Beautiful Mine (Beautiful Rivers #1) (11 page)

“Oh no. I know
of
them. Most people around here do. They just seem really nice though. Such a shame about the parents,” she says, opening her menu.

“Why? What do you mean?”

She glances up at me, a serious expression on her face. “You don’t know?’

“Know what?”

She puts the menu down and leans in. “They passed away last year.”

My hand flies to my mouth.

“Drowned in a boating accident.”

“Oh my god.”

She nods soberly and returns to her menu. “Yes. It was such a pity. Those poor kids.”

I return to my menu too, but I’m not really seeing it. Oh, God. Poor Connor. My heart aches as I start to imagine what he’s been going through. What they’ve all been going through. I feel like crying and blink back the tears that are wanting to build, trying to keep my emotions under control.

“Oh dear,” Abigail says gently. “I forget what a tender heart you have.”

“No, I’m okay,” I say, slightly embarrassed and not wanting her to make a fuss. “I cry at Kleenex commercials.” That’s not exactly true, tender heart notwithstanding, but she smiles at my explanation and goes back to the menu.

My phone vibrates and I pull it out of my purse, my mind reeling. It’s a text from a number I don’t recognize.
Now you have my number,
the text says.
How long are you in town?

Till Sunday,
I text back, but what I want to say is, ‘God, Connor, are you okay?’

Good,
he replies.
I’ll call you soon.
That’s the last I hear for the rest of lunch. I try to have a nice visit with Abigail but I’m having a hard time listening as well as I should. All I can think about is Connor.

Connor

The day my parents died, I was descending Mount Everest and out of cell phone range. It would be three more days before my phone picked up a signal, and I heard it ring. When I answered, Lizzy’s frantic voice said, “Oh my god, Connor!” It was the sound of painful relief and agony all mixed into one. I’d never, ever heard her voice sound like that before, and it sent me into an immediate panic.

“Lizzy? What’s wrong?”

But the sound of her hysterical crying faded, like she was pulling the phone away.

“Lizzy? Lizzy!”

“Connor?” It was Rayce. He’d taken the phone from her. His voice was calm, but grim.

Oh my god, it’s Corrine.
That’s what I thought. The most logical thing. The worst thing I could possibly think of.

It was far, far worse.

“Corrine?” I asked.

“No. It’s Mom and Dad.” His tone of voice alone told me it was something truly horrible. Confusion blurred with cold dread. Mom and Dad? There couldn’t be anything wrong with Mom and Dad. They were invincible. Truly.

Except they weren’t. As I stood outside of base camp at the foot of Mount Everest, the wind whipped around me and rustled against my insulated jacket, and Rayce told me Dad had taken Mom out sailing three days ago. Their boat capsized and their bodies were found later that night. Three days ago, I’d been on top of the world. I was literally on top of the world the very day my parents were dying. I couldn’t process it. It couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry, Connor.”

No
. It couldn’t be. Except my brother would never lie to me. Not about this. The wind whipped through again, my jacket rustling violently.

“Connor?”

“I’m here.”

“Where are you?”

I should be home.
“Uh... base camp,” I answered.

“What?”

I hadn’t told my siblings I was climbing Mt. Everest. Dangerous stuff makes Lizzy nervous, and we had a deal that I wouldn’t tell her about things like that until after they were over. It’s not common for me to go several weeks without calling, but because of the various things I do it’s not exactly unusual either. The radio silence I needed while I climbed Everest wouldn’t be enough to cause her concern. Normally.

I need to be home. I need to be home right now.
“I’m in base camp,” I said again.
“Mount Everest.”

“Jesus.” He paused then said, “Is that Tibet or Nepal?”

“I’m on the Tibet side.”

“All right, hang on. I’m going to call Carl Maddox. He said he’d help with transportation if we needed it, once we tracked you down.”

“Okay,” I said, but my brain was still thick. I couldn’t think much of anything. I sank to the ground, right where I’d been standing, and stayed there while my brother made arrangements with Carl. Carl owns Maddox International, has a ridiculous amount of money and resources, and he and his family are old family friends. I don’t know just how many private jets and planes the Maddoxes own, but they have offices and various headquarters all over the globe, with planes to go with them. So, a lot.

When Rayce came back on the line, he said, “Can you get a car to Shigatse? There’s supposed to be a small airport there.”

I flew into Lhasa City, which is farther away, but trusted him. I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. “Yes.”

“Okay, Carl will have a shuttle plane meet you there. He’s still putting together the rest, but he’ll take care of it. You don’t need to worry about anything. We’ll get you here as soon as possible.”

I heard Lizzy crying in the background.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It wasn’t your fault.” I’ve never heard my brother sound so old and tired.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I scared Lizzy.”

“She thought you were dead.” I pinched my eyes shut.
I’m sorry.
“She’ll be okay now. Let me know when you get there.”

I nodded. “I will.”

There was a moment of silence as we sat together on the phone. I didn’t want to hang up. I didn’t want to be alone here.

“We’re going to need you, Connor.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ll ship my boat back. I can’t arrange it now. I’ll have to do it later.”

“I’m sure Carl would be willing to help.”

“I’ll do it later,” I said again, unable to think about it any further.

“Okay,” Rayce said. “Are you all right? Can you make the call?”

“I can make the call.”

“Keep me posted.”

“I will. Tell Lizzy I love her. And Corrine. I love you, too.”

“Travel safely. Please.”

I’d said I could make the call, and eventually I did. But I must have sat there on the ground for many minutes, my brain in shock, before I was able to think through all the steps, which suddenly felt very complicated: look up the number, make the call, tell them where I am, get my things together.

