by J. L. White
As I drive up the hill and the resort comes into view, I have a feeling it’s going to live up to its reputation. It’s a superb example of California architecture, with beautiful brick and iron work on its grand central building, which looks about ten stories high or so. Flanking either side of the main building, there are two shorter wings that are maybe six or seven stories high and stretch back at forty-five degree angles. The circular drive sweeps under a gorgeous stone portico, and curves around a crystalline pond that’s adorned with flowers and home to the resort’s famous pair of swans. The massive grounds are impeccably landscaped. Beyond that is a sweeping view of the ocean.
Forgoing the valet service, I opt for self-parking and make my way to the building and its grand entrance. As I approach the bay of glass and wood doors, a doorman in a smart navy jacket opens the door for me. I smile at him and nod my thanks, grateful I thought to dress up a bit.
I’m in a slender, sleeveless black dress with a form-fitting bodice and a skirt that flares gently at my thighs and stops just above my knees. A soft poppy-colored, see-through shrug gives it a pop of color, which is echoed in my strappy heels. I took the time to style my hair with large, soft curls and put on just a touch of makeup. I don’t own any expensive jewelry—I’ve never really wanted any—but am wearing a short necklace and delicate bracelet that tie the whole outfit together.
Being in a place of such graceful luxury only seems to be amplifying how I feel in these clothes. I feel like a queen. There are plenty of guests in casual shorts and shirts, and a few in swimsuits and cover-ups who are most likely on their way to the beach. But others are dressed up like me.
The lobby floor is all marble and features a gorgeous, intricate tile medallion in the middle, which is perfectly centered beneath the slightly domed ceiling two stories above me. The ceiling is trimmed with ornately carved wood support pieces and is breathtaking.
Everywhere I look, I see the kind of attention to detail that lends to the luxurious feel of the place: beautiful sconce work, original art in massive gilded frames, intricately carved side tables with expensive-looking porcelain vases overflowing with fresh flowers.
The front desk is made of walnut and adorned with a few sculpted lamps that give a gentle ambiance. Ditto the concierge desk and bell hop stand. On the other side of the registration desk, the lobby lets out to a large, carpeted area dotted with exquisite seating areas and a gleaming black grand piano. God, forget the beach. I could just hang out here all day.
Passing through the lobby, I come to a broad interior hallway—adorned with paintings and stone statues in little nooks—that goes to the right and left. There’s a long bank of floor-to-ceiling windows that give a wide view of the beautiful rear grounds, where I see one of the resort’s extravagant pools and an outdoor dining area.
A simple but elegant-looking sign indicates which way to go for the fitness center, spa, conference rooms, and various restaurants, among other things.
I turn to the right, wondering if I was supposed to meet Abigail in the resort’s lobby or at the restaurant itself. In a few moments, I have my answer. The wide, open entrance to The Wadsworth Room is directly ahead of me and Abigail is waiting out front. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and cream shell top, holding her purse in front of her, and breaks out into a smile when she sees me.
“Have you been waiting long?” I ask as I give her a hug.
“No, I just got here a couple minutes ago,” she says, leading us to the hostess stand, where a finely-dressed young woman waits for us with a friendly smile. “I was—” Abigail starts to say, but something interrupts us.
“Whitney?” It’s coming from some distance behind me, but I heard the strong call of my voice clear enough to know exactly who it is the second I hear it. My heart leaps into my throat.
“Connor?” I say, spinning and scanning the broad hall behind me.
I knew his voice, but I almost didn’t recognize him. He’s in a silk button-down shirt—the first button undone—and a fine suit coat, and the scruffy beard is nowhere to be seen. But I know those intense blue eyes and my jaw drops in surprise as he hurries toward me. The blood is sprinting through my veins.
“Oh my god,” I say, putting my hand on Abigail’s arm to indicate she should wait for me, and heading in his direction. His eyes scan me quickly, taking me in, his face a mix of shock and happiness. Same as I’m feeling.
