“I’m sure Hang Ten doesn’t have the market cornered on lemon-drop martinis.” Lecie rolled her eyes back to the computer screen for a second, then let her gaze drift back up to her friend.
Deidra pushed off the fireplace. “Are you farming again?”
“No.” Lecie closed the laptop. “I’m not farming.”
“You are too!” Deidra moved to the couch and plopped down beside Lecie. “Let’s go out,” she urged. “Interact with the real world.”
“The real world sucks.” Lecie put the laptop on the coffee table.
Deidra laughed. “Says the girl who owns this beautiful house—outright, I might add—here in the land of fun.”
“Fun is overrated. You shouldn’t get attached to it.”
“Spoil sport.”
“Look…” Lecie cut her eyes at Deidra. “There’s always somebody who will, knowingly or not, stomp on your fun.”
“Say…people who get married, for instance?”
While it’s true, no decent, self-respecting girl wanted to moon over a married man—and Lecie probably would, whether she was in California or France—but that wasn’t what she was talking about.
“I was speaking of Papa.” Lecie rolled her eyes away from Deidra. “You cannot count on any measure of fun to last while my father’s around, lurking in the shadows.”
If Papa was set on Lecie returning home, then she had better be vigilant. With a man like him gunning for her, she didn’t need the distraction that came with having a crush on a married man.
Inside Hang Ten, the staff moved back and forth between the kitchen, dining and supply rooms, and the outdoor patio in preparation for the lunch crowd that would begin to mill in once the doors opened at eleven.
Dean glanced stealthily around the dining room, then leaned across the table toward Nick. “So what are you going to do?” They both knew what he was talking about.
Nick laughed. Not a jovial laugh, but one of irony. “I owe the bank a hundred and eight grand—” He shrugged. “—and some change. I’d kill myself if it weren’t for the insurance.”
“The insurance?”
“Ginny’s my beneficiary.”
“Ah…” Dean kicked his head back. “You should change that.”
“It’s on my to-do list.” Nick cut his eyes toward Dean and gave him a hard stare. “Right behind trying to fend off bankruptcy.”
“Don’t you have any money in savings?”
“Had,” Nick corrected him. “The key word here is had.”
“She wiped out your savings account, too?” Dean shook his head. “Man, that’s tough. What’d you have in there…hundred grand?”
“About seventy grand.” A sadness had invaded Nick’s voice. “It’s all I had left of the money Walter left me.”
Walter Moreland. To hear Nick’s mother tell it, Walter was just an old friend. And while Nick’s father had died when Nick was about to turn eleven, the best he could ever recall, Walter Moreland was not a person that his father had ever spoke of. But the way Nick saw it, considering that Nick had been named in Walter’s will, something had gone on between his mother and Walter, hopefully before she married his father.
“Seriously?” Dean’s tone turned gruff, right along with his frown. “She wiped out your inheritance, too? Is that legal?”
“Apparently, the only person in this scenario who committed a crime was me. For being so damned stupid.” Nick flushed hot with an abrupt and vicious indignation. “I added her to my accounts. Gave her carte blanche to rob me blind.”
“You can’t beat yourself up about that.”
“Why not?” Nick’s scoffing laughter had a bite to it. “I’m responsible for my own undoing.”
“Hell, Nick. You were gonna marry the girl. That’s what married people do. They share bank accounts and crap like that.”
“Well let that be a lesson to you.” Nick’s tone was unwavering. He hoped he never forgot the lesson being taught to him now. “Steer clear of marriage, man. And never, ever give someone access to your bank accounts.”
“You’ve learned what not to do.” Dean gave him one of those nods, like he knew the direction of this conversation had taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way. He shrugged, and said, “Question is…what are you going to do now?”
“I don’t know.” Nick shook his head. “Maybe I can get some credit with the suppliers for the next few months. If I don’t have to pay them, maybe I can make a dent in the money I owe the bank and still keep the community center afloat.”
The community center. It’d been an unmentioned topic hanging in the air between them, ever since Nick found out what Ginny had done to his bank accounts.
Simple truth was, Nick wasn’t the only one in trouble here. If he lost his financial footing the community center would suffer too. Without him, the center would fade away. And if Nick let that happen, it’d be like letting his brother Kevin down all over again.
CHAPTER TEN
Marseilles, France
IN THE BEDROOM SUITE at Pacifique de Lumière, Camille de Laurent’s husband Julian lingered at her side while she perused the jewelry in the box near the dresser.
“Chéri, are you bored with these gems?” he asked. “Try the safe downstairs. I’m sure you’ll find something to your liking in there.”
The safe downstairs was a room that easily rivaled the size of any of the stores on Rodeo Drive. It was the de Laurent’s basement, and it housed the family’s jewels, unlike the personal items here in Camille’s jewelry chest. These were hers. The stuff down there belonged to the family. But she supposed that one day, most of the jewels down there would be hers. Sort of.
“No…” She laughed playfully. “I’m just procrastinating about what to wear.”
“Whatever you wear,” he said, “it will pale in comparison to your beauty.” His lips brushed temptingly against her cheek.
A blush heated her face, for just a split-second, before she caught it and wrangled it in. “Julian de Laurent.” She looked at his reflection in the mirror, and said, “You’re up to something.”
“Me?” His hand flew to his chest.
“Yes. You.” She nodded. “The question is…what could you possibly be trying to flatter out of me?”