CHAPTER 1
Friday, June 13
 
“Are you my Realtor?”
Chardonnay St. Pierre tried to hide her wariness as she approached the man who’d just stepped out of his retro pickup truck. This wasn’t the best section of Napa city.
Their vehicles sat skewed at odd angles in the lot of the concrete building with the AVAILABLE banner sagging along one side. Around the back, gorse and thistles grew waist-high through the cracks in the pavement.
A startlingly white grin spread below the man’s aviators.
“Realtor? You waiting for one?”
For the past half hour. “He’s late.” Char went up on her tiptoes, craning her neck to peer down the street for the tenth time, but the avenue was still empty. She tsked under her breath. She should’ve taken time after her run to change out of her skimpy running shorts, she thought, reaching discreetly around to give the hems a yank down over her butt. And her Mercedes looked more than a little conspicuous in this neighborhood.
Where was he? She pulled her cell out of her bag to call the Realtor back. But something about the imposing stranger was distracting her, demanding another look. “Have we met?” She squinted, lowering her own shades an inch.
He turned sideways without answering and examined the nondescript building, and when he did, his profile gave him dead away.
Oh my god. Char’s breath caught, but he didn’t notice. His whole focus was on the real estate. She’d just seen that face smiling out from the People magazine at the market over on Solano when she’d picked up some last-minute items for tonight’s party.
“What have you got planned for the place?” he asked, totally unselfconsciously.
Then she recovered. To the rest of the world, he was Hollywood’s latest It Man. But to Char, he was just another actor. Who happened to have a really great dentist.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“I asked first.”
Though she wasn’t at all fond of actors, her shoulders relaxed a little. Obviously, she wasn’t going to get raped out here in broad daylight by the star of First Responder. It was still in theaters, for heaven’s sake. He couldn’t afford the press.
Still. This building was perfect. And it’d been sitting here empty for the past three years. Just her luck that another party would be interested, right when Char was finally in a position to inquire about it.
To Char’s relief, a compact car with a real estate logo plastered from headlights to tailpipe pulled up and a guy in his early thirties bounded out with an abundance of nervous energy.
“This business is insane,” he said by way of introduction. “Dude calls me from a drive-by and wants me to show it to him, like, now, right? So I drop everything, even though I’m swamped with this new development all the way over on Industrial Drive. And then he doesn’t show up till quarter of—”
He caught himself, pasted on a proper smile, and extended his hand toward It Man.
“Bill Diamond. And you’re Mister . . . ?”
“McBride.” The actor shook his hand, then turned and sauntered back to the building with his hands on his hips and his eyes scrutinizing its roofline.
“Ryder McBride?” asked Diamond. “The Ryder McBride? Oh!” A smile overspread his face. “Cool! Very cool. Nice to meet you, man.” He nodded once for emphasis.
Char stepped up, removing her sunglasses and slipping them over the deep V of her racer-back tee.
“Hi.” She thrust out her arm. “I’m—”
The Realtor’s eyes grew even wider, as his hand reached for hers.
“I know who you are . . . Chardonnay St. Pierre, right?
He was still holding on when Char’s phone vibrated in her other palm. One glance at the screen and she sighed.
“Excuse me.”
But Diamond didn’t let go.
“I’ve got to take this,” she repeated, pronouncing each syllable slow and clear. She gave a little tug, and he came to, his fingers relaxing. “It’s my little sister.”
She ducked her chin and pressed answer.
“Where are you?” Meri’s voice sounded tense.
“Downtown.”
“You’ve got to come meet Savvy and me. Papa’s in jail.”
Bill Diamond was still gaping when Char dropped her phone into her shoulder bag.
“I’m so sorry. Something important’s come up and I have to run.”
Like a guy who’d come to expect disappointment at every turn, his face fell. “Oh.”
Char felt a stab of empathy.
“Did you want to reschedule?” His brows shot up hopefully.
It was a given. But right now concern for her family eclipsed everything else. “I’ll have to call you.”
As she turned to go, Ryder spoke up.
“I’m staying. Mind showing me around?”
Char stopped in her tracks halfway to her car and glared back at him. She thought he’d barely noticed her. But she’d swear his broad grin was designed purely to tease.
“Excuse me? This is my Realtor.”
“Ah, actually . . .” Bill cleared his throat, looked at the ground, and then back up at her. “I work for the seller.”
“But I’m the one who called you to meet me here,” she insisted.
He looked from Char to Ryder and back as he juggled his options, then shrugged. “But you’re leaving.”
Char’s thoughts raced. She hated to leave those two here together, to cook up some deal to steal the building out from under her, but she had no choice. “Fine. Bill, I’ll be in touch,” she called, climbing into her car, then pulling out of the lot a little too fast.
She loved Papa. Truly, she did. But at times like these, she’d give anything for an ordinary, run-of-the-mill dad, in place of the notorious Xavier St. Pierre.