The closer I get to him, the more I can’t believe it. He’s here. Oh my god, Connor is right here in front of me.
“How—?” he says, smiling and holding his arms out. I practically skip the last few steps to him and then I’m in Connor’s arms and he’s lifting me just slightly off my feet and something deep inside me is sighing and laughing and dancing.
“Holy shit,” I say and he laughs in my ear.
Oh my god, it feels so amazing to be in his arms again. God, I can hardly think.
He sets me down and I step back and look up at him, both of us grinning. “Are you staying here?” he asks as Abigail comes up, curious.
“No,” I say, gesturing to her. “We’re here for lunch.”
“Ah,” he says, glancing at the restaurant behind us.
“This is Abigail,” I say. “Nadim’s mom.”
“Oh right,” he says, taking her hand and shaking it.
“And this is Connor.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “I brought Whitney for the fish tacos.”
“Ah, yes. Excellent call. If you’re going with seafood, you may want to try the mango shrimp, as well. The chef just added it to the summer menu and it’s fantastic.” He glances down the hall toward the lobby and I follow his gaze, but my overloaded brain feels like it’s trying to work something out.
Coming down the hallway in the opposite side of the lobby, are two people I recognize as Connor’s brother and sister. The brother, Rayce, is also in a suit, like Connor. His sister Lizzy is in a smart red blazer and skirt.
Wait a minute.
“Hang on,” Connor says, holding up a finger to me and taking a step in their direction. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Uh,” I say as he hurries away. Uhhhh.... I think, rather coherently.
“I didn’t know you knew Connor Rivers,” Abigail says as we watch Connor go up to his siblings and say something.
“Holy shit,” I say, which I totally did not mean to say out loud in front of her, because she’s not a woman who’s fond of swearing, but holy shit.
Rivers? As in the Rivers Paradise Resort?
I bite my lip to keep from saying holy shit again.
Connor starts heading back and his siblings linger, apparently waiting for him. His sister is watching us curiously, but his brother... well, frankly, his brother is checking his watch, looking pretty irritated.
Connor comes back up to us and I gawk at him. “Some hotel!”
He laughs and shrugs. “Sorry. Here.” He pulls his phone out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to me. Damn, look at you looking all professional, I want to say. “Put your number in for me. I’ve got a meeting I can’t miss but I’ll call you when I get out.”
I put my number in with slightly shaking fingers. I still can’t believe he’s here. And I can’t believe this is the freaking hotel. Geez!
I give him back his phone and we take each other in. My heart’s fluttering like mad.
“It’s good to see you, Whitney,” he finally says, putting his hand briefly on my arm. God, that only makes things worse. Okay, deep breath.
“You too.”
“It was nice to meet you,” he says to Abigail and then just like that, he leaves to rejoin his siblings and is gone.
I exhale deeply, staring at the space he just vacated. Holy hell.
“How do you know Connor Rivers?” she asks.
“Um,” I say, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear and willing my heart to settle down. “We met on the Camino del Santiago last year.”
“Oh wow,” she says, as we turn ba
ck toward the restaurant. “Small world.”
“Uh huh,” I say as the hostess leads into a space that’s the perfect blend of elegance and casual, with brick accents and colorful blown glass light fixtures. What’s he doing here? Is he back? Did the wild little wanderer decide to finally settle down? Because if he did...
“They’re such a nice family,” she says as we take our seats at a small table along the back wall. The hostess gives us our menus and departs.
“Do you know them too?”
“Oh no. I know of them. Most people around here do. They just seem really nice though. Such a shame about the parents,” she says, opening her menu.
“Why? What do you mean?”
She glances up at me, a serious expression on her face. “You don’t know?’
“Know what?”
She puts the menu down and leans in. “They passed away last year.”
My hand flies to my mouth.
“Drowned in a boating accident.”
“Oh my god.”
