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Andie trailed after Whit and Vanessa, taking note of the rooms they passed. She would be back tomorrow evening to shoot the building. She would have to come early while there was still daylight, but after business hours. She tried to imagine herself in a nearly empty one point seven million square foot compound. There would be security guards, of course, and a handful of people working late that she would have to try and maneuver around...
She glanced at Whit’s back. He would probably come with her if she asked. Her steps faltered when a map in one of the offices behind a wall of windows caught her peripheral gaze. She stepped closer, curious.
Trabuco Canyon. Live Oak Canyon Road. The monastery. The ostrich ranch. Grammy’s orchard.
Before she could puzzle out why a map of her grandmother’s orchard hung on this office wall, Vanessa interrupted her thoughts.
“Why is she here?” Vanessa asked Whit in a whisper that Andie knew she was meant to overhear.
“I invited her.” Whit stopped, turned and waited for Andie to catch up. He looped his arm through hers and pulled her against his side. The water in the eggnog-turned-flower carton sloshed over Andie’s hand.
Vanessa noticed and smirked. “There are paper towels in the restroom.” She nodded at a door at the end of the hall.
Andie bit her lip, disengaged from Whit and followed the direction of Vanessa’s nod.
“No way, Half ‘n’ half,” Vanessa held Whit’s arm, stopping him from following Andie. “You know men aren’t allowed in there. You’re coming with me.”
Andie found the paper towels, dried her hands, dabbed at the spot on her dress, and headed back into the hall. She paused in front of the office door. She could see the map through the wide glass window. She didn’t know what more she would find inside the office, but she had to try. Music rang from the conference room—the dance instructor’s amplified voice booming out instructions. “Step, step, slide. Step, step, slide.”
After looking up and down the dark, empty hall, Andie turned the knob and pushed the door. Locked. Setting down the flowers, she pulled her camera out of her bag and took a few shots, even though she knew with the dim lighting and the reflection of the glass that the pictures would not be great.
She leaned against the wall when she heard someone approach.
“What are you doing out here?” Vanessa asked.
Andie took a deep breath and held out her camera. “Just looking around for the best angles. I’m photographing this place tomorrow, you know.”
“No, I didn’t know.” Vanessa’s voice dripped with scorn. “So, you’re a real estate photographer?”
Andie nodded. “I shot Bette Midler’s house last month.” Okay—so it was a house that Midler had owned in the seventies, but still.
Vanessa’s eyebrows went up in a way that said you can’t impress me.
Andie decided that she didn’t want or need to impress Vanessa. Her fingers closed around her grandmother’s pearls as she followed Vanessa into the crowded conference room. After placing her roses on the edge of the refreshment table, she shot a few pictures of Kayla, Grayson, the dance instructor, and other members of the wedding party, including Whit, who, if she had to admit it, was becoming her favorite subject. But the map in the office nagged at her. She fought the urge to return to the hall and the map.
“Those are pretty, but not really in keeping with the decor.” Lou-Lou sidled up to her and nodded at the roses.
“Yes.” Andie lowered her camera and her heart warmed as she looked at them. “They don’t belong here. They’re mine.”
“Did you bring them, or do you have an admirer?” Lou-Lou asked.
“I—” Did the business arrangement include lying to her cousin? “I’m not sure.”
Lou-Lou followed her gaze to Whit. He looked like a young George Clooney, whirling Mimi across the conference room floor.
“She’s rocking that dress.” Lou-Lou lifted her drink and took a long swallow.
Andie glanced at Lou-Lou’s pink puffy thing, returned her camera to her case and put an arm around her cousin’s sizable waist. “It’s nice to see Kayla so happy.”
“Everything turns up roses for her,” Lou-Lou said in a voice with an undertone that said Lou-Lou’s life was not blooming roses or even dandelions. “And your mom! When did she get a boyfriend?”
“He’s not her boyfriend.” Andie thought about the map, and frowned at her mother seated at a table, giggling and batting her lashes at Carver Neilson.
