"I'll walk you out," I said and held the door open for her.
"Wow, the parking lot really cleared out, didn't it," she said. "Looks I'm the only one left except for, whoa, is that a Maserati?"
I steered her away from my car. "Not everyone can have a reliable convertible like you. Though, I gotta confess, I'm glad you coasted into Michel's Beach."
She popped the trunk and grabbed one small suitcase. "Me too, except for the whole missing my best friend's graduation," she sighed.
"You know, I've been thinking about that and I can help you," I said.
She looked around the bare parking lot. "How? Do you have a car?"
"Sure," I said. "Or a boat, or a seaplane…but I think that's probably overkill for a trip down to Santa Cruz. How about a helicopter?"
Riley shoved me as she walked around me and back to The Sand Dollar. "Yeah, sounds great. You just pick me up on Monday in your helicopter and we'll fly over the rainbow."
I stopped. "You don't believe me. All right, yeah, I get that. But what if I told you I really did have all those things?"
"And, what? You've been lying this whole evening? It's all right, Landon, not everyone has a job all the time," she said. "I mean, I don't have a job right now."
"I bet Andrew would give you one at The Sand Dollar," I said.
"Bet he'd give you one, too."
I grabbed her arm before she could go inside. "Look, what if I could arrange a ride that would get you to Santa Cruz for your friend's graduation, guaranteed?"
"How?" she asked.
The words stopped in my throat. It would have been the perfect time to tell Riley the truth. Instead, I wove together a few half-truths. "A lot of the gala guests are very wealthy, so they fly in on helicopters. I happen to know a few of the pilots, and I'm sure one of them will be heading to Santa Cruz from here."
She studied my face. "And you're going to convince them to take a woman you hardly know as a favor to you? What about my rental car?"
"Andrew and I will take care of it when the mechanic shows," I said.
Riley shook her head. "I wouldn't know how to repay you."
I dodged in front of her. "What if I told you I had an idea about that too?"
She smiled. "You've got lots of ideas."
"I'm full of them," I said with a grin.
"You're full of something." Riley laughed and tapped her foot. "All right, what would the deal be for a helicopter ride to Santa Cruz? You're not going to turn out to be a total creep, are you?"
I took her bag off her shoulder and slung it over my own. "No, nothing like that. It's just that I have to go to the gala event and it's really not my scene. If you go with me, as my date, I think I could maybe stand it."
Riley crossed her arms and continued to tap her foot. "All I know about this gala is that it has something to do with the Michel family and the charities they support."
"That's about it," I said. "The Michels open their home, the Golden Bluff Estate, once a year for these big parties. It's like a cocktail party, private concert, ball, and silent auction all rolled into one perfectly themed and decorated event."
"So why don't you like going?" she asked.
I scrubbed the back of my neck. "It's a lot of rich folks wanting to impress each other, and they always want me to join a country club or a yacht club or their yearly trek to Provence. They want everyone to join so we can all start thinking alike and having the same opinions."
Riley crinkled her forehead. "You're not really selling it well."
"Free champagne, free five-star food, world-class musicians, and swag bags worth more than your rental car?"
"Nice try, but I can't," Riley said.
"Is it me? I can explain."
She laughed and laid a hand on my arm. "No, it's not you. It's just that I am clearly an outsider in Michel's Beach. In California, for that matter. I don't really want to go to a fancy party where I will stick out even worse."
"You fit in just fine tonight," I pointed out.
"As a waitress."
I caught her hand before she could remove it from my arm. "As a local. I mean, you made Ruiz happy. The whole town should be giving you a medal."
She smiled but it faded. "I've been in one place so long that it feels really strange to be out here. I'm not even sure if I can do it. I mean, I've already screwed up my first independent trip and got myself stranded here. I have no idea what I'm doing. What if people ask me what I do?"
I chuckled. "Tell 'em what I always do. 'I'm living life.'"
Riley rolled her eyes. "Does that actually work?"
I thought of Lyla's irate response earlier that afternoon. "No, now that I think about it, it doesn't work. Stick with just smiling and nodding."
"Is that what you do?"
I smiled and nodded until she smacked my arm. "Ouch. All right, that settles it. You're coming to the gala as my date."
I swung open The Sand Dollar door and grabbed a cocktail napkin off the bar. I scribbled my name and phone number on it and handed it to Riley.
"I'll pick you up here at noon tomorrow," I said. Then my phone jangled and I broke off into curses. "Sorry, I have to get that. It's my cousin again."
I watched as Ruiz made Riley a plate. At least she wouldn't be going upstairs for a minute.
"Bad timing, Lyla," I said.
"Oh, so you do know how to tell time?" she snapped. "That's interesting because it's almost two a.m. and you're still not here."
"Oh my god, did you wait up for me?"
"Don't be stupid, Landon," Lyla said. "I have better things to do than wonder how you’re wasting your time. I have an overseas conference call. You know, work."
"I'm sorry I lost track of time. Something came up at The Sand Dollar."
"See?" Lyla chirped. "I don't have to wonder how you're wasting your time because you're always doing the same thing."
I turned away from Riley and my friends eating by the bar and hissed into my phone. "You're the one who's always encouraging me to participate in pre-gala events."
"Like golf, Landon. Or sailing. Something with a little dignity. Not just bellying up to the bar and getting drunk!"
"It wasn't like that," I said. "In fact, I raised a bunch of money for the fund. I haven't counted it yet, but some people were tipping with hundred dollar bills."
Her voice dropped to a sharp monotone. "So it's true? You jumped behind the bar and started serving drinks?"
I slapped a hand to my forehead. "All right, go ahead, Lyla, tell me exactly what I did wrong this time."
My cousin heaved a huge sigh. "The Michels have a brand, Landon, one that projects a very high level of breeding, education, and elegance. Serving drinks in the local dive doesn't really fit that image, does it?"
I watched Riley telling the story of her drive. Her hair caught the light in shots of gold as she tossed her head wildly and re-enacted coasting into the parking lot. Andrew, Ruiz, and the staff laughed.