The next twenty-six hours were the longest of my life. I hired a car that drove me the eight hours to Shigatse, where there was indeed a very small airport. There I was greeted by a grim-faced Maddox employee in a suit, who simply nodded at me and said, “Mr. Rivers.” He led me to the plane—just a little Learjet—and we flew to Lhasa City. Aside from the employee and the pilots—I never even learned their names—I was the only one on the plane. From there, I was once again the lone passenger on a Falcon jet that flew almost direct to the airport in Swan Pointe, landing somewhere a couple times—I don’t remember where—to refuel. The employees on board tended to me, expressing their condolences and bringing food and drink. I let them, but I ate and drank little and mostly just stared out the window in numb disbelief.

When I de-boarded the plane, Lizzy and Rayce were there waiting for me. Lizzy ran into my arms and damn near knocked me over and we clung to each other like our lives depended on it. She cried on my shoulder and I may have shed some tears on hers too. Rayce didn’t cry or speak, but he put his arm around Lizzy and rested his hand comfortingly on my head.

The patriarch already,
I’d thought. I remember that very clearly.

I really couldn’t tell you how long we stayed joined together like that.

Through it all, our parents were still dead.

The day before the funeral, my siblings and Corrine and I spent the entire day at the resort, going through Mom and Dad’s offices and trying to figure out what we needed to do to keep things running. We sorted through emails, reviewed their calendars, went through files. We dealt with open correspondence with various people, although by then most people knew what was going on and were patient with all the delays. We made endless lists of things to do.

It was a long day. It was the first day I felt a mantle settle like an anvil on my shoulders. It was the first day (but not the last) that I felt terrified by the fact that we didn’t yet know all the specifics we needed to know about the business, and might not be able to keep Mom and Dad’s dream from collapsing in on itself. It was the first day (also not the last) I felt damned determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

The first few months passed like a whirlwind. Truth be told, none of us were what Mom and Dad would’ve considered “fully trained.” Rayce was closest. He’d been working as the CFO, and his duties intersected with Mom and Dad’s most often. Lizzy was still “stair-stepping” up and working as the Director of Lodging—we’ve since hired another—and it’s my understanding that she did a good job of it. But she was still training with Mom to learn the other aspects of operations, which Mom handled herself, and there were a few remaining gaps.

Thanks to my good memory and lifelong drive to prove I could do anything my big brother could do—it began once I’d started walking, according to Mom, and hasn’t let up since—Dad had trained me on quite a bit on his side of things before I left home. But I wasn’t really thoroughly versed in all the details of the resort’s executive operations either and besides, I’d been gone four years.

It was kind of a disaster, at first, and we relied heavily on our management team. Eventually we started to figure things out, but it took us awhile to sort out a new division of responsibilities. Mom and Dad had overseen various aspects of the resort based on their interests and strengths, which didn’t really line up with what the three of us did best. Rayce still handles the financials, but he and I share the executive relations side of things, which Dad handled. Lizzy and I split up some of the operations, with her focusing more on rooms and events, and me overseeing the restaurants and activities side. Things eventually started to calm as we got a better handle on things and were no longer working ninety-hour weeks.

That’s when the dust started to settle, which was almost as bad. With far less to distract us at that point, the shock let up and the grieving hit hard. Almost eight months later, I wouldn’t say anyone’s over it, but we’re getting on as best we can, I guess.

Though, I’m not so sure about Rayce. Honestly, things have been a little rough with us.

As for the business itself, though, it’s almost routine now. Every so often we’ll hit a snag—we’ll discover something Mom or Dad handled that no one else knew about—but it’s going pretty smoothly overall. Thank god for our incredible managers and staff. Many of our employees have been around for years, a few from the very beginning, and they’re almost like family. When it happened, they gathered around us and did everything they could to help. Not to mention our regular guests and members of the Swan Pointe community, who also expressed their love and support. I’m deeply grateful for it. Truly.

I still wish my parents were here instead.

And I’m rapidly approaching a fork in the road I’m dreading. Really dreading. Because I have no idea what I’m going to do.

Rayce pulls his Bentley Continental into the parking lot of the lawyer’s office building at exactly one o’clock. Most people would consider this close enough to being on time, but not Rayce. Not lately, anyway. Rayce unbuckles his seatbelt, practically oozing irritation. From the front passenger seat, Lizzy gives him a look, clearly wanting to tell him to relax but not wanting to stir the pot.

I don’t care.

I get out of the backseat still in happy shock about Whitney. I can’t believe she’s here. God, if it weren’t for this stupid meeting I would’ve just crashed her lunch party, because I didn’t want to let her out of my sight for even a second. And what a sight she was. Wow. She’s beautiful anyway, but
damn
did she look stunning in that dress. Not to mention the way she felt in my arms. Her smell. Her smile. Damn.

I’ve thought of her often since we last saw one another. It took a while to get over her. Much longer than I thought it would. Well, okay maybe in some ways I’ve never really gotten “over” it, but what could I do? I’d deliberately left things without a way to contact her, and she didn’t ask for my information either. I told myself that had been the right thing to do, too, because there have been many, many moments of weakness when I would’ve reached out to her.

And now here she is. I’m a little drunk with it. I’m not assuming she’s interested in starting anything again. I couldn’t begin to say. She could have a boyfriend, for all I know. Though the thought of that makes me a little crazy, so maybe not. I hope not. God, I’m a mess. But even if all I get to do is talk to her, I’ll take it. I’ll take whatever I can get.