Dear California (Martin Family Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  "He's asking me when I'm coming."

  "He saw it already? I thought you said he didn't even have an Insta."

  "He doesn't. Someone must have shown him."

  "Don't tell him anything yet," she said, hoping to follow through with the planned surprise.

  "I'm gonna respond," I said. "I won't tell him exactly what's going on, but I'm not leaving him hanging."

  "How's he gonna like having the whole thing watched by millions of people?" she asked.

  I shrugged, thinking about how even-keeled Cole was. "He'll be fine," I said.

  "Do you think he's gonna be happy to see you?" she asked. "What if you get there and he doesn't show?"

  I knew she was just teasing me, but I screwed up my face at her. "Thanks," I said sarcastically. "I already feel like I'm losing my mind."

  "Maybe that's what love feels like," she said.

  I smiled. "Maybe."

  I looked at my phone, trying to figure out what to reply.

  "Tell him he'll just have to wait for a clue," she said.

  "I got this," I said, without bothering to look up at her.

  Me: "I assume you saw my note. I don't know my exact travel plans, but I was thinking I'd come to Louisiana for a few days."

  I pressed send, and then I scrolled up in our text to the photos he sent me hours earlier. I was staring at them when he replied.

  Cole: "When? Now?"

  "Who's that?" Estela asked, hearing my phone. "Is that him again? Don't tell him too much, Livy."

  "I've got it under control," I assured my sister before typing.

  Me: "Is that okay?"

  Cole: "Are you kidding? I wish you were here already."

  Me: "I will be soon. I'll be in touch sometime tomorrow with travel plans. I'm sorry, but there might be cameras involved. Shouldn't be a big deal."

  Cole: "Whatever gets you here."

  I sent back a heart emoji before squealing like a little girl and tossing my phone onto the table.

  The tabloids figured out who Cole was as soon as I posted the note about going to Louisiana. They had access to the photos of us, and it didn’t take much digging to tie my father to Martin Outfitters. The connection was made, and speculation began as to how serious our fling was and how long it had been going on.

  I wasn’t famous enough for anyone to care for very long, but I didn't like scrutiny in any measure, so I always cringed to hear what people were saying. This was unfortunate, because now Tyson and I were traveling together, and he was relentless with telling me—that's how I knew about the tabloids making the connection in the first place. My sister liked hearing what was going on with fans and tabloids, so Tyson had grown accustomed to sharing that information with her. He got on our social media and looked at comments, giving her (and now me) the highlights. I told Tyson countless times that I didn't care to know what people were saying, but he had a hard time holding his tongue when he saw something he deemed worthy of sharing.

  He and I were staying at the Ritz-Carlton in Downtown New Orleans. During the time I spent with Cole, he had told me a story about eating in the courtyard at that hotel when he was a kid. He said he was so impressed by it that he remembered having the distinct feeling that he was the king of England—he said in his six-year-old mind, eating in that courtyard made him think he was the actual king. It was one of the many stories we told and laughed about that day. I was happy I had the story in my back pocket because it would be a way to clue him in on the meeting spot without anyone else knowing where we were.

  Our flight arrived in New Orleans at 2PM, and I posted a note that said, "Downtown New Orleans 7:00 tonight."

  Tyson had been taking and posting photos of our entire trip, so there were about eight photos posted since my last note, but nothing specific about where we were staying. I wrote this latest note on the same notebook paper and posted it as soon as we got into the backseat of the car to head to the hotel. I got a text from Cole within minutes.

  Cole: "Are you in my city?"

  I couldn't stop grinning as I responded. Tyson snapped photos of me in the backseat.

  Me: "Probably."

  Cole: "Where?"

  Me: "Did you see the note?"

  Cole: "The one about downtown at 7?"

  Me: "Yep."

  Cole: "Yes, but downtown is big. You have to be specific. Are you here now?"

  I smiled and shook my head as I read his text, and Tyson recorded everything.

  Me: "Probably."

  Cole: "I can be there in an hour."

