Thirteen
Samuel Kane was in a hell of his own making.
Which was the worst kind of hell, as far as he could figure.
The insultingly beautiful setting only served to intensify his growing displeasure. The sky was something his mother would have painted. Clementine orange, grapefruit pink, the darkening purple of good table grapes.
Sunset.
Beautiful, breathtaking sunset.
And Samuel, forced to host an event for people he mostly couldn’t stand.
The cars had arrived in a steady procession, a helpful line of flags guiding guests over the shifting beige terrain of Fort Funston’s sand dunes to a hospitality tent. At its center, Charlotte Westbrook handed out name badges behind a fold-out table as the wait staff wove their way through the buzzing crowd with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
Samuel stood among them, flagrantly breaking his own rule about drinking on the job as soon as he’d seen Mason involved in a tête-à-tête with none other than Arlington Banks.
Sipping the cold, acidic bubbles, Samuel wondered why champagne had become synonymous with celebration when really, it was just overly assertive white wine.
The fact that he’d already downed two glasses had nothing to do with how Mason and Arlie looked annoyingly perfect together, as if they’d actively coordinated their outfits. Mason in his cargo pants and white polo shirt and Arlie in her curve-hugging khakis and cleavage-revealing white tank top. Of course, the invitation had encouraged attendees to “dress for adventure” but this bordered on precious.
As if on cue, a staccato burst of Arlie’s laughter floated through the air, and she reached out and touched Mason’s bicep. The look of delight on his brother’s face threatened to make Samuel crush the champagne glass in his tensed fist.
At that very moment, Charlotte appeared at Samuel’s side, a comforting, silky specter in her sensible slacks and snug white T-shirt. “Did you want to welcome everyone?”
They had discussed this in far more rational times.
Samuel glanced at his watch. It was time.
Looking out at the crowd, he had never felt more irritated. Here for the free booze and free food. A bored, stupid assortment of moneyed assholes completely of his father’s choosing.
Afterward, he couldn’t remember a single word of what he’d spoken. Some ripe bullshit about being honored by their presence and excited for their partnership.
At this point, he nodded to Charlotte, who came forward with a clipboard and pained grimace.
He knew she hated this.
Being the center of attention. Being forced to make announcements. To command the room.
Of course, that hadn’t stopped his father from putting Charlotte in any and every situation that required her to overcome this particular “character weakness.”
Noticing her distress, Samuel had been on the point of shouting the crowd down when Mason stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled in the eardrum-puncturing way he’d had when gathering his cronies across the high school courtyard.
“Hey!” Mason called when everyone had fallen silent. “This lovely lady needs your attention.”
Charlotte broke into a grateful smile as she blushed a deep rosy red.
Interesting.
“We have a total of twelve dune buggies,” Charlotte said, pointing to the row of red-and-black vehicles fitted out with flags bearing the Kane Foods’ logo for the occasion. “I’m going to read off the pairs of names. Please find your partner and choose your vehicle.”
Samuel had mostly tuned her out, draining the last of his champagne when she came to the final pair.
Mason Kane and Arlie Banks.
Which, of course, was exactly how Samuel had told her to set it up.
Mason and Arlie’s faces were mirror reflections of delighted surprise as they gave each other a high five. Together, they strolled down the line, stopping at the second-to-last buggy from the end.
After a brief but amicable exchange, it was Arlie, not Mason, who slid into the driver’s seat. Mason leaned forward, his forearm grazing across her breasts as he pointed out the various knobs and wheels.
Now Samuel didn’t just want to crush his glass. He wanted to chew it.
“GlowFit didn’t show,” Charlotte said, presenting her pen-scratched list to Samuel, who couldn’t seem to tear his attention away from his twin brother and Arlie buckling themselves in. “It looks like we have one dune buggy left over.”
“I’ll take it,” Samuel said.
Charlotte blinked at him, alarm in her eyes. “But you said you didn’t—”
“I changed my mind.” Sand shifting beneath his dress shoes, Samuel strode over to the unoccupied buggy, giving Mason a stiff nod as he passed. He settled himself into a leather seat warmed by the coastal sun, buckling his safety belt before reviewing the control panel.