“Has anyone told him that?” Lou-Lou asked. “He’s looking pretty ga-ga.”
“They’re friends from high school.” Andie swallowed. “He owns this building, you know. And lots of other things. I think he considers himself much too important to be described as ‘ga-ga.’”
Lou-Lou laughed. “Well, good for your mom! Snagging a rich man can never hurt.”
Oh, yes it can. Andie’s thoughts went back to her grandmother’s orchard and the map.
A light hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to face Whit. As always, he looked gorgeous, even though she could tell he had been running his hand through his hair.
“Andie, is this your sister?”
“My cousin, Lou-Lou.”
Whit gave Lou-Lou one of his best smiles. “I can see the family resemblance. So, are you Kayla’s sister?”
Lou-Lou, who probably knew that she didn’t look anything like Andie or Kayla, flushed a pretty pink that clashed with her dress and shook her head mutely.
“No—another cousin, then.” He flashed another heart-stopping smile. “Would you like to dance?”
Lou-Lou turned a deeper shade of red and placed her hand in Whit’s. Andie smiled, watching them on the dance floor. She pulled out her camera and snapped several shots of them. Her heart warmed toward Whit as he laughed and spun Lou-Lou under the sparkly lights.
She had to ask him what he knew about the map. Maybe he didn’t know anything. Maybe the map meant nothing. Maybe the owner of that office liked maps and used it as a decoration.
But she knew that wasn’t it. People put family pictures, graduation certificates, and professional awards on their walls, not maps—unless they served a purpose. Did Carver Neilson want to buy property in the canyon? Did he want her grandmother’s orchard?
Andie gave her mom another worried glance and thought about dragging Carol down the hall to show her what she had seen. Could she pry her away from Carver’s side? And what would her mom think?
When Whit and Lou-Lou returned, Whit took her hand. “Your turn?” He led her onto the floor.
“Thanks,” Andie whispered.
“For what?”
“For asking Lou-Lou to dance.”
“My pleasure.” He took her into his arms and whirled her. “Besides, I’m getting good at asking,” he whispered in her ear.
She held onto him, afraid that all the twirling was making her dizzy. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I’m practicing. Soon, I’m going to ask to kiss you—right here in public.”
Whit pulled her closer. She resisted the urge to lay her head against his chest. He stopped dancing and placed a finger beneath her chin.
Andie waited with her eyes closed. He was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him. Even though she knew it was just for show, she wanted his kiss. If he didn’t hurry, she was going to have to kiss him. She peeked open an eye and saw Whit frowning at something, or someone, over his shoulder.
She turned and stared at her mom.
Carol and Carver Neilson were making out in a dark corner of the room.
“I can’t kiss you now,” Whit whispered in her ear. “Anything we did would be completely overshadowed by that.”
“I think I’m feeling sick.” And she was.
“Then let’s go.” Whit took her hand.
“Can we just leave?” Andie glanced at Kayla, Grayson and the dance instructor. “Have you learned all of your best-man moves?”
Whit nodded and after another glance at the couple groping in the dark corner, he scooped up Andie’s camera and guided her out the door. Andie shot her mom a parting glance. There was no way she could separate her mom from Carver without causing a scene. She would need to bring Carol with her tomorrow when she came back. And before then, she would have to do some research. Make some phone calls.
They stopped underneath a light in the parking lot. Mist fell and landed on the cars. Moonlight reflected off the wet cement.
“This is so unlike her.” Andie twisted her fingers together. “Should I interrupt them?”
“Believe me, parents are a lot like teenagers. You can’t tell them what to do.”
“I forgot my flowers.”
Whit pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Grayson will get them.”
“Really?”
“Why does that surprise you?”
Andie shrugged. Moments later, Grayson burst out of the double doors, the eggnog carton full of roses in hand. “Would love to stay and chat,” he said breathlessly, “but I’ve got to get back to my groom duties.” He passed off the roses to Whit with a wave before heading back into the Founder’s Building.