  Me: "No. Wait till 7. I'll tell you where. There will be a camera."

  Cole: "You already said that. Are we gonna be on the news or something?"

  Me: "No. (smiley face) I can't wait."

  Cole: "Me neither."

  I sent back another smiley face and a heart emoji before letting my head crash onto the back of the seat.

  Of course, Tyson took more photos.

  "You're so beautiful when you're happy, Liv."

  "That's really sweet, Ty."

  "I'm serious," he said, looking at some of the photos he had just taken.

  He showed me one of them. The light from the sunroof was filtering into the backseat, and it fell on me just right. Tyson was a talented photographer, and he tastefully captured my excitement when texting Cole.

  "I didn't realize you weren't happy, but now that I see you like this, it's obvious. You're really beautiful."

  "Thank you," I said, staring at him sincerely. Tyson and I had spent countless hours together during our travels, and I would miss him.

  "Your sister hooked up someone to come to the hotel for your hair and makeup," he said, getting back to business.

  "She told me," I said. "Even when she's not here, she's telling me where to go and what to do."

  "No kidding," he said. "She had somebody bring dresses to the room already."

  "Dresses?" I asked incredulously.

  He shrugged. "She wanted it to be glamorous."

  "I'm definitely not wearing a dress," I said.

  Tyson smiled at me. "You might change your mind when you see them. Tels forwarded me a photo."

  He held out his phone for me to see the pictures, but I just shook my head, feeling more and more nervous by the second. I was already overwhelmed at the possibility of seeing Cole while wearing jeans, let alone an evening gown.

  "We were able to reserve a section of that courtyard so you guys can have a little space. It'd be a beautiful backdrop for some evening wear photos."

  "We just saw each other yesterday," I said. "You guys are making too big of a deal out of it. I'm not wearing a dress."

  Tyson shrugged. "I thought you said the clue had something to do with him being a king."

  "It does," I said, not seeing his point.

  He just stared at me like he thought this would make me get on board with making it more formal.

  I sighed. "I'll check them out, but I'm not making any promises," I said.

  "Yeah, I guess it'd sort of be weird if you do wear one of those dresses and your man shows up looking like he just went trompsing through the swamp or something."

  "Trompsing?" I asked, laughing at his choice of words.

  "Trompsing," Tyson said as if sticking by it.

  "He won't," I said. I didn't know or really care what Cole would be wearing—I just wanted to see him again.

  Tyson and I cut the conversation off there because I became enthralled with looking out of the window. We were getting into downtown New Orleans, and I enjoyed checking out the look and vibe of the city. I had an innate sensation that it was my town now even though I didn't have any solid plans to move there or even stay for any length of time. It was my first time to see it, so I took pleasure looking out the window.

  There was a privacy glass between the driver and us, but he lowered it, asking if we wanted to hear a few things about the city during the drive through downtown. I jumped at the chance to hear anything he wanted to tell, and he proceeded
to give us an extremely knowledgeable twenty-minute history lesson. We were so interested in hearing what he was saying, that he drove us all through the French Quarter and circled the block of our hotel several times before dropping us off. I didn't know this city had such a rich history of battles and pirates, and I felt like learning those facts added to the romance of it all.

  What made it even better was that our hotel looked like it was something right out of the past. The classic décor fit with the mood our driver's stories created, and I walked into it feeling like I could run into a pirate any second.

  "You're gonna wear one of those dresses after hearing all that," Tyson said, as we rode in the elevator to our room. "This place is suited perfectly for that kind of scene."

  "I'll try them on, but it'll have to hit me just the right way. I planned on wearing a little romper since it's so hot here."

  "They look comfortable," Tyson said. "Just keep an open mind about it."

  A stylist came over only minutes after we got to our room. She was doing us a favor by working on such short notice, and she was only able to clear a short window of her day. We had to get going right when we arrived. Her name was Michelle, and she not only did a good job, but our personalities also really clicked. She told me more about New Orleans, and we talked and laughed the whole time. Tyson got tons of pictures of us together as she helped me with my hair and makeup. She erred on the side of applying too little rather than too much, which I appreciated.

