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“Your sister called,” Vicki said. “I said you’d get back to her.”
He picked up the phone as Vicki walked out, closing the door quietly behind her.
He dialed his sister. Evelyn answered on the first ring as though she’d been standing right next to the phone.
“It’s Daddy. He’s lost his mind.”
Jake’s first thought was that his widowed father had run off with a twenty-year-old bimbo. Not that his father was easily led, but a pretty woman was a pretty woman, and he’d been a widower for a long time. “What’s going on?”
“He’s decided he’s not selling the park and is going to renovate instead. He’s already been to the bank and gotten a loan.”
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. He and his father had talked about this. John Walters had inherited his family’s orange groves and had proceeded to turn them into an amusement park. With the downturn in the economy, the park had been suffering until Jake had finally convinced his father to sell to developers who’d been trying to get their hands on the property for nearly ten years.
“Did you hear me, Jake?” Evelyn asked, her voice sharp.
“I’m trying to pretend this is just a bad dream, but I heard you.”
“He’s turning his nose up at thirty million dollars,” Evelyn huffed. “And he’s planning some huge Christmas extravaganza to reopen the park with and has hired some woman, a has-been child actress to do the decorations at an obscene salary. She’s going to bankrupt him. Probably trying to bankroll her comeback.”
“That’s Dad’s decision,” Jake said calmly, though he agreed with his sