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Three

Am I still dreaming?

Last night, Lauren swore that was true. After the driver dropped off Nicholas and Victoria, he’d continued on for about a mile until reaching a cul-de-sac lined with exquisite single-story homes, all different architecturally and uniquely beautiful. Her immediate favorite was the very first one on the corner lot, a Spanish-inspired design of tan stucco and adobe brick with a black gabled roof. Even in her exhaustion she’d admired the wrought iron accents and arches on the windows and doors. When the driver had pulled into that home’s driveway and announced it as the guesthouse chosen for her, Lauren’s jaw had dropped.

“I’m 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?”

Victoria placed a hand on Lauren’s arm and squeezed. “Not even Faye, darling.”

“Years ago, Ed and I briefly dated.”

“The son.”

“Yes. I was a freshman in college. He’s eight years older than me. I was young, dumb, impressionable and thrilled to get the attention of an older, successful man. Mere weeks into dating, he gave me a ring. A promise ring that we both assumed would lead to an engagement. But it didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because in time I realized that Ed’s well-put-together image was a facade hiding a controlling narcissist who was verbally abusive. I gave back the ring and ended the relationship. I don’t think he ever got over it. Ed’s an only child used to getting what he wants.”

“Your parents didn’t know?”

“They knew we’d dated but not why we broke up. I never told them about anything—the verbal and emotional abuse, his anger issues, definitely not about the ring. Our parents are friends and I didn’t want to cause trouble between them. Anyway, a while back, I heard that he’d been boasting about an upcoming engagement to a young, naive but really pretty girl. Something happened and the relationship abruptly ended. And then...”

Victoria raised a brow but remained silent.

“He tried to get me back, tried to force me into a relationship by reminding me of the promise I’d made and admitting his fault in our not working out. When I rebuffed his overtures, things got ugly.”

“How so?”

“He demanded that I marry him, and if I didn’t comply, he threatened to make things difficult for my family. Of course I told him hell would freeze over before I got involved with him again.” She released a quavering breath. “I don’t know what he told my dad, but now two men are trying to force my hand.”

“Did you ask Paul why?”

“Yes, and Dad’s answers don’t make sense, nor does the chummy friendship that seems to exist between them. In the past few months they’ve really ramped up the pressure. This break is a godsend, so thanks again.”

The women paused as Sofia returned bearing a tray of warm homemade rolls, a pitcher of juice and a crystal bowl filled with the spinach and quinoa salad that Victoria had requested. When conversation resumed, the topic shifted from Lauren’s personal life to the freelance marketing work she’d handled over the past twelve months and the professional duties she’d take on as Victoria’s personal assistant, work that would largely center on the CANN Foundation.

“I’m sorry to overwhelm you,” Victoria finished. “But next week’s tea and fashion show has become a hugely popular event. That this one takes place around Valentine’s Day, focuses on love and features some hunky eye candy along with the fashion has made it even bigger. But between the two of us, I think we’ll be fine.”

“I do, too,” Lauren said, zipping up her tablet cover and placing the computer inside her tote. “It’s a lot of work, for sure, but I love being busy and I’m a huge fan of Ace Montgomery, his wife London and the HER Fashion line. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure the event goes off without a hitch.”

“There’s one last thing, Lauren.” Victoria reached for a folder on the table before her. “I’ve drawn up a six-month contract covering from now until July 15. Had I had one before I wouldn’t have been left high and dry without help. I hope you don’t mind signing it.”

“On the contrary, I’d be delighted. That means it’s literally illegal for me to return home.”

Small talk continued as Victoria walked Lauren to the door, with Lauren commenting on the original art pieces that lined the hallway. They stepped outside to a clear, cloudless sky and a subtle warm breeze. “Where’s the car?” she asked.

Along with the guesthouse, a car had been placed at Lauren’s disposal. She had yet to drive it.

“I walked here,” Lauren replied. “The dry air is a wonderful change from Maryland’s humidity, and weather this warm in February rarely happens back east. Plus I haven’t worked out lately, and can use the exercise.”

“Just so you’re sure, because I’d be more than happy to have someone drive you home.”

