Dare Me Forever (3 page)

Now I wished I hadn’t
wandered over. Sure he was good looking--well actually he was
gorgeous--but I wasn’t going to wait for someone I didn’t even
know, no matter how well-built he was or how sexy his accent. But as
I was about to turn and walk away, he ended his call and looked up at
me, straight in my eyes. It was a sweet look, nothing like how he had
sounded a moment earlier, like we were in on some private joke
together. I could feel heat spreading through my chest, and I almost
felt like giggling. The way his eyes sparkled, it felt like he
already knew me.

I’d definitely had
too much to drink--who thinks like this? I could feel my heart
fluttering, almost as if there were an electrical charge in the air.
I only met this man two minutes ago, but I could feel myself blushing
under his gaze. How could I be feeling so strongly?

“Do you work for the
Morgans?” My voice caught in my throat. I took a breath, trying to
relax and avoid being tongue-tied, despite the fact that my head was
spinning—and I didn’t think it was all from the wine either.

“Yes, I work with
Hunter and his father,” he said.

“What are you working
on?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

“We’re working on a
big site together on Ocean Avenue.” He looked serious as he talked
about work, and I loved the accent. “In a few years’ time, we’ll
have all the amenities of the larger cities.” It sounded like he
was in a boardroom trying to win over potential investors. The guy
needed to let loose and remember he was at a party, not the office.

“But keep our sleepy,
casual vibe. I mean who wants an overbuilt coastline with no place to
just walk and enjoy the quiet?” I asked. “Not to mention the
environment.”

He laughed, and then
said, “I’m sorry about earlier. Stressful deal going the wrong
way.” He ran his fingers through his dark, thick hair. I had the
sudden urge to touch it too, to wrap my fingers around a short strand
and pull. I tried to shift my attention back to our conversation.

“But this site on
Ocean could mean real money. You can’t imagine how much is at
stake.”

How arrogant. Even if
he was outrageously attractive, he didn’t know what I could or
couldn’t imagine. “Actually,” I said, unable to stop the bite
in my voice, “I
can
imagine it, but I also know that
everyone needs a bit of quiet, even you.” I gestured towards the
party we’d both left.

“You don’t like the
big time?” he asked, his voice lilting, his mouth smiling, a
mischievous glint in his eye. How did he manage to make that sound so
sexual? I couldn’t help but stare at his mouth.

He looked like a man
who lived in his whole life on a grand scale. Well, he was getting
under my skin in a major way, so he was achieving his “grand scale”
there. I don’t love being made fun of. And anyway, I’ve lived
here my whole life. It kind of irked me that someone who clearly
wasn’t from here had the power to decide how Solana Beach would or
wouldn’t look. I broke eye contact, realizing I was almost
disappointed in him.

“Let’s start over,”
he said, interrupting my train of thought. “I’m Ryan Anderson.
Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful eyes?”

It was like he could
hear my thoughts, could tell I’d been thinking he was a bit of an
asshole. I didn’t want to be swayed by his attention, but I
couldn’t help it. A perfect stranger, who happened to be completely
gorgeous, complimenting me felt pretty damn good.

“Someone has
definitely told her she has beautiful eyes.” Hunter emerged from
the same path I’d been on moments before, and looked straight at
me. Every time he met my gaze, I remembered how much I had felt for
him when we were teenagers, and then like a smack, how it took months
to get over him. I wasn’t happy he decided to interrupt right then.
I could handle this myself. And I wanted to continue to talk to Ryan
alone. Because the minute I set eyes on him, I’d felt something.

“Do you two know each
other?” Ryan asked casually, looking over at Hunter and back again
at me. I caught Hunter’s angry expression, and then saw it turn
wary.

“We’re friends from
way back.” Hunter tried to sound friendly, but I could still hear
the edge in his voice.

Ryan smiled at me, his
face tense, the spark gone from his incredible emerald eyes. I could
feel the tension between the two men growing with each passing
minute. Was this a pissing contest? What were they so upset about?
Maybe it had to do with business, with some kind of complicated
internal politics at play.

