me curious to know more.
Over the last few months, I’d met my fair share of people who had waltzed through the doors of our company. Most had money and acted like it, demanding this and that and acting as if the rest of us were simply around to do their bidding.
Magnolia was different, and I had a feeling it was due to a different type of upbringing by eclectic parents who always managed to shy away from media attention despite her father’s founding position at one of the country’s most lucrative companies.
“You look beautiful,” I said, taking a quick glance as I leaned in to kiss her cheek.
“You don’t look half bad yourself,” she replied, her eyes roaming down the length of my body in slow appreciation. Her gaze left me feeling uncomfortable—exposed. I was used to women looking at me, a sideways glance or a blatant stare as I walked by. But this was personal and intimate, and reminded me of just what I was risking. What I was leaving behind.
“You ready?” I asked, taking her hand in an attempt to hurry her along.
“Yes, let me just grab my clutch.”
I had no idea what exactly a clutch was, but a few moments later she reappeared at the door carrying a small purse-looking thing covered in lace and delicate jewels. She tucked it safely under her arm and I waited patiently as she locked the door before we headed for the elevator.
“Is this a new suit?” she asked, her hands sweeping over the sleek, buttery fabric of the lapel.
“Yes,” I smiled.
“Trying to impress someone?” Her face broke out into a knowing grin.
“Maybe.”
“Good,” she answered, leaning in for a kiss, but the elevator dinged, diverting our attention to the doors that slid open to the lobby. Several people stood waiting, and we quickly exited.
I’d only seen Magnolia a few times since that night in her apartment when I’d told her about my past and held her in my arms, feeling her comfort seep into my bones like warm mist. I’d left feeling at odds with myself.
So much so, I hadn’t touched her since.
I knew she was growing impatient, even if she said the opposite. Knowing how women worked, she was probably starting to worry whether it was something she’d done or said.
Fuck, she’d probably even started to wonder if I was gay and had just forgotten, along with the rest of my memories.
If only it were that simple.
“Car service? Fancy,” she stated when we approached the shiny black sedan.
“I figured it would give us a chance to relax on the drive down.”
“Sounds great.”
I followed closely behind as we climbed into the backseat of the car. The driver gently closed the door behind us. The car was spacious and well-kept, offering bottled water and several snacks for the road. There was even a variety of booze if we chose, but considering the early hour, we both declined. Magnolia instead chose a bottled water as the car took off. Shortly after, the driver raised the privacy barrier to allow us to speak freely.
The short hour or so ride down to Half Moon Bay was beautiful, with scenic views of the coast and larger than life treelines. The closer we got to her childhood home, the happier she appeared.
“Tell me something about your life growing up,” I asked as the blue coastal water sped past.
“Hmm.” She grinned, tapping her finger against her lip.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m trying to decide what might be the least embarrassing story to tell you.”
“Embarrassing? Now I’m intrigued.”
“I wasn’t always so sophisticated,” she laughed, making a show at sitting higher in her seat, and folding her hands neatly in her lap.
“No?” I played along.
“Oh no. This is a result of many long years of cotillion and manners classes. Before that, I was all legs and limbs, a tree-climbing, t-shirt-wearing tomboy.”
I tried to picture the blonde bombshell in front of me covered in dirt and grim, sky high, dangling from a tree limb.
“I’m having a hard time imagining you as a tomboy,” I said, grinning.
“What? You don’t think I can climb a tree?”
“I’m not doubting your skills—just your motivation to do so. You might break
a nail,” I laughed.
“Hey!” She joined in my laughter, playfully slapping my arm. “I was a kid, and I was the best tree climber around. I could also make a mean dirt pie. Drove my mom crazy.”
“Hence the reason for the finishing school?” I surmised.
“That was more peer pressure, actually. When my parents were first married, my dad was just starting his company. It hadn’t taken off to the level it is now. Their lives seemed to change overnight. They went from working class to one the wealthiest percentages in the country, in what seemed like a matter of minutes. It was a huge adjustment, and sometimes I think it still is. My parents didn’t grow up with much, and being surrounded by those that had was daunting. Certain things are expected, and everyone has an opinion on how you raise a child.”