“No, thanks, I’ll be fine.”

The women hugged. Lauren waved and headed down the circular drive to the sidewalk that cut through an expansive lawn, toward the paved road. The two-mile-long walk was barely remembered, so consumed was she with the amount of work she’d need to handle to help Victoria pull off next week’s fashion show. She’d wanted to escape Ed, the pressure from her father and a predictable life, but as she reached the front door of her lovely Spanish-styled home, Lauren couldn’t help but ask herself, had she jumped from the frying pan into the fryer?

Lauren entered the home and headed toward the dining room table, pulling the tablet from her tote while crossing the room. She wanted to go over the notes while the conversation with Victoria was still fresh in her mind. Tossing her tote on the couch, she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, then sat and fired up the tablet. That’s when she noticed something missing—her charm bracelet.

A pang of fear seized Lauren’s chest as she jumped up from the chair, retrieved the tote and began searching inside it. The bracelet had been her talisman since receiving it as a birthday gift at the age of sixteen. She’d moved cross-country to dodge domineering men and take control of her future. Now would be the worst possible time for her luck to run out.

With no success from a search inside, Lauren reached for the sandals she’d kicked off upon entering the house. She slipped them on and opened the front door. Just before stepping outside, her cell phone rang. Victoria, maybe? Had she found the bracelet on the manse’s exquisite marble floors? Lauren hoped so, and hurried to catch the call before it went to voice mail.

“Lauren Hart.” Her greeting came out in a rush of panicked air.

“I know who I called,” a familiar voice answered.

“Oh, Avery. Hi.” Lauren headed back toward the still-open front door.

“Obviously not who you were expecting,” Avery said. “Which answers my second question after ‘How are you?’ which is ‘Have you seen your teen crush?’ Is that who you thought was calling?”

“Actually, I was hoping it was Victoria, his mom.”

“Oh.”

“I lost my bracelet and was hoping she’d found it.”

“Your good luck charms? Oh, no!”

“Exactly. I’m trying not to freak out.”

“Don’t do that. Just think of all the places you’ve been and retrace your steps.”

“That’s what I’m getting ready to do.” Lauren stepped back inside the home and headed toward her closet for a more comfortable pair of shoes.

“Can I call you back?”

“Not before an update, a short version at least, since my phone calls have not been returned.”

Lauren retrieved her tennis shoes, sat on the bed and put the call on speaker. “From the second I touched down, it’s been a whirlwind. I was going to call you tonight.”

“So you had to start work as soon as you landed?”

“No, but in some ways that’s how it felt, and that’s after being in transit for almost eight hours.”

“Why did you book a flight with that many changes, or such a long layover?”

“To be a part of Christian’s birthday surprise. Yesterday was his thirtieth birthday. His parents surprised him with a slew of gifts and I was a part of that package.”

“What?” The single syllable held out for several seconds suggested there were many more questions behind it.

Lauren laughed. “Not like that! His parents bought him a private plane and wanted me to fly in on it. So I took a flight to Atlanta, where the Gulfstream was built and customized, and then flew on it from Atlanta to here.”

“Ooh la la! Envy has me greener than the wicked witch right now. Your charm search is going to have to wait. I’m going to need a play-by-play from the time you boarded until right before I called.”

After changing shoes, Lauren went from the bedroom to the living room as she gave a recap of the past twenty-four hours, including the instant attraction she’d felt for her preteen heartthrob and why with all of the social maneuvering around Christian that she’d seen last night, the party had felt like work.

“Everyone wanted a piece of him,” she finished.

“Including you?”

“Avery! I can’t believe you just asked me that!”

“Why wouldn’t I? You forget I’ve been your friend for a very long time. It’s just a matter of time before you have to act on that attraction. And don’t give me the ‘no love in the work zone’ argument. You’ve had a crush on that guy since forever. Don’t blow your chance to make your fantasy a reality.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do more than think. Act. You’ll only be there for six months. What do you have to lose?”

It was a good question, one that Lauren promised Avery she’d ponder while resuming the search for something she’d already lost—her lucky charms.

Sin City Vows

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