staying here? Are you sure?”
“Positive,” the driver had responded with a knowing smile. “You’ll find your luggage in the bedroom. The residence has been stocked with everything one might need for an extended stay, but just in case you need anything else the guesthouse manager’s card is on the table in the foyer.” He handed her a small envelope. “Here’s the code for the lock. Can you make it in okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Just checking. You look pretty wiped out.”
She had been, but from exhaustion, not from too much drinking as she believed the driver assumed. It had taken her a couple tries to key in the correct code, but upon opening the door, it was like entering the abode of a fairy tale. The decor was straight out of Architectural Digest.
And now, awakening on the cloudlike memory foam bed after a blissful night’s sleep, the dream had yet to dissipate. She sighed contentedly. The sun was shining. She was well rested. And everything that had happened, all that she’d seen, was real.
Lauren sat up, stretched and reached for her phone. She tapped the face. “Oh my God!” It was after 10:00 a.m. An early riser since college, Lauren couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept this late, even after a night of partying. She’d even slept through the telephone ringing, with missed calls from Avery, her bestie, and her mom, Faye. Victoria had told her to come by after she’d risen for a casual visit. Lauren had said to expect her around nine o’clock. Now she’d be lucky to get there by eleven.
After sending Victoria a quick text requesting they meet at eleven, she took a quick shower, pulled her hair into a high ponytail, and hurriedly donned a free-flowing, light yellow maxi dress, silver jewelry that included her ever-present charm bracelet and a pair of ivory-colored sandals with cute yet comfy wedge heels. She arrived at the front door of what could only be described as a mansion with two minutes to spare.
A middle-aged Hispanic woman with coal-black hair and kind eyes opened the door.
“Hello, are you Lauren?”
“Yes.”
“The missus is expecting you. Please, come this way.”
Lauren entered a wide foyer with art-lined textured walls and slate tile, with hues of orange, tan, blue and ivory, colors that were repeated throughout the home’s elegant yet comfortable decor. One hallway flowed into another. To the right was a formal dining room with huge single-paned windows that not only let in loads of natural sunlight but showcased the beautiful and meticulously landscaped garden in the expansive backyard. They turned left down a short hall that ended at ornately crafted French doors, standing ajar. Beyond that was a great room with two-story ceilings, chandeliers and one wall that seemed made entirely of glass.
Victoria was seated on an oversize tan sectional boasting soft Italian leather. She was wearing a short floral caftan and crystal-covered sandals. Seeing her in the bright, natural light of day made her even more beautiful than when Lauren first hugged her last night. Her pixie hairstyle framed a face devoid of wrinkles, one that looked more like thirtysomething than what Lauren knew was actually fifty-plus years. She turned and smiled when Lauren entered, put down the magazine she’d been reading and patted the space beside her.
“Well, good morning, sunshine!”
“Good morning, Victoria.”
Lauren sat, then leaned over to accept the older woman’s embrace.
“Look at you, all fresh-faced and fabulous. You woke up like that?”
Lauren laughed. “Not quite.”
“But you’re not wearing makeup.”
“No. I hope that’s okay. You said this would be a casual meeting, so...”
“Oh, no. It’s fine. I’m just impressed. Not many women in my circle would be caught dead without their war paint.”
“I do have on mascara,” Lauren admitted. “And lip gloss.”
“That’s all? Must be nice.”
“I could say the same about you. You look more like Christian’s sister than his mom.”
“Not without effort. Our hotel spa has some of the best aestheticians in the country, who are always researching the latest skin-tightening, wrinkle-eliminating, turn-back-the-time trends.” Victoria placed a hand on Lauren’s arm. “I was just about to have a light lunch. Care to join me?”
“Sure, thanks.”
Victoria turned toward the woman who’d opened the front door, standing so quietly Lauren hadn’t realized she was still there. “Sofia, tell Gabe we’ll have the quinoa and spinach salad with sparkling cranberry orange juice. Thank you.”
Victoria watched Sofia nod and leave the room. Her eyes shifted to Lauren. “Did you rest well?”
“The best sleep ever. I barely remember my head hitting the pillow.”
“You’d had a busy two days.”
“Yes.”
“And...somewhat of a tumultuous time before that.” Lauren nodded. “Faye didn’t go into detail and you need only share what you’d like, but when I mentioned my assistant’s abrupt departure and that I needed to replace her ASAP, she all but accepted the job for you. Said time away from the East Coast was exactly what you needed right now.”
“She was right.” Lauren took a deep breath, on one hand nervous to share the personal dilemma while on the other compelled to confide in someone with an unbiased point of view. “What exactly did Mom tell you?”
“That you were in a difficult relationship, one exacerbated by the fact that he’s the son of your dad’s employer?”
Lauren’s chuckle held no humor. “That’s one way to say it.” She looked Victoria in the eye. “My dad is trying to force me into a marriage that would be bad on the home front but apparently good for business.”
“Force as in...like an arranged marriage?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s just ridiculous. This is the twenty-first century, and while I’ve known more than one desperate soul who’s walked down the aisle for money, I’d counsel any woman who asked to marry for love.”
Lauren watched myriad expressions flit across Victoria’s face as she processed the situation.
“What does Faye say about it?”
“Basically, she agrees with you, and so do I. But Dad is really pushing the idea, almost desperately so. Being married to the man orchestrating the idea puts her in a difficult position. She wants what’s best for both of us, but he can be very persuasive.”
“You say this guy’s father is your dad’s boss?”
Lauren nodded. “Years ago, when Dad sought investors for his accounting firm, Gerald was first in line with an open checkbook. The future looked promising, but in the end, Dad’s small company couldn’t compete with the intellectual diversity and electronic wizardry of the larger firms.”
She released a breath, then continued.
“While Dad had struggled, Gerald’s consulting firm had grown by leaps and bounds. When his CFO took an early retirement, he called my dad, who felt he owed it to Gerald, given the investment he’d made and never gotten back.”
“Gerald sounds like a good friend. But if your dad is already in an executive position, how would you marrying the son make business better?”
“I don’t know.” Lauren paused, wondering just how much she should tell Victoria. “Can I trust what we discuss to remain just between us?”
“Absolutely, Lauren.”
“Shared with no one, not even my mom?”