She nods soberly and returns to her menu. “Yes. It was such a pity. Those poor kids.”
I return to my menu too, but I’m not really seeing it. Oh, God. Poor Connor. My heart aches as I start to imagine what he’s been going through. What they’ve all been going through. I feel like crying and blink back the tears that are wanting to build, trying to keep my emotions under control.
“Oh dear,” Abigail says gently. “I forget what a tender heart you have.”
“No, I’m okay,” I say, slightly embarrassed and not wanting her to make a fuss. “I cry at Kleenex commercials.” That’s not exactly true, tender heart notwithstanding, but she smiles at my explanation and goes back to the menu.
My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my purse, my mind reeling. It’s a text from a number I don’t recognize. Now you have my number, the text says. How long are you in town?
Till Sunday, I text back, but what I want to say is, ‘God, Connor, are you okay?’
Good, he replies. I’ll call you soon. That’s the last I hear for the rest of lunch. I try to have a nice visit with Abigail but I’m having a hard time listening as well as I should. All I can think about is Connor.
Chapter 13
Connor
The day my parents died, I was descending Mount Everest and out of cell phone range. It would be three more days before my phone picked up a signal, and I heard it ring. When I answered, Lizzy’s frantic voice said, “Oh my god, Connor!” It was the sound of painful relief and agony all mixed into one. I’d never, ever heard her voice sound like that before, and it sent me into an immediate panic.
“Lizzy? What’s wrong?”
But the sound of her hysterical crying faded, like she was pulling the phone away.
“Lizzy? Lizzy!”
“Connor?” It was Rayce. He’d taken the phone from her. His voice was calm, but grim.
Oh my god, it’s Corrine. That’s what I thought. The most logical thing. The worst thing I could possibly think of.
It was far, far worse.
“Corrine?” I asked.
“No. It’s Mom and Dad.” His tone of voice alone told me it was something truly horrible. Confusion blurred with cold dread. Mom and Dad? There couldn’t be anything wrong with Mom and Dad. They were invincible. Truly.
Except they weren’t. As I stood outside of base camp at the foot of Mount Everest, the wind whipped around me and rustled against my insulated jacket, and Rayce told me Dad had taken Mom out sailing three days ago. Their boat capsized and their bodies were found later that night. Three days ago, I’d been on top of the world. I was literally on top of the world the very day my parents were dying. I couldn’t process it. It couldn’t be.
“I’m sorry, Connor.”
No. It couldn’t be. Except my brother would never lie to me. Not about this. The wind whipped through again, my jacket rustling violently.
“Connor?”
“I’m here.”
“Where are you?”
I should be home. “Uh... base camp,” I answered.
“What?”
I hadn’t told my siblings I was climbing Mt. Everest. Dangerous stuff makes Lizzy nervous, and we had a deal that I wouldn’t tell her about things like that until after they were over. It’s not common for me to go several weeks without calling, but because of the various things I do it’s not exactly unusual either. The radio silence I needed while I climbed Everest wouldn’t be enough to cause her concern. Normally.
I need to be home. I need to be home right now. “I’m in base camp,” I said again. “Mount Everest.”
“Jesus.” He paused then said, “Is that Tibet or Nepal?”
“I’m on the Tibet side.”
“All right, hang on. I’m going to call Carl Maddox. He said he’d help with transportation if we needed it, once we tracked you down.”
“Okay,” I said, but my brain was still thick. I couldn’t think much of anything. I sank to the ground, right where I’d been standing, and stayed there while my brother made arrangements with Carl. Carl owns Maddox International, has a ridiculous amount of money and resources, and he and his family are old family friends. I don’t know just how many private jets and planes the Maddoxes own, but they have offices and various headquarters all over the globe, with planes to go with them. So, a lot.
When Rayce came back on the line, he said, “Can you get a car to Shigatse? There’s supposed to be a small airport there.”
I flew into Lhasa City, which is farther away, but trusted him. I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. “Yes.”
