Raindrops on Roses: Book One of the Favorite Things Trilogy (7 page)

"Well, you see, she only
manages the clothing store on the ground floor. And she only got
that job after my brother
begged
Gran to hire her, just to shut her
up."

"Oh. So, is your mother not a Bauer
then?"

"No, Bauer's my father's name, it's his
family; and they were never married. He died of some weird liver
disease when I was four."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that." He
paused. "Boy, Veronica Bauer's as famous as it gets but I'm
guessing that's a little known fact."

"It sort of is. Mostly because she left the
spotlight such a long time ago and rarely ever gave
interviews."

There was a pause on the
line as Michael changed lanes, processing. He was now dating the
granddaughter of Veronica Bauer.
The
Veronica Bauer. It was a serious
head-trip when he thought about it. It meant a whole new world was
opening up to him.

"You know, I wish I didn't have to leave you
tonight."

"I know."

"When will you have me back?"

"How about Friday?" she said. "All the dust
should've settled by then."

Michael closed his eyes. He'd be on his way
to Tucson with Amber. "Ahh, Priscilla, I'm so sorry...We have a
business trip planned to Arizona this weekend and I won't be back
until Monday morning. Can I see you before I go?"

"Well, you've already made the trek up here
a couple times this week. Why don't you just call me when you get
home on Monday? I can't promise Doug won't be around, but if you're
not too tired, I'd love to see you then."

Disappointed, he decided not to press the
issue. "I won't be too tired," he said quietly. "I'm already
missing you like crazy."

"Me too," she told him. "Just have a safe
trip, okay? I'll see you when you get back."

•
CHAPTER EIGHT •

T
he following day, Priscilla and Douglas left the law offices
of Jordan, Dyer & Brighton with the full weight of their
grandparents' legacy having been placed firmly on both their
shoulders.

Their grandmother had left them each a fifty
percent share of Bauer Enterprises and all its assets, with Douglas
stepping into her role as CEO. She expressed a wish for him to
mentor Priscilla so she could work alongside him as the company's
President in the not too distant future.

Emerald Leas and an apartment in Paris were
left to Priscilla, while Douglas inherited the country house in
Normandy and the apartment in London. Their grandmother had also
owned a villa in Greece, but she'd left that to someone else...

While they both knew their grandparents had
done well for themselves, first in Hollywood and then in the hotel
business, Priscilla and Doug had both been shocked to learn of the
millions of dollars in cash their grandmother had had at the
ready—and its three-way bequeathment was the hot topic of
conversation on their ride home.

"So why don't we go and meet her together?"
Douglas suggested as he turned Priscilla's Porsche Panamera onto
the causeway.

She looked over at him
thoughtfully. "I don't know, Doug. I mean, of course, I want to
meet her
eventually
, but I don't think I'm ready to leave home for anywhere
right now."

Douglas shook his head,
snorting in amazement. "I'm
still
trying to get my mind around this! Who do you
think her father was, anyway? Do you think
she
even knows? I think it's
possible it had something to do with the real reason Gran quit the
movie business and went off to Europe the way she did." He paused,
serious again. "Jesus. She must've been like sixteen years old when
she gave that baby up...Do you think the father was someone
famous?"

"That's doubtful," said
Priscilla. "Remember she started in the business at eighteen
because of Granddad, they had just gotten married." She shook her
head. "Wow...what a scandal it would've been if it
had
been a co-star. Like
Loretta Young and Clark Gable." She thoughtfully toyed with the
button on her jacket. "I can't believe she's kept that secret all
these years. And now that she's gone, those awful gossip rags are
dredging it all up. Let's pray it doesn't gain any more
traction."

"Wishful thinking, Cilla. Her will is public
record once it's probated. So just brace yourself and lay low."

"Great," she sighed, adjusting her
shades.

"I need to check in with Jerry at the
hotel," Doug said a few minutes later. "Right now we're revamping
the websites and updating Gran's bio in the company profile. It
shouldn't take too long, but I can take you home first if you
like..."

"No, it's okay. I think I'll sneak into
Blossoms and say hello to Natalie."

Douglas drove into the heart of downtown
Mayfair, where the world-famous Raindrops on Roses Hotel &
Resort stood proudly as one of the island's main attractions. Their
accommodations had become so popular over the years, bookings were
made nine to twelve months in advance year round.

As the second in the Favorite Things hotel
chain, the Mayfair location had opened in the late 1970s and had
quickly become even more profitable than the first. Today it
remained at the top of the ledgers, the most popular of all three
hotels.

When they arrived, Doug
headed for the elevator bank and Priscilla used a back door to
discreetly enter
Dew
Blossoms
, the hotel's floral shop. Natalie
Soto was in the office, busy working at her desk. She looked up and
smiled as Priscilla walked in.

"Hi, honey," she sang, jumping up to give
Priscilla a warm hug. "It's so good to see you here...this
beautiful face."

"Oh, you too," Priscilla said into her
shoulder. "And thank you so much for this. I needed a good
hug."

"Things will never be the
same around here without our Veronica. She's gone much too
soon.
Way
too
soon."

"I know," said Priscilla,
taking a seat. "But life goes on, doesn't it? And we get to go with
it.
Yippee
," she
added cheerlessly. "Doug stopped in to see Jerry so I thought I'd
hide out with you until they finish."

"Not a problem, chica. I'm
glad you came in, because I have something to tell you..." She
lowered her voice. "Charlotte is making everyone very, very
uncomfortable. There's talk. They say she thinks she will take over
as manager of the hotel now that your grandmother is gone, and she
has a list of people she wants to get rid of! A list of people she
wants to
replace
."

