The memory of Ben Baker, all muscle and sculpted jaw, flashed in Bella’s mind. She promptly dismissed it. “Of course not. I’m in Walker Beach, and I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”
“Where’s that?”
“It’s a little tourist town off Highway 1 between LA and San Fran.”
“Wait, so you went on a weekend vacay and didn’t invite your best friend?”
Bella trudged through the sand, her leg muscles burning with the constant motion of sinking then pulling out her feet. “I told you. It’s a work thing.” She gave Jessica the basic details of why she was there. “If I can get this guy to sell his property to Mom, then Mom will tell me everything she knows about my dad.”
If only it were that simple.
“This is Walker Beach. My home. I’m not selling to some money-grubbing real estate developer whose main goal is to ruin my town.” Ben’s words from last night pummeled her like the waves beating the shore a few feet away.
“So, was this thing her idea or yours?”
Ah, there was the rub. If only Bella could blame it entirely on Mom. “Both. I was in her office when she got a call from one of the VPs about the need to secure this property soon.” Bella swiped a drop of sweat from her forehead as she maneuvered around some children digging holes in the sand. “Mom suggested maybe I could succeed where she failed because I was, quote, ‘pretty and good at getting what I want.’”
“Sounds like her. What did you say?”
“I said no way. But then Mom said she’d give me anything I wanted. A promotion? Done. A raise? It would be mine.”
“And you asked for the one thing you knew she’d never give unless she was desperate.”
“You make it sound so cold and calculating.” Bella’s sunglasses may have muted the bright colors of the umbrellas dotting the beach, yet a headache was forming behind her eyes anyway. “But after this, I may actually know more about my dad than his first name and that he died when I was a baby.”
Couldn’t Jess understand what was driving Bella? But no, how could she? She had an amazing family, one that Bella had come to know well thanks to countless weeknight dinners and weekend sleepovers as they’d grown up together.
Jessica’s silence chafed like the sand one of the kids flung against her leg as Bella passed. Finally, her friend spoke. “Bells, come on. Lying to some guy you don’t know? That’s not you.”
Yeah. Jess definitely didn’t understand. “I’ll take that under advisement.” After a terse goodbye, Bella hung up the phone then pulled up directions for her destination.
The Frosted Cake, a supposed local favorite, should be a great place to overhear the latest town gossip. If the directions on her phone were correct, it would take only a few minutes to reach the South Village restaurant Ben had mentioned yesterday.
Bella veered toward the edge of Baker Park and onto the boardwalk that ran the length of the town. And then, without the conversation with Jessica to distract her, the memory of last evening, of time spent in Ben Baker’s presence, rose sharp in Bella’s mind.
She had definitely sensed him walking on eggshells—the tight jaw, the scrunched brow, the pursed lips. At first, anyway. After a while he’d loosened up a tad. She’d almost felt like they were getting somewhere. When he’d agreed to stay for the game, Bella had nearly fallen off the couch.
Then it had all unraveled. The way he’d described his town, his family, his people had resonated so deeply inside of her. Because he had what Bella had always wanted. And according to him, her success meant his loss.
She’d had to get out of there quickly before she did something foolish like cry. Because Jess was right about one thing—this wasn’t her. She was much more comfortable in a boardroom, giving a presentation, or working a budget than cozying up to a stranger, even if said stranger was extremely attractive.
But her friend was wrong too. Bella had promised herself at the beginning that she absolutely would not lie. Even though this had been Mom’s idea, Bella didn’t have to adopt her tactics. And so far, she hadn’t said one untrue thing.
Still, the faster she learned what she needed to know, the faster she could accomplish her task and get away from Ben Baker and Walker Beach—and the things they made her feel.
The GPS on her phone told her to turn left off the boardwalk, so Bella took the connected sidewalk that led to Main Street and found the Frosted Cake. Upon entering the diner-slash-bakery, warmth and the heavenly smell of cooked beef and chocolate engulfed her. The place wasn’t huge, but there were several occupied tables toward the back and a to-go counter with a line several people deep.
A pastry case next to the counter displayed an assortment of desserts that set Bella’s mouth watering, especially the devil’s food cake. Several groups of people lingered in the tiny entrance lobby, presumably waiting to be seated. Everyone looked like they knew someone else.
Like they knew exactly where they belonged.
Now what? How was Bella supposed to get information, especially with no tables available? Suddenly her plan to “meet people” and “listen in” to gossip sounded short-sighted and out of her depth.
Sure, she was good at schmoozing with other company executives at a mixer or gala, but this was different. Half the people here were in bathing suits and cover-ups, and most of them talked with an ease and openness that Bella hardly recognized. The jovial woman with white hair behind the counter seemed to know everyone who walked in the door. And maybe, except for Bella, she really did.
The bell jangled behind her, and Bella turned. No way. It really was a small world. Or a small town, anyway. Because there stood Ben’s sister, Ashley. The woman looked just like her photo, with sculpted shoulders and the look of a tall, sleek runner. She was accompanied by a shorter leggy blonde with kind eyes.
The women headed for the to-go line, and Bella followed. Being a creepy stalker wasn’t exactly what she’d signed up for. But she just needed an in, a way to jump into the conversation without freaking out Ben’s sister.
Pretending to study the menu behind the counter, she listened to the women’s conversation. For a few minutes they chatted about work and some upcoming wedding between a family member named Tyler and his fiancée Gabrielle.
They were nearing the front of the line. This was never going to work.
“—and the inn looks terrible. I hope Ben hears about the insurance money soon.”
Bingo.
Inhaling a deep breath, Bella tapped Ashley on the shoulder. “Excuse me.”
Ashley turned. “Hi.” Cocking her head, she smiled.
Huh. Not how most women in LA would have reacted to someone interrupting them.
“Hi.” Bella forced herself to return the grin despite the nausea roiling in her stomach. “I’m really sorry to butt in, but are you talking about the Iridescent Inn?”
“We were.” Ashley’s brow crinkled.
Yeah, Bella sounded like a major snoop. She rushed on. “I’m staying there. It’s a beautiful property.”
“It really is.” The smile was back. There was something altogether too welcoming and friendly in Ashley’s posture. In this whole place, really. “I’m Ashley. The owner Ben is my brother. Oh, and this is my cousin, Shannon.”