At that moment, Andie liked Grayson more than she ever had before. “He’s excited,” she said.
“Of course he is; he’s marrying the love of his life.”
Andie really didn’t want to leave her mom alone with Carver Neilson. She didn’t know him well, but she knew that he could never be the love of her mom’s life.
“Come on,” Whit said, placing his hand on the small of her back. “I’ll take you home.” He noticed her hesitation and added, “Unless you’d rather wait out here for your mom.”
“If I take the Honda—”
“Then Carver will drive your mom home.”
“Oh. I don’t want that to happen.” But she still dragged her feet. “I live in Trabuco Canyon.”
He laughed. “You make it sound like it’s on the moon.”
“It’s about twenty miles.” And in a different world.
“I don’t mind.” He led her to a giant Mercedes and opened the door for her. “My mom’s ride.”
She climbed in and waited for him to settle behind the steering wheel before she asked, “Where’s your car?”
He started the ignition and the Mercedes roared to life. “I don’t have one.”
“Really? I thought everyone in Orange County had to have a car—kind of like how everyone has to have insurance.”
Whit pulled out of the lot and headed for the freeway. “Remember, I’m not here all that much.”
Andie watched the taillights as the cars lined up at a traffic signal. Thursday evening, about nine p.m. and still the streets were full of people coming and going to anywhere. This shouldn’t surprise her, since she was one of them, but sometimes the tug and pull of it all made her want to either be on her way to somewhere else, or nestled in a comfy chair with a good book...which was, when she thought about it, just another way of traveling.
She glanced over at Whit, wondering what made him go. “Tell me about your job.”
“I write for a travel magazine.”
“I know that.”
“Yeah, and you know that doesn’t pay my bills.” He shot her a quick, unreadable look. “I’m also a partner in the family investment firm.”
Andie nodded, and her thoughts flitted back to the map. What did Whit know about Carver’s real estate investment plans? Probably a lot. The realization curled in her belly. “Carver Neilson is your client.” It didn’t sound like a question because she already knew.
“One of them. I’m lucky. I can do most of my work online.”
“You’re lucky in a lot of ways.”
“I know.” He stopped at a street light and met her gaze. “You’re lucky to live in Trabuco Canyon.”
She shrugged an agreement. “I live next to a monastery and an ostrich farm. How many people from Orange County can say that?”
Whit eased the car onto the freeway. Traffic swirled around them, and Andie felt caught in a tide.
“Most people cannot say that.”
She nodded and thought about her home. Love and gratitude for her grandmother washed over her, while suspicion niggled in her thoughts. Could she lose her home to Carver Neilson? Could her mother lose her heart?
“So, what’s it like to live in the canyon?” Whit’s question startled her.
“Great. I love it.” She paused. “I loved growing up there.”
“Yeah? Why?”
“Well, you might not know this, but peaches actually make really great weapons.” She settled back in her seat and told him about spying on her cousin and her boyfriends and throwing peaches at them while they were making out.
Whit laughed. “Is that why you and Kayla don’t get along?”
“Who said we don’t get along?” Andie smirked, warmed by old memories of a younger, feistier, different sort of Kayla. “Kayla is a killer peach pitcher. Jessie, Lou-Lou’s older sister, was our usual target.”
“So, who is ‘we’? And will I need to avoid these people while shopping in the produce aisle?”
“Kayla, Lou-Lou and me. I think we all grew up to be pretty responsible grocery shoppers.” She heard the wistfulness in her own voice and tamped down the stem of memories. Kayla and Lou-Lou were adults, and so was she. “What was it like growing up in Newport?”
“Well, no peaches.”
“How about ostriches? I bet you never raced ostriches.”
He laughed again. “You’re right. No ostrich racing in Newport. But we do have yacht parades, and that’s sort of the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.” She stopped laughing as an idea occurred to her. Whit might know about Neilson’s development plans, but he probably didn’t know, at least very much, about life in the canyon. “Do you have time to take a walk?”
“Sure. Where?”