  I went with a little white shorts-set that was waiting in the room. It was more formal than anything I packed, but it wasn't sequins, so I thought it was a good compromise. Michelle was there for nearly two hours before she had to get back to her salon. She gave me a tight squeeze on her way out. "I'll try to come by tonight," I said as I hugged her.

  "You should," she said. "It's the real deal."

  Apparently, Michelle's dad played in one of the most popular Cajun bands in New Orleans, and they happened to have a gig that very night at a bowling alley of all places. We had talked about it quite a bit while she was doing my hair, and she said I should come by. I admitted that I wasn't exactly sure what Cajun music was, and she got to a YouTube video of her dad's band. I was intrigued by the idea of seeing it live, and I hoped it worked out where Cole could take me there.

  Tyson and I did a photo shoot in the French Quarter that afternoon. I filmed a short video of myself eating a beignet, which is basically a delicious little hole-less doughnut covered in powdered sugar. I made a mess with it, which was good for the video. Tyson wanted to have plenty of material for the post, and we knew we wanted to incorporate some of the travel aspects of it, so we were glad we had the afternoon to work on that. The hotel was beautiful, and we took lots of photos there, too. I was so ready to be done with photo shoots, but this one was fun since I knew it would no longer be a daily thing.

  We barely had time to get back to the room to freshen up before it was time for me to post my note to Cole. It was just before 7PM when I scribbled on some notebook paper and took a picture of it for my Instagram account. I kept it short and sweet, and crossed my fingers that he would figure it out.

  My note read:

  Dear Cole,

  This is where you would be if you were a king.

  Love,

  Olivia

  Chapter 14

  I posted the note and basically ran from my room toward the courtyard. I knew it would take Cole at least a few minutes to get there (depending on where he was and when he saw it). The suspense was killing me, and I did all sorts of stuff like bite my lip, wring my hands, pace in the elevator, and chew on my nails. Tyson documented it all.

  I felt short of breath and nauseated as we rode down the elevator, and I had to make a real effort to talk myself out of having that anxiety attack thing happened again. I wondered if having one meant I'd be more prone to have another.

  "I'm nervous," I said as I paced.

  Tyson's camera was strapped around his neck, and he let it fall to his chest so he could reach out and take my hand. He must have been able to tell how nervous I was because it was unorthodox for him to hold my hand. "Look at me, Liv," he said since I was still glancing around nervously. Our eyes met. "You're a beautiful soul, and any man would be lucky to have you."

  I gave him a smile. "There's no such thing as luck," I said softly.

  "What?" he asked with a have you lost your mind expression.

  I smiled at his face. "Nothing," I said since I didn't have the presence of mind to explain it. I was so out of my mind with nerves and adrenaline that I clung to Tyson's hands holding them in mine. "Tell me it's gonna work out," I whispered.

  He smiled. "It's gonna be fine, sweetie."

  The elevator arrived at ground level, and it dinged quietly as the door opened. Tyson reached out to kiss my cheek before we turned to walk off the elevator. He held onto my hand, pulling me into the lobby. We knew right where we were going, so we walked off the elevator with purpose in our stride. We had only taken three steps when Tyson came to a dead stop, causing me to run straight into him. I bumped into his shoulder at full speed, causing me to bounce backward. "Goodness, Tyson," I said, trying to regain my balance.

  I looked up to find Cole standing there. He was staring at Tyson then at me with a somewhat confused expression. I knew he could see into the elevator from where he was standing, and I wondered what Tyson and I must have looked like when the door opened. I stood there, speechlessly watching as his gaze shifted from Tyson to me, and down to our hands, which were still connected. I could tell Cole didn't like the sight of him touching me, which made me giggle nervously. I was in the process of letting go of Tyson's hand when Tyson let out a big dramatic sound of disapproval, waving his hand in a big sweeping motion between me and Cole as if to draw an invisible wall.