“So a tomboy wasn’t ideal for the society pages in the eyes of the neighbors?” I guessed.
“No,” she replied. “So, my parents relented and raised a proper young lady everyone expected.”
“Do you miss the trees?” I asked, watching her eyes wander toward the ocean.
“Sometimes. Enough that when I have children of my own, I know I’ll never hinder them from what and who they want to be.”
“Something tells me that even though they took you out of the trees, that feisty tomboy attitude still lives on.”
She gave me a sultry wink. “You might be right.”
* * *
Half Moon Bay was a short car ride from San Francisco yet it felt worlds apart.
Long gone were the hustle and bustle of the busy city life, replaced by the laid-back existence that took place by the bay. People were different here. Relaxed and chill. You felt it immediately when you entered the welcoming town, full of eclectic shops and dog-friendly restaurants. People walked everywhere, rode their bikes…talked to each other.
I didn’t even know the name of my own neighbors.
As we continued through the town, I noticed the houses—the different shapes and architecture. Not one of them was cookie-cutter or built to resemble the one next to it. Each house stood on its own, from the color of the paint down to the elaborate gardens. I swore I even saw a house that was shaped like a boat.
A freaking boat. This town was awesome.
“It’s kind of strange, isn’t it?” Magnolia said as we passed through the remainder of the main part of town toward her parents’ house.
“What?”
“Half Moon?” she replied. “I always thought it was kind of a silly place to grow up.”
“Really, why?”
“It’s just so different. I feel much more at home in the city. It’s not nearly as friendly, but I do have a Starbucks and I can order a pizza at virtually any time of the day or night.”
I gave her a convincing smile, hoping she’d buy it. She did, turning to watch the water slowly reveal itself through the trees.
There were only two things holding me to the city. The love I had for my house, mostly because of the memories it held, and…Everly.
Without her, I was just living in an empty house on the edge of a city that felt completely wrong.
Would everything always circle back around to her, or would my life eventually weave its own path that led away from Everly?
Did I want it to?
Maybe I should just move and make it easier. I could buy a funky house here and never be seen or heard from again. The image of Trent laughing in my face as I told him my grand plan came to mind, dashing the idea instantly. I’d never be able to leave the city. Everly and I would be forever tied together.
And I’d forever be in hell.
“We’re here!” Magnolia announced as the car came to a stop in front of a large gilded gate. Magnolia gave the access code to the driver and after a short pause we were on our way again as the gate pulled back and we drove through. Magnolia’s parents lived in a gated community of Half Moon Bay. I’m fairly certain with her father’s income, they probably could have bought the entire town. Driving in, everything seemed understated to me, for a man of his means.
The houses were massive and definitely screamed money, however. Most were situated next to a pristine golf course that overlooked the gorgeous Pacific coastline. It was all breathtaking. But, again…I had expected more. Twice, maybe three times more.
Mr. Yorke appeared to be a man who did not flaunt his wealth. Or at least not overly so.
If this had been Trent and he’d been the founding member of a Fortune 500 company, there would have been a jewel-encrusted bridge to carry guests over to the house, which would have probably been covered in gold. Trent loved his money, and hated the fact that he couldn’t show everyone just how much he had. But that’s what happens when you play dirty.
And Trent was rolling in shit.
“There it is!” Magnolia said with exuberance, pointing to the grand house just up ahead. Unlike the rest of the town, this gated community resembled many of the other parts of California I’d visited. The houses were very similar to each other in terms of décor and landscaping. They varied slightly in size and model, but after just driving through town, this area was vastly different.
“Is this where you grew up?” I asked, noticing how new everything looked.
“No,” she replied as the car came to a stop. “We lived closer to town. My parents bought this house after I moved to the city. My dad loves to golf and after years of begging, my mother finally gave in and let him move on to a golf course. He’s never been happier.”