“So, boys,” I said
lightly, trying to break the silence. “Let’s get back to the
party, shall we?” I picked up my drink, beckoning for them to come
with me. Ryan looked at me, and I thought I could see a flicker of
sadness pass over his features, but then the look disappeared so
quickly that I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. What was he
thinking? I found myself wanting to figure him out, how he could be
so cold one moment and so warm the next. He stayed near the bench. I
didn’t want to leave him and I felt irritated with Hunter for
interrupting.

Hunter grabbed my arm.
His grip was firm, but still gentle. Instead of walking back towards
the partygoers, he led me towards the house. I don’t know why I
felt I had to go with him—I guess because he had invited me to the
party, but every part of me wanted to stay and talk to Ryan. As we
walked away together, I wanted to look back and say something, but I
didn’t know how to do it gracefully or what exactly I would say. So
I just continued to walk, feeling Ryan’s eyes searing into the back
of my body.

As we rounded the side
of the house, slipping out of Ryan’s gaze, Hunter seemed to finally
relax. “Amy, it’s really so great to see you. I’m glad we left
the back area, Ryan really annoys me.” We walked into the kitchen
through the back entrance.

I was just about to ask
him why, when we heard voices coming near the kitchen. Hunter quickly
dropped my arm, stuffing his hand into his back pocket. Mrs. Morgan
walked into the kitchen from the living room, followed by Jennifer.

“There you are.”
Jennifer smiled tightly. “Hi, Amy, was it?” She narrowed her
eyes, looking between Hunter and me. He may have let go of me, but he
was still standing a little closer than necessary. Jennifer
definitely noticed, and she didn’t like it, not one bit.

“Yes, well I was just
saying goodbye to Hunter. Thank you so much,” I said, turning to
Mrs. Morgan. “It was a beautiful party. I need to find Jamie, and I
have a big day tomorrow at the store.” I could feel myself starting
to babble, like I always do when I’m nervous, but I didn’t want
Hunter’s girlfriend to think I was inching in on her man. Or Mrs.
Morgan to think I was that kind of girl. Jennifer didn’t need to
worry. It wasn’t like that between us. It felt good to see him
again, of course, and we had our shared history. But he’d left me
the week before prom, alone and without a date, and I could still
feel the sting of rejection. He’d probably invited me because he
felt guilty over how he ended things with me.

“I think Jamie is in
the front of the house, looking for you, dear.” Mrs. Morgan pulled
me into a tight hug. “Don’t be a stranger.” She had always been
kind to me, especially after my mother left. Unfortunately that ended
before Hunter and I broke up, but I wouldn’t dwell on that now.

Feeling the tension
between Hunter and Jennifer growing, I waved goodbye and left the
kitchen. Jamie was waiting for me by the front door, thank god. With
the memory of Jennifer’s fake smile still on my mind, I knew it was
definitely time to go.

Amy

I still hadn’t gotten
back to my mom. I could see I had six missed calls during the
barbeque, so when Jamie dropped me off, I decided to bite the bullet
and phone her. As I waited for her to pick up, I sighed, wondering
what she wanted.

The phone kept buzzing.
One. Two. Three.
Please voicemail, please,
I prayed.

The person I really
wanted to call was Ryan. It made no sense. I’d just met him. I
didn’t even know him, but I kept thinking of the way it felt for
those few minutes of being with him. He might be a bit full of
himself with the way he talked about business, but I loved how he had
looked at me. He had that twinkle in his eyes. Maybe I’d run into
him in town. I hoped so.

“Hello.” Miranda’s
smoker voice came over the line. “It’s nice of you to finally
call me back.”

“Hi, Miranda.” She
likes to be called Miranda, as she doesn’t want people to think she
is old enough to be anybody’s mother. With all the face-lifts she’s
had, I think she should worry more about people believing she’s
human.

I took a deep breath,
determined not to fight, not to cry, and to stay calm. I used to try
telling her about my life and what I was up to, until I realized that
she was never listening. I did a little experiment once to see if I
was right, and slipped into the conversation that I was having a love
child with our seventy-nine year old, catatonic neighbor who lived
next door. She knew him from when she still lived with us. He could
barely walk, even ten years ago. All she said was, “That’s
wonderful dear,” before going back to telling me about herself. Now
I didn’t even bother.