  "Nu-uh, no sir!" Tyson said. "Don't even look at her till I get her out there on that courtyard!" Tyson moved in front of me, ushering me in the direction of the courtyard as he turned to look at Cole. "I'm sorry," he said. "You can hate me later. Just give us two minutes to get outside and get situated, and you can come out." We were walking away when he turned and yelled, "You look good, by the way."

  I glanced over my shoulder before we rounded the corner, but Cole had already turned around. He was running his hands through his hair in a gesture that said he didn't know what to think of all this fuss. I smiled as I continued walking, feeling happy that he would go along with all this even though it wasn't really his style.

  "He wore dress pants," Tyson said, as we scurried through the lobby, and out to the courtyard. "I was hoping he'd look nice."

  "I knew he would," I said.

  "I'll still get some good shots even though you guys have already seen each other." He paused and glanced at me with a perplexed expression. "How'd he get here so fast?"

  "I have no idea," I said, still feeling like it was too much to take in.

  "His shirt's gonna go good with your dress," he said, as we maneuvered around a group of people who were standing by the door.

  Someone in the group recognized me. I knew it because I heard them whispering my name. It was obvious that Tyson and I were in a hurry, so no one tried to stop us.

  "He did not like me holding your hand," Tyson said as we got to the area on the courtyard that was reserved for us. He spun me around and proceeded to straighten my hair and clothing. "Shoulders back," he said. "And try to give me some angles."

  "I can't promise anything," I said feeling breathless. "I think I lock up when I see him."

  "You're amazing," he said. "You look beautiful, and you won't lock up. Just be yourself."

  I took a deep breath. "I think I'm just meeting that girl," I said.

  "Who, yourself?" Tyson asked.

  I nodded, and he gave me a quick smile and a pretend kiss on the cheek before heading to his predetermined vantage point. He had one of those huge white lenses on his camera, so he wasn't planning on being right on top of us when he took pictures.


  The sun was heavy in the sky, and it filtered into the courtyard beautifully. There were fountains and lush green landscaping, which complimented the stone and iron accents. There was an old-world charm to this place that made everything that much more surreal.

  I glanced toward the door, hoping to see Cole. I caught sight of the people by the door who had whispered my name as I passed, and one of them waved and smiled as my eye passed over them. I returned the smile and wave before glancing away. I stared at the brick pavers beneath my feet for a few seconds and took a deep breath before looking at the door again.

  Cole was standing there.

  His massive frame filled the doorway. He stepped outside, letting the door close behind him. He hadn't caught sight of me yet, and I was tempted to wave or yell, but I just stood there. I watched as the same girl who had waved at me quickly crossed the short distance between her and Cole. I saw her say something to him before turning to point straight at me. Cole glanced at me before facing her with a smile and wave. The girl scurried back to her group, and Cole turned to me again.

  He zeroed in on me, and we just stood there, taking each other in from a distance. I held my hands up in a aren't you gonna come over here pose, which made him smile and do the same thing to me, telling me I was perfectly capable of walking over there. I narrowed my eyes while still smiling, and crooked my finger at him. Cole shot me a devastatingly handsome smile before walking toward me.

  "Oh, my gosh, yes!" I heard, Tyson say from the side of me as I watched Cole approach. I honestly didn't care what Tyson was saying or what kind of photographs he was getting. All I could see was Cole. He wore fitted khaki pants and a white shirt with some sort of light checkered pattern. He smiled as walked toward me with a confident stride.

  I couldn't just stand there and make him come all the way over to me. I knew Tyson didn't want me to move, and I tried my best, but it was impossible. I waited for him as long as I could, but I ran the last few feet into his arms.

  Cole caught me, lifting me off the ground for a few seconds before letting my feet touch the ground gently. We had absolutely no concern with what was going on around us. We unabashedly stared into each other's eyes—our faces only a few inches apart. We were both wearing the same smile—the one that said, I don't even know where to begin with what to say, but I know I'm happy to see you. Maybe it even said, I love you. I think it said a lot of things.