Keeping Gemma (Holiday Cove 2)

It was only half of a lie.

“Okay. So, should I dismiss everyone? Or can we come back to work now?”

“The investigation is still going on. Did you get their input for a relaunch?”

“Yes. We have a whole list of ideas on themes and advertising and setup.”

“Great,” I forced myself to infuse cheeriness in my voice. I regretted snapping at her on the patio outside Carly’s, especially with the entire staff peering at us through the windows. “Listen, Lana, I’m sorry about before. A lot is going on and I lost my cool.”

“It’s all right, Mr. Rosen. I understand. And I’m sorry about what I said at the meeting. I was out of line.” Her voice was small and pinched like she was holding back tears.

I squeezed my eyes shut as a wave of guilt ran over me, hot and smothering. “It’s all right, Lana. Already forgotten. I shouldn’t have shouted like that.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Rosen. I didn’t take it personally,” she replied, her voice brightening. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not right now. Please apologize to everyone. Let them know their pay will continue as long as the investigation runs. I don’t want them worried about money on top of everything else.”

“Okay. Will do.” She paused and I could imagine her scribbling the notes on her clipboard. “Take care of yourself, Mr. Rosen. And remember, I’m only a call away.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant but I decided to take it as a show of support instead of an insinuation. It was no secret that Lana had the hots for me, but she’d never made an attempt at a move before, or even anything that could really be considered open flirtation.

Then again, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure she knew how to flirt.

I pushed all those thoughts from my mind. “Thank you, Lana. I’ll get in touch when things are wrapped up and we can start planning the reopening.”

I clicked off the call and pocketed the phone once again. The silence fell back over the cul-de-sac like a thick blanket. In the distance, the ocean waves provided a faint backdrop of white noise, with gulls crying out every few minutes, but other than that, there was nothing. No passing cars. No pedestrians. Not even any noise or movement from the other houses in the small circle.

I flattened my back against the side of the car, trying to adjust to a more comfortable way of standing. My eyes came to rest on Gemma’s small house and I wondered what about it had caught her eye. It was a bungalow-style home with a small porch in the front. It was painted a light green, but from the looks of it, that had been at least a decade ago. It struck me as odd that the previous owners hadn’t thought to spruce it up before putting it on the market. Holiday Cove was quickly turning into a ritzy little town. A sleepy small town retreat for the wealthy.

If O’Keefe got his way, that would all change. Maybe that was his overall vision. To build the West Coast version of the luxe beach town. I had to give him credit for a brilliant idea. If he could pull it off, it would make a shit load of money.

Too bad he was such a piece of shit. Otherwise, I might have actually been interested in investing.

I crossed my arms and scanned up and down the sidewalk, though I hadn’t heard any change in activity around me, and sure enough, nothing was happening.

Where was Gemma? She’d mentioned it would take a while, and while logically I knew that not that much time had passed, the silence made the time pass at a deceptive rate.

I peeked at my phone and groaned when I saw that only seven minutes had passed since we’d clicked off the call. It was going to be a very long afternoon.

32

Eventually, I gave up on standing vigil by the side of the Jeep and parked my ass back in the driver’s seat, where I spent the next hour tapping out a beat with my thumbs on the steering wheel, scanning the street, and trying not to fall asleep.

Nearly two hours later, Gemma’s car pulled into the cul-de-sac and curved into her driveway. I hopped out of the cab and hurried to meet her, expecting that she’d have a lot of shopping bags in tow from her busy afternoon of errands. But when I reached her, she was stalking up the driveway flipping through the ring of keys in her hands without so much as a nod in my direction.

“Gemma!” I barked, all of my impatience and frustration over waiting channeled out into a single word.

She ignored me, but her shoulders bunched up closer to her ears as she stomped a few more steps toward her front door.