“Near my house, just up to the top of the orchard.” She read the hesitation in his eyes. “I want to show you something.”
“Does this have anything to do with ostriches?”
“Don’t be silly. The ostriches will be in their pen.”
He considered this. “How about peaches? You won’t throw peaches at me, will you?”
“It’s April, silly. So no peaches, only blossoms.”
“That sounds harmless.”
She nodded. “I’m basically harmless.”
“Unless you are trapped in an elevator.”
“Do you want to come or not?”
“Sure. I’ll come.”
She glanced down at his shoes. “You might get dirty. Do you want to borrow a pair of my grandpa’s boots?”
“Is your grandpa still alive?” He sounded surprised, and Andie let that register.
“Why would you ask?”
“Well, you talk about your grandmother—and I met her, remember? But you never mention your grandfather.”
“That’s because he died about ten years ago.”
“And you still have his boots?”
“Grammy has an aversion to trash bins.”
“I’ll wear my own shoes, thanks,” Whit said, a smile playing on his lips. He eased the car off the freeway and through the toll booth. Lights flashed as they passed under the scanner. Santiago Road was deserted and dark. “So, if you love it so much, why do you want to leave?”
“Who says I want to leave?”
He took his eyes off the road to meet her gaze.
“Oh, that’s right. You read my blog.”
“Do you really think that pictures can change the world?”
“I know they can.”
“Where will you go first?”
The question caught her off-guard. “Where will I go? When?”
“After you get the money you need. Where will you go?”
Andie bit her lip, thinking. All of her planning never got past the financing. “I don’t know, maybe a disaster area. I want to take pictures of people heroically overcoming massive odds.”
“What about the people that aren’t heroic? Will you take pictures of them, too?”
“I take pictures of everybody,” she said, reminding him that he had hired her to do just that.
“We have heroes in Orange County. You don’t have to travel very far, you know.”
“Says the man with the packed suitcase.”
“Touché.” He paused. “The earth has so many amazing places to see. And there are programs. You could teach school. English teachers are in high demand in most countries. And traveling doesn’t have to be expensive. There are hostels, rail passes. I once spent eleven cents on a hotel room in Egypt.”
“Hey, that’s in my budget.”
“Totally not worth it.” His laugh was warm and rich. “A complete waste of eleven cents.”
“Where are you going next?”
“On a safari.”
Andie let out a long, dramatic sigh. “What a sad life you lead.”
“I know. It’s rough.” He grinned at her.
“Tell me about your favorite places.”
Andie leaned back and let his stories of the Amazon carry her away. She could see him in a canoe, stripped to the waist, with a pair of binoculars hanging around his neck. The visual filled her head, and she almost forgot where they were...where they were going.
“Oh, turn here.” She pointed at a collection of mailboxes beside a dirt road and watched surprise flick across his expression.
Whit pointed the Mercedes up the dirt, pothole-pocked road. They bounced along in silence until they reached the ranch house. A porch light cast a silvery beam on the 1940s style one-story home. Andie tried to read Whit’s face as they climbed from the car, but his expression remained shuttered.
“Aren’t we going inside?” he asked.
Andie shook her head. “I don’t want to wake Grammy.”
“But she’s awake.” He nodded at the blue light flickering through the shuttered window. “I can see the TV.”
“She always sleeps with the TV on. She says she doesn’t like to sleep alone.”
“Ah. I get that.”
She cut him a quick look before heading up the hill.
“Where are we going?” Hesitation touched his voice.
“Just up to the top.” She turned and put her hands on her hips. “Are you scared of the dark?”
“There might be snakes.”
“Snakes like the sun.” She balled her fists and put them on her hips. “Are you telling me that you’re not afraid to canoe with barracudas, but you’re afraid of a few sleepy snakes?”
“What about skunks and mountain lions?”
“We have an old chicken coop just over there, if you want to wait for me...” She walked backwards, taunting him.
“I didn’t say I was scared,” he grumbled, following her with long strides.