“So, these are not the infamous trees I’ve heard so much about?” I asked, looking up at the small palm trees as we got out of the car. They were no bigger than me and had probably been planted in the last few years.
“Nope. Those tiny things wouldn’t hold me even as a girl. I was a wild child,” She gave me a flirtatious smile. “Come on, let’s go inside.”
I thanked the driver and told him I’d let him know when we needed to be picked up before we began our walk up the driveway. We were no more than halfway there before we were attacked by a barking, licking, crazy dog.
Magnolia laughed as I tried to save my suit, finally giving up to pet the mutt.
“This is Mango,” she said, rubbing the ears of the large golden retriever. The dog groaned happily as her tongue flopped out to the side.
“She’s cute,” I added.
“Thanks. We rescued her a few years ago, while I was still in college. I’ve always wanted to take her with me to the city, but I know it wouldn’t be fair to have her locked up in that small apartment. So she stays here with my parents. But she’ll always be mine, won’t you, Mango?” Her voice changed, becoming squeaky and high, making the dog’s tail wag in excitement.
“Looks like she got to you first,” a female voice called out. We both looked up to see an older version of Magnolia walking toward us. Dressed in casual black pants and a soft pink sweater and pearls, Mrs. Yorke smiled the instant she saw her daughter, running to meet her open arms.
“I missed you, Peanut,” she said happily.
“I missed you, too, Mom.”
“You keep forgetting you’re just an hour away,” Mrs. Yoke commented.
“You keep forgetting how busy I am!” Magnolia laughed, giving her mom a soft tap on the shoulder.
“I know, I know. So grown up and sophisticated now. Even bringing boys home.”
Her eyes met mine with a tiny wink, making me smile.
“Oh my gosh, Mom. He is far from a boy. And please do not embarrass me. Already.”
“I’ll stop trying if you introduce me to your man friend,” she promised, emphasizing the word “man” with a smirk.
I like her already.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet August Kincaid. August, this is my mother, Lisa Yorke.”
I stepped forward, offering my hand. She took it and we shook. “So nice to meet you, Mrs. Yorke. Magnolia always speaks very highly of her parents.”
“Thank you, August—you can call me Lisa. It’s very nice to meet yo
u finally. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
I silently groaned. God only knew what that could mean.
“Let’s all go inside and see if we can find that father of yours,” she suggested with a warm smile. She turned as Magnolia and I followed, the exuberant dog chasing behind.
The house was decorated just as I’d expected it to be. Warm and inviting, with family touches everywhere. Baby photos of Magnolia adorned the walls, vacation mementos and even a few wedding pictures from years gone by. It filled the large space, making it feel cozy and inviting, rather than the drafty void I came home to everyday.
“It’s my long-lost daughter!” Mr. Yorke announced, coming around the corner into the living room, his arms held wide for his daughter. They embraced for a long time and he kissed her head, pulling back to wrap her under his arm.
“Now, who is your friend, Peanut?” he asked, giving me a gentle smile.
“This is August. August, this is my father, Paul.”
More handshaking commenced, before he offered us all a seat and a drink. Magnolia came and sat next to me while Lisa took a cozy spot next to her husband.
We spent the next half hour or so making the usual small talk while we nursed glasses of vintage wine. Paul asked me what I did for a living, although I suspect he already knew. I think he just wanted to get a feeling for the man who was dating his daughter, and so I complied, going through the motions of what I did with Trent. I knew Trent would want me to push more, advertise our strengths as a team and really sell our company, but I knew if this was going to work, it had to be done slowly.
Paul Yorke was a complex man. He was a multibillionaire who lived like someone with a fraction of his income, and yet he sent his daughter to manners classes and cotillion so she could compete with others in society. If there was one thing I learned quickly from the short time I spent with Magnolia’s father, it was that he was smart. Damn smart.
I had my work cut out for me if I was ever going to broker a deal with him, and a large part of me hoped he turned me down flat. He was kind and loved the hell out of his family.
No part of me wanted to take advantage of this man, or his daughter.