Mom babbled on, “I’m
thinking of investing locally so I can see you and Luke more often,
but I can really only spare the time if I can franchise my business
out there or find a new investment that makes sense in California.
That’s what John thinks anyway.”

John was husband number
4. Six months after my dad died, Miranda already had a new man and
when he wanted to move with her to New Mexico for a job, she made it
perfectly clear that we better stay put. She promised she’d split
her time between her new home and ours, but she gradually stopped
traveling back here as often, leaving Luke and me to fend for
ourselves. When Mr. New Mexico didn’t work out, she started dating
the head of his company. She traded in husbands the way other people
trade in cars. Last time I’d seen her, it was over lunch with Mr.
Right Number 4, otherwise known as John. The only difference between
him and Number 3, or so it seemed to me, was the number of zeros at
the end of his bank account.

“Are you going to
franchise the mani-pedi salons?” I asked, trying to sound
interested. Since when did she become so obsessed with her business?
But I guess anything she was doing was infinitely interesting to her.

She’d used John’s
money to open a chain of beauty spas across the southwest and
apparently they were very successful.

“Well what else would
I franchise, Amy?” I could hear her inhale from her cigarette. I
wasn’t going to respond to her bitchy tone.

My silence proved too
much for her. Finally she apologized but she had to take the other
line. I’d never been so happy to get off the phone.

My thoughts wandered
back to Ryan, and for no apparent reason I smiled. He was so sexy, so
arrogant, and so damn intriguing. I wanted to figure him out.

Ryan

After a long, hard run,
I stood in the hotel shower, feeling the hot water from the dual jets
work their magic against my back and neck. Living temporarily at the
Somerset
did not take getting used to. The suite was palatial,
the staff detail-oriented, running it as a tight ship. I’d never
slept better. I’d ordered the same firm bed for my own home that I
was building.

After the long shower,
I shaved quickly and got dressed for the day. My Zegna black suit,
white shirt, and a Ferragamo tie. If I hurried I could have a good
breakfast downstairs, and still make it to the office before anyone
else. If I got there by 8 am, I’d have an hour before employees
started arriving. I needed the quiet to concentrate. There were a lot
of financial calculations regarding the new development that still
remained to be solved.

I took the elevator
down to the dining room and was greeted by Yvette.

“Good morning, Mr.
Anderson. Your usual?”

“Brilliant.” I
liked sitting at the table by the window. It had a gorgeous view of
the ocean, and was a great way to start the day. I grabbed the local
newspaper, ordered eggs on toast, tomatoes, and an espresso, and sat
down to read. This paper had the most relevant information pertaining
to my work. All the stories playing out across this small community
were mine to know and use.

Ever since taking
MORGAN Properties off the edge of bankruptcy, I tried to keep the
outside world none the wiser to my role, as a respectful gesture to
Jim Morgan. Internally, everyone knew, of course, but they were
grateful for their jobs, and seemed loyal to me, their new boss. If I
didn’t want the public to know I was the new CEO just yet, they
would just have to keep it a secret. And they did. People loved Jim,
but some bad investment choices and a hard market had wreaked havoc
on the business. Jim seemed grateful that I could come in and
stabilize everything. He was a good man, didn’t want to see his
former employees out of work, and didn’t want his legacy to be one
of a great company that he built to great success and then ran into
the ground. He was still invaluable for his relationships with local
politicians and businesses that he had carefully built over his
professional career. I’d been in the States for over five years,
but you couldn’t make these kinds of connections in that amount of
time. Only a fool would think differently.

I sipped my coffee, as
Maria, the waitress, put down my order. I thanked her.

The only potential
problem was Jim’s son, Hunter. He was clearly used to having
everything handed to him on a silver platter, and probably thought
that this business would be his to inherit. I understood
disappointment, but it wasn’t my fault the economy had crashed and
most of Jim’s investments wouldn’t come to fruition for many more
years. Without the cash I’d put into the company, Hunter wouldn’t
have a job and neither would hundreds of other employees who worked
for the company.