your hairline is? “I signed off on thirty thousand for a car. You have to stick with your budget.”
“I can’t think about a budget,” Mel whined again. “Have a heart.”
Mel Vaughn was twenty-six years old, but he was acting like a child. When he’d hit bankruptcy, the court had appointed Jake to unravel his finances. Now Mel wanted a Ferrari when he still owed the IRS a chunk of change.
Jake leaned against a fence as he watched Merry measure the diameter of a small children’s ride. Every time she bent over to measure something, his pulse leaped into overdrive.
“Mel,” Jake said patiently. “You can’t buy a Ferrari until after you pay the IRS your back taxes. If you buy a Ferrari after the deal I brokered for you with the IRS, they’ll come after you.”
“How are they going to find out?”
The first thing Mel would do was tweet his purchase, post a picture on his Instagram account and announce it on his Facebook page. “Do you think a high-profile case like yours isn’t going to be scrutinized? People care about what you do, Mel. And trust me, the IRS monitors everything. The purchase of a Ferrari will not stay a secret for long.”
“How am I going to explain it to her?” Mel asked, his whining going up a notch.
“Have her call me. I’ll be the bad guy.”
“But she’s got her heart set on this Ferrari.”
“Then she can pay for it. Thirty grand is all you’re getting. Because thirty grand is all you have to spare. You’re barely swimming above water, Mel.” Mel was starting his career all over again. “No Ferrari,” Jake said flatly. “Don’t ask me again.” He disconnected, not wanting to hear Mel continue to beg.
When Jake had decided on finance for his career, he’d thought dealing with celebrities would be glamorous and fun. But the reality was much harsher. He loved his job, and he loved the challenge of fixing people’s broken finances, but he didn’t always like the people.
His gaze landed on Merry again. She’d moved on to another ride and stood in front of it with her sketchbook cradled in one arm while her pencil moved up and down. Jake studied her, wondering what her finances looked like. She must have socked away some money, since her series had run for five years until both she and her costar had grown out of their parts. She’d done a few movies afterward, but nothing in the past decade. She drove a Prius. In a background check, he’d found out she’d been transitioned to working in the Chapman Brothers theme park as an assistant set designer, since that seemed to be something she’d enjoyed, but most of her background was a big question.
She knelt down in front of an orange tree. She measured the base and made a note in her sketchbook. Even though she was dressed in a practical manner, he could see that her jeans were well made, and though not high-end designer jeans, they weren’t something she’d picked up at a discount department store.
“Jacob,” his father said. “I didn’t know you were here.”
Caught by surprise, Jake forced his attention away from the distracting woman to his father. “Got here a few minutes ago.”
His father gave him a shrewd glance. “Pretty, isn’t she?”
Jake pulled his gaze away from Merry to look at his dad. “I thought we had agreed to sell the park.”
His dad’s gaze darkened. “I changed my mind,” he said defiantly. “I don’t want to sell.”
“Dad, I know you didn’t care much for Harry Constantine. He can be a bit of a hard-ass, but his offer is a good one. If you don’t like his offer, Alicia Mortensen at Kessler Investments is interested. I’ve had a number of other queries about this property.”
“I don’t want to sell,” John said, a mulish look on his face.
“This park hasn’t done more then break even in years. People who come to Los Angeles go to Chapman Brothers, Knotts Berry Farm, Universal Studios or Disneyland. They don’t come to Riverside.”
“I’m not looking to attract the international traveler. A lot of local people can’t afford a hundred bucks to get into a big, fancy park. For a family of four, that’s four hundred dollars. That was my house payment when your mom and I first got married, and that was high-end. Locals can come here for thirty per person, have a great time and go home feeling like they haven’t dropped a bundle. I’m not looking for the international traveler, but the local people who don’t want to compete with the whole world for a day of fun.”
“I think you’re making a mistake, Dad,” Jake said wearily, yet still determined to make one last pitch. “You can’t compete with the big people, and I don’t care how cheap you make it.”
“I never wanted to be a big-ticket park.” His father shook his head. “Do you think people don’t remember Citrus Grove? Half the people who work here were attendees before they ever got a job here. And a lot of people come because their parents came here. We are about family memories. We’re a vital part of this city. I never expected you or your sister to take over the park. It was never your thing, but John II loves it here. He’s the future. He’s why I changed my mind about selling.”
“But Dad,” Jake said in the soothing tone he used on his more agitated clients, “you’re sixty-seven.” I’m not giving up, Jake thought, just making a strategic retreat. Though he had to admire the passion in his father.
His father’s gaze rested on Merry. “Sixty-seven is the new forty,” his father retorted. “I don’t want to retire, Jacob. I want to get up every morning and find new ways to make people happy.”
In his pocket his phone vibrated, but he ignored it. It was probably Alicia Mortensen; she didn’t like being ignored. “Don’t you want to sit back and have some fun?”
“I am having fun. I’m having fun with my grandkids. I’m having fun with my customers. I’m even having fun with Miss Alcott. You see her over there,” John continued with a broad smile. “She’s having fun, too.”
Jake followed his father’s gaze. “She’s measuring a tree.”
“Even the tree knows how to have fun, unlike you.”
“I know how to have fun.” He tried to think of the last time he’d actually had fun that didn’t include a neurotic client. He came up blank.
“Really,” John said, with a piercing look at his son.
Merry glanced up and waved at John. John waved back, his face alight with happiness. For a moment, Jake was transported back to his childhood, going round and round on the carousel. He’d been happy at that moment, but even then he’d known the park wasn’t his destiny. He’d always wondered why the magic of the park had never worked for him or for Evelyn.
“Miss Alcott is a retired child actress,” Jake said.
“If I remember correctly, you never missed that show she was in,” his father said with a grin.
Jake stirred uncomfortably. Sometimes his father remembered the oddest things. “And you could be sailing off into the sunset in that boat you’ve never used.”
“Not yet. I
