“What about her family? Did she mention any ailing relative in need of an expensive, life-saving surgery? Or a brother who needs to get bailed out of jail? If she has some financial hardship story, then she could be totally playing him.”
“No ailing relatives that she mentioned, at least not to me, but apparently they’re trying to keep things very low-profile when it comes to this relationship.” Ryan’s air quotes were implied in his tone. “Her family supposedly doesn’t know anything about him yet.”
“Okay, now see? That seems suspicious to me right there. Why not share this joyful moment with her family?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Bryce. Maybe because he’s probably as old as her dad? I don’t think that’s the kind of news a woman shares until she’s pretty darn sure the relationship is going somewhere.”
“I guess, but something is very shady here. It’s all fun and games until somebody signs over all the stock options to our company. You need to find out more about this gold-digging bimbo before Dad does something unfixable, like marrying her. Ask around the island. I’ll see if I can dig up anything from here. What did you say her name was again?”
“Daisy. Daisy Calhoun. Or Carpenter. Or Calamity. Damn it, you know I can’t remember names. Anyway, I do have someone I can ask. I met this woman at the airport and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bryce interrupted. “Not you, too? You met a woman? That’s all we need is you distracted by some bimbo, too. Am I going to have to send Jack out there to rescue you both? That place is turning into the Hotel California. You know, you check in but you can never leave?”
“Relax, you jackass. She’s not a bimbo. She’s a mom.”
“Uh, hate to break it to you, bro. Moms can be bimbos, too. Have you not met my first wife? Or my second?”
Bryce was on marriage number three. Because he did marry bimbos.
“Listen to me. She’s not like that. I mean, she’s attractive and everything but—”
“What’s and everything? Dude, stay focused.”
“Yes, Bryce. I’ve got it.” Geez, his brother could be a dick sometimes, and Ryan didn’t like him referring to Emily as a bimbo. She wasn’t at all. “Anyway, I met this woman at the airport who grew up on the island. She’s here for the summer, so I’m thinking I should call and invite her out for coffee or drinks or something. She’s got to know this girl, right? They’re close enough in age that if they both grew up here, they have to know each other, and then she can give me the scoop.”
“Make it coffee. I know you, and if you have cocktails with this chick, you’ll end up in the sack with her, and I’ll have to send Jack out there for sure. Hey, come to think of it, what if meeting that woman at the airport was no coincidence? What if they’re in cahoots?” Bryce loved his word-of-the-day calendar. That must’ve been a recent one.
“There’s no cahooting, Bryce. No grand scheme other than a too-young girl after Dad’s money. Unless your secretary was in on it, too, because she’s the one who booked my flights on Outer Effing Mongolian Airlines, remember?”
“Yeah, okay. Listen, I’m about to pull into the parking ramp and I’ll probably drop the call, but do whatever you need to do. Call your airport friend today and find out everything you can about this Daisy person, and remind Dad he has family obligations. Tell him if he wants some young chickie-poo for a distraction, I’m sure we can find somebody in Sacramento. And tell him he doesn’t have time for square dancing. What the fu—” And the call dropped.
“Coffee sounds nice, Ryan. Thanks for the invite, but one of my sisters has coerced me into helping out at the Buy-Buy Miss American Pie tent during the Lilac Festival today. Can we do it another time?”
Seeing Ryan’s name pop up on her phone this morning as she sat in Gigi’s kitchen had started Emily’s day with a tingle and a smile. He hadn’t completely forgotten about her.
Gigi cast a speculative glance her way, adjusting her bifocals and leaning in closer over the table like the big, bad wolf. All the better to hear you with, my dear. Emily pretended to ignore her, as if that were possible given their close proximity.
“Tell him I said hi,” Chloe said, taking another waffle from the stack in front of her. Gigi had cooked enough food for six people, but they were doing their best to eat it all. Fortunately, her daughter must be heading into a growth spurt. Lately it seemed as if all that girl did was eat, sleep, and text.
“Sure, we can go another time, I guess.” Ryan sounded more distracted than disappointed. Then he added, “Say, remember talking about the woman my dad had supposedly met? The Gold-Digging Bimbo?”
“Um, yes.”
“Well, I met her. Her name is Daisy something, and guess what?”
“What?”
“She’s about twenty-five years old. Maybe a little older but not by much. Do you know her?”
“Your father is dating a twenty-five-year-old? How old is he?” That was gross.
“Fifty-nine.” Ryan’s tone indicated he was not thrilled about this matchup either, and she could understand why. That just wasn’t right.
“Well, that’s . . . that’s quite an age difference. Is she . . . nice?”
Gigi picked up Emily’s nearly empty coffee cup and moved toward the silver percolator to refill it. Emily smiled and nodded in thanks. Nosy or not, her grandmother was taking good care of her this morning, and it felt nice to be waited on.
“Nice? I guess, but since she’s obviously way too young for my dad, she must have some hidden agenda. She’s definitely after something. So do you know her?” His voice was muffled for a moment, like he’d tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. She could hear him rustling around some papers, and a mild annoyance flickered. He’d called her. The least he could do was pay attention.
“I can’t think of anyone by that name.”
“But she said she lives here, and you said you grew up here. You must know each other.”
“I haven’t lived here in a long time, Ryan. Maybe she moved to the island after I left.”
Gigi set the cup back down, and Emily breathed in the scent. She hoped there was coffee in heaven, because if there wasn’t, she wasn’t going. Then again . . . she might not be invited in anyway.
“No, I’m sure she said she was born on the island.” Ryan was now sounding pretty insistent, as if Emily was the one making a mistake. Her glow over his invitation waned.
“Um, speaking of hidden agendas, did you really call to invite me for coffee, or did you just want to interrogate me about some floozy that your father is . . . keeping company with?” She would have said banging, but since Chloe was sitting right there, Emily went PG-13.