“Okay, Carl will have a shuttle plane meet you there. He’s still putting together the rest, but he’ll take care of it. You don’t need to worry about anything. We’ll get you here as soon as possible.”
I heard Lizzy crying in the background.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“It wasn’t your fault.” I’ve never heard my brother sound so old and tired.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I scared Lizzy.”
“She thought you were dead.” I pinched my eyes shut. I’m sorry. “She’ll be okay now. Let me know when you get there.”
I nodded. “I will.”
There was a moment of silence as we sat together on the phone. I didn’t want to hang up. I didn’t want to be alone here.
“We’re going to need you, Connor.”
“I know,” I said. “I’ll ship my boat back. I can’t arrange it now. I’ll have to do it later.”
“I’m sure Carl would be willing to help.”
“I’ll do it later,” I said again, unable to think about it any further.
“Okay,” Rayce said. “Are you all right? Can you make the call?”
“I can make the call.”
“Keep me posted.”
“I will. Tell Lizzy I love her. And Corrine. I love you, too.”
“Travel safely. Please.”
I’d said I could make the call, and eventually I did. But I must have sat there on the ground for many minutes, my brain in shock, before I was able to think through all the steps, which suddenly felt very complicated: look up the number, make the call, tell them where I am, get my things together.
The next twenty-six hours were the longest of my life. I hired a car that drove me the eight hours to Shigatse, where there was indeed a very small airport. There I was greeted by a grim-faced Maddox employee in a suit, who simply nodded at me and said, “Mr. Rivers.” He led me to the plane—just a little Learjet—and we flew to Lhasa City. Aside from the employee and the pilots—I never even learned their names—I was the only one on the plane. From there, I was once again the lone passenger on a Falcon jet that flew almost direct to the airport in Swan Pointe, landing somewhere a couple times—I don’t remember where—to refuel. The employees on board tended to me, expressing their condolences and bringing food and drink. I let them, but I ate and drank little and mostly just stared out the window in numb disbelief.
&
nbsp; When I de-boarded the plane, Lizzy and Rayce were there waiting for me. Lizzy ran into my arms and damn near knocked me over and we clung to each other like our lives depended on it. She cried on my shoulder and I may have shed some tears on hers too. Rayce didn’t cry or speak, but he put his arm around Lizzy and rested his hand comfortingly on my head.
The patriarch already, I’d thought. I remember that very clearly.
I really couldn’t tell you how long we stayed joined together like that.
Through it all, our parents were still dead.
The day before the funeral, my siblings and Corrine and I spent the entire day at the resort, going through Mom and Dad’s offices and trying to figure out what we needed to do to keep things running. We sorted through emails, reviewed their calendars, went through files. We dealt with open correspondence with various people, although by then most people knew what was going on and were patient with all the delays. We made endless lists of things to do.
It was a long day. It was the first day I felt a mantle settle like an anvil on my shoulders. It was the first day (but not the last) that I felt terrified by the fact that we didn’t yet know all the specifics we needed to know about the business, and might not be able to keep Mom and Dad’s dream from collapsing in on itself. It was the first day (also not the last) I felt damned determined to make sure that didn’t happen.
The first few months passed like a whirlwind. Truth be told, none of us were what Mom and Dad would’ve considered “fully trained.” Rayce was closest. He’d been working as the CFO, and his duties intersected with Mom and Dad’s most often. Lizzy was still “stair-stepping” up and working as the Director of Lodging—we’ve since hired another—and it’s my understanding that she did a good job of it. But she was still training with Mom to learn the other aspects of operations, which Mom handled herself, and there were a few remaining gaps.
Thanks to my good memory and lifelong drive to prove I could do anything my big brother could do—it began once I’d started walking, according to Mom, and hasn’t let up since—Dad had trained me on quite a bit on his side of things before I left home. But I wasn’t really thoroughly versed in all the details of the resort’s executive operations either and besides, I’d been gone four years.