"Yes, we've heard all
about it so don't worry—Charlotte's being handled. Just ignore it,
Natalie, and please help dispel those rumors whenever you can.
There are no plans to change management at Raindrops at all. From
what I know, Jerry's always done a great job and Gran would
never,
ever
have
replaced him. I'm pretty sure Doug plans to address it formally
with the staff soon."

"Well, that's a relief," Natalie said,
falling back into her chair. "Because I personally don't think
Charlotte ever really liked me. I don't know what I ever did to
her, but she doesn't like me."

"Well, at the end of the
day she's my mother, but I don't think she really likes
anyone
but herself—the
one person she can truly be expected to look out for."

They chatted for a good while before Natalie
decided to go over to the hotel's restaurant and pick up lunch.

Priscilla was finishing up the last of her
fish and chips when Doug poked his head through the doorway. "We're
all done, Cilla," he said. "You ready to go?"

"Yep. Excellent timing."

•~•

When they got back to the house, the guard
on duty advised them that their mother had been turned away about
fifteen minutes ago.

"What the hell does she want now?" Doug said
as he drove through the gate. "You know it must be some kind of
nuisance issue when she doesn't even call one of us first. Thank
God she didn't know we were at the hotel, or you can bet she'd have
tried to cause a scene."

"You should never have
pushed Gran to hire her, Doug. Mom's a big girl and she could've
gotten a job anywhere.
Anywhere
. But now we'll never be rid
of her. She'll always be a pain in the ass." Pulling out her cell
phone, Priscilla said, "Let's see what she wants." But then she
hesitated. "Wait a minute..." She looked closely at Doug. "Did you
tell her we were going to see the lawyers today?"

Douglas ducked his head
slightly, ready for reproach. "I may have
mentioned
it, off hand. Not
deliberately, but I think it slipped out."

"Douglas! Seriously?" Priscilla scoffed.
"Well, at least now we know what she wants!"

"I'm sorry," he said as they pulled into the
garage on the north side of the house. "But look, you know me. I'm
a pretty open book. I'm just not as good at keeping secrets and
remembering who not to tell what. It's just too much to keep up
with."

Rolling her eyes, Priscilla got out of the
car. She could feel the imminent stress and annoyance that came
with dealing with her mother, but she wanted to get it over with so
she went ahead and called her cell phone.

"Hi, Cilla," answered Charlotte McDermott
promptly. "How are things? You guys okay? I'm so glad Doug's here
spending this time with you."

"We're both doing fine, Mom. The guard said
you came by...?"

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you and Doug. I
don't feel too good about how we left things the other night."

"Okay...and?"

There was a marked silence before Priscilla
heard sniffles.

Here we go
again
, she thought.

"Listen," she began, "you
both need to remember that I'm your mother. Your
mother!
And that counts
for a lot. I don't like how you spoke to me and I don't like how
either of you have taken to
treating
me, Cilla. I deserve more
respect. If from no one else, I should get it from you and
Douglas."

Priscilla felt herself starting to wilt
under her mother's whining; the very sound of Charlotte's voice did
ugly things to her insides.

Gran, where are
you?
she thought.

The loss was raw and fresh again in that
moment as she experienced the full weight of what it meant not to
have her grandmother anymore. She had always shielded Priscilla
from these tactics, intimidating Charlotte enough to keep her in
check. But now Priscilla would have to learn to protect herself, to
enforce her own boundaries.

And I will,
she thought wearily
.
But, please, God, not today
. So without
saying another word, she handed Douglas the phone and
mouthed:
She's crying
, and rolled her eyes. Then she turned and jogged up the
stairs to grab her sketchpad.

There were several other things she needed
to be doing, like e-mailing her accountant and enrolling in a few
financial management seminars. But first, she really needed some
time to de-stress and re-center her mind.

Earlier, she'd gotten the most beautiful
gift from Michael, a sterling silver chain-link bracelet that had
arrived by messenger from Gucci. It was gorgeous and she absolutely
loved it! Whenever it caught her eye she knew she would be thinking
of him.

She fingered it now with a smile as she
walked down to the beach to spend some time out on the pier with
her muse.

•
CHAPTER NINE •

"L
adies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking—Captain
Finley. We've just begun our descent into Palm Beach International.
Local weather is a balmy seventy-eight degrees; local time, 8:51
a.m. We should be arriving at the gate in about twenty-two minutes.
Flight attendants prepare for arrival."

As the captain hung up the
intercom, Michael jerked awake.
Guess I
dozed off
, he thought, looking around and
stretching with a discreet yawn. He looked over to find Amber
playing a game on her phone. Eyeing her profile, he had to admit
that the new hairstyle really suited her. He liked it.

The weekend had gone a lot better than he
had thought it would, with Amber obsessively taking enough pictures
to fill a yearbook. Though he'd planned to have "the talk" with
her, he had quickly realized that it wasn't the right time. After
all, was he supposed to break up with her before, during, or after
one of their romantic couples' massages? The occasion just hadn't
been...appropriate. So on Friday night, Michael had simply shut
himself off in the bathroom, breathed deeply and gave himself a
reality check. It was all about having the right perspective on
things.

He knew it was over, and he knew he would be
ending it. But he had to get through the next three days without
being virtually paralyzed by guilt and dread.

You don't have to lead her
on
, he'd told himself.
You don't have to be cold or unfeeling
.
You can be as kind and as plugged
in as anyone who genuinely cares about Amber's well
being
. And Michael did care about
Amber.

So they'd had their massages, they'd swam,
enjoyed the saunas, gone horseback riding, walked the trails, done
some yoga, and had lots of sex in their bungalow. Amber had spared
no expense with new and exciting toys and lingerie designed to turn
him on and keep him that way. And Michael was a man after all, so
he was turned on.