"Loved the finer things in life," Landon said, nodding.
I fought back a laugh at his comment. "No. He worked really hard, and so did my mother, but neither of them spent a dime. All they ever wanted was for us to be together."
Landon cocked his head in interest. “What kind of things did you guys do?”
"Family dinners, trips to the shore, playing Scrabble at the kitchen table."
Landon leaned one arm on the bar and faced me, his voice quiet. "And how is your mother?"
I straightened my shoulders. "She got sick when I was in high school and passed away before I graduated."
"I’m sorry to hear that. My parents are both gone."
Landon's curt confession softened the stiffness in my back, and I reached for my whiskey. "I'm sorry. It's never easy."
"Thanks. I think I had it a little easier because they were almost strangers to me. They weren't really the 'family dinners' kind of people. My father worked non-stop and my mother always had a cause or an event to champion." Landon swirled the whiskey in his glass, then finished it in one gulp. "Though Andrew’s been around long enough that I count him as family. Speak of the devil."
We both watched as Andrew backed out of the swinging door with two plates of appetizers. He smiled when he saw us together.
"You mean the friend you steal drinks from?" I asked.
Landon chuckled and snagged a French fry from one of the plates before Andrew could set them down in front of us. "I added a couple more whiskeys to my tab."
"And here are some snacks to add on top of that. Good thing I know you're good for it, Landon." Andrew rolled his eyes.
"So you mooch off your friends and your family?" I opened my wallet, took out my debit card and forced Andrew to take it. "Sorry, but I, for one, like to pay my own way."
The men exchanged a coded glance, and I decided it was best to ignore them and get back to figuring out where the hell I was going to stay for the night. There was no way I was going to sleep in that damn rental car.
In the midst of my desperate online search for available rooms, a long string of texts from Owen appeared. The rapid succession meant that I couldn’t ignore them, not if I wanted to get anything done.
"A persistent admirer?" Landon asked.
I felt my face twist into a grimace. "More like a persistent borrower. Here, do you want to talk to him?"
Landon held out his hand. "Who knows, maybe he's changed his ways and is planning to surprise you."
I yanked the phone back out of his reach. "Or maybe he's saying the same thing over and over again."
"Not everyone has a way with words. I mean, I do. Every word I speak is pure poetry." Landon laid a hand on his heart and cleared his throat.
I clapped both hands over my ears despite still holding my phone and laughed. The repetitive chiming of my text alert felt like an insect boring through my skull, but Landon was an excellent distraction. "No, thanks! Unless you know a great poem about an available hotel room."
"Well, it just so happens I know there is an empty apartment above the bar. Not sure how to put that in rhyme or, what is it? Pentagram Meter?"
"Iambic pentameter," I said. "Wait, is there really a place above the bar?"
Landon nodded. "A little apartment complete with kitchenette and a bathroom with one of those claw-foot tubs that ladies love."
I narrowed my eyes. "How do you know that ladies love the bathtub up there?"
He ignored me and flagged down Andrew. "You can stay there. It's no problem."
An acidic wave of doubt washed through my stomach. Not only was Landon too handsome for his own good, but now he was too helpful and a little too charming. He probably lured women upstairs all the time.
"How does that saying go? Never a player or a borrower be?" I asked.
"Not sure you got your Shakespeare right, there," Landon said with a smile that wobbled my resolve. "Andrew, will you tell this nice lady there is a room available above the bar? Apparently, when I say it, she thinks I'm being a creep."
Andrew gave me an appraising look and laughed. "There is an apartment up there. I'm not saying it's the cleanest, but it’s there if someone needs it."
I nodded. "I can make a good case. I flew in from New York this morning on the red eye. My friend is graduating from UC Santa Cruz, and I thought it would be fun to drive down Highway 1. And it was until my rental car started acting up."
"Acting up how?" Andrew asked. He did his best to look skeptical about how much I needed the room upstairs.
"There was a knocking sound in the engine, the car shuddered every once in a while, then there was this burning smell. Now it won't start at all." I produced the car keys and held them out to Andrew. "Go ahead, try it."
"Is it a maroon convertible?" Landon asked. When I nodded, he laughed. "Nice parking job."
"I had to coast in."
Andrew crossed his arms. "And you've never heard of the Michel's Fund?"
"Who's that? Wait, does it have something to do with the beach I passed?" I asked.
Landon rolled his eyes. "This town, or 'place' as you call it, is called Michel's Beach. Never thought much of the name myself."
Andrew glared at Landon before turning back to me. "So you've never heard of Golden Bluff Estate?"
I frowned. "Did I mention I'm from upstate New York?"
"Come on, Drew, she has no idea about the gala. Stop thinking everyone's a reporter trying to sneak a peek inside the gala." Landon poured himself another shot of whiskey.
"The big event for me is my friend's graduation,” I said, “and now I'm going to miss it because the rental place can't send their mechanic with a new car until Monday."
"So, not only do you need a place to crash tonight, but you need a way to get to Santa Cruz?" Landon set down his drink without taking a sip. "I think I might have an idea."
"Hey, Lan, looks like you've got some hands to shake," Andrew said as he motioned his head in the direction of the balcony.
Landon groaned even though he wore a charming smile. Standing up, he wove his way through the balcony crowd that was now escaping the ocean chill and inundating the bar. I watched as he shook hands with a clearly wealthy couple.
"Let me guess, he takes care of their fancy beach house while they’re away?" I asked Andrew.
Andrew furrowed his brow and studied my face. "You're serious, aren't you? This is just too funny."
Before I could ask him what was so funny, a young couple took the barstools to my left. The woman had perfect, platinum hair, and a rope of pearls the size of gumballs. The man wore a navy blue blazer and a watch that glinted with diamonds.
"Nice to see you again, Mr. Wyatt. We are so excited to be heading up to the Golden Bluff Estate tomorrow night," the woman gushed in a British accent. She turned to me and laid a manicured hand on my arm. "The mansion is absolutely breathtaking, isn't it? I really think it should be classified as a castle but Americans shy away from that term, don't they?"
"There's a castle up the hill from here?" I asked Andrew.