Nick to differentiate between him and my father.”
“Hello, Nick,” Lauren said, with outstretched hand.
“And Noah.”
“Hi, Noah.” Again, she offered her hand.
“Ah, no, Lauren. Shaking is for business. Hugging is for friends.”
Noah pulled Lauren into a bear hug.
Christian placed his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Back off.”
Nick laughed. Christian looked over as a few others headed toward them.
“Tyson!”
Tyson, a striking blond with clear brown eyes, bore a mock scowl as he approached. “You going to stand here by the door all night?”
“You’re a trip,” Christian said. The two men enjoyed a hearty embrace. “I can’t believe how well you helped pull this off. You remembered everything, bro.”
“I’m good like that.” He looked at Lauren, clearly impressed. “Hello, I’m Tyson Ford.”
“Lauren Hart—”
“Hey there, birthday boy!”
Lauren found herself being pushed aside by a whirlwind of haughtiness wearing stilettos and cloaked in what smelled like an entire bottle of perfume. The woman threw her arms around Christian. Lauren looked on, more amused than annoyed. But if she read his expression correctly, for Christian the opposite was true. She watched as he deftly removed the brunette’s arms from around his neck, just as more and more of his friends came over to greet him. Soon he was swept into a circle of admirers, all clamoring for attention. From the corner of her eye, Lauren saw someone approach.
“Come, dear,” Victoria said, slipping her arm through Lauren’s and walking toward the head table. “That was Chloe, who grew up with Chris. I’ve seated you with the family, beside me, so that I can offer a play-by-play on this motley cast of characters. In order to do your job properly, you’ll need not only an in-depth grasp of the CANN conglomerate but also the ocean of high society here in Nevada and beyond...”
She paused and watched Chloe glide back to her table. “And the sharks who swim in those waters.”
The next hour was a blur of names and faces as during dinner Victoria pointed out the movers and shakers of metropolitan Las Vegas and the few who resided in Breedlove, the unincorporated Nevada town founded by Nicholas and a few others more than twenty years ago. Lauren was introduced to some of them, along with many of Christian’s friends from across the country who’d flown in for the occasion. Once the last dessert plate was removed, a few tables were rearranged to make room for a dance floor. A famous DJ from Miami fired up the crowd.
Nick walked over. “Come on, Lauren. Let’s dance.”
She waved him away. “It’s been a long day. I’d rather just relax and watch all of you.”
“Okay, but if you change your mind...”
“I’ll come find you.”
When Lauren got up a few minutes later, she didn’t head to the dance floor. She’d seen Victoria and Nicholas heading toward the exit and after getting their attention, made a beeline toward them to catch a ride to her new home. In the past forty-eight hours, her already-chaotic life had been thrown into further disarray, and she needed time to try to process everything and figure out what would come next.
She felt eyes following her as she crossed to the door, saw Chloe whispering to another girl as she neared the Breedloves and fell into step beside them. She could only imagine what Chloe and all the other socialites were wondering about the new girl, and whether or not she, too, was vying to become the missus of tonight’s birthday boy. They needn’t worry. While they may be in a footrace to catch a husband, Lauren had upended her life to avoid one.
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
