It wasn't until we sat at a private table on the resort's patio, overlooking Monterey Bay, that something else my mother said came back to me. What if Corsica was just a gold-digger?
Behind her, a tableful of tourists snapped discreet pictures of me. I was, after all, the founder and face of the top outdoor sports equipment company.
GoGreen's combination of sustainability, innovation, and focus on simplicity was a lethal business plan in an overblown industry. It didn't hurt that the outreach programs I headed made great headlines. It also didn't hurt that my company had just been listed as worth over one billion dollars.
How could Corsica not know who I was? I wondered.
Sure, she didn't look like the outdoorsy type. And I knew she had focused entirely on her studies while in college. Still, it seemed strange that she didn't realize I was Penn Templeton. Had she never heard of GoGreen? It was a national chain and still expanding.
The thought stuck with me, and I decided to turn down the spa treatments and see how Corsica reacted.
"It's such a nice day. Who wants to be stuck in a candlelit room?" she asked. "You know, I've never been on 17 Mile Drive. Want to go?"
I nodded to the blank-faced, professional driver my father had hired. He whisked us along the coast highway and into the curves that were dotted with stunning mansions and overlooks. Corsica was pressed to the window, ignoring the crashing sprays of the coastline and drooling over the showplace houses.
"Can you imagine people actually live in those?" Then she laughed out loud. "What am I saying? You live in a place like these, but can you imagine being able to pick one out and just buy it?"
"Is that what you want to be able to do?"
"That would be great," Corsica said.
"So, you're really just interested in the things that money can buy, like houses?"
She brushed her honeyed hair back and turned to look at me. "I grew up in a tiny, one-story box that people told me was a two-bedroom house. My window opened on the garage. The only thing my mother could see from her bed was the clothesline."
There was a flash of pain there that I hadn't expected. "Sorry, I just felt a little used."
"What?" Corsica's horrified shock was real.
I held up both hands to calm her. "I've been pursued before, not for my stunning good looks, but for my connection to Xavier Templeton," I explained.
Corsica relaxed against the leather car seat. "I do like the way he plays the piano," she said.
I laughed, relieved. "Most women see the fact that he is a multi-billionaire and then decide I'm attractive."
Her smile was sympathetic for a brief moment, and then it curled into a grin. "Yeah, I still haven't decided if you're attractive or not. Though, I like the trimmed beard."
I fingered the new, shorter shape of my beard. All I could think about was rubbing it against her bare, pearly skin. "So, it's my beard you're after, not just my connection to the very, very rich?"
Corsica laughed and swatted at my shoulder. "Sorry, but your mother is actually more of a draw."
"After
she tortured you around the campfire?"
"It's been a while since I had a mother challenging my every thought. Alice is inspiring."
My heart knocked against my rib cage. "Why don't we stop here and get some fresh air? There's a great hidden beach just down there."
Corsica looked at the steep path as the driver swept into the next pull-out and parked. "Thank God I'm dressed for horseback riding and not brunch," she joked.
Despite her more sensible shoes, Corsica still slipped and shuffled on the rough dirt trail. On the last drop down to the beach, she let out a shriek and stumbled right into my arms. I caught her and wondered if birthday wishes really came true.
"Sorry," she giggled, her breasts pressed to my chest. "I didn't mean to scream and cause a scene."
"What scene? Hidden beaches are good for privacy."
She pushed back my nibbling kisses and pointed. "I think those people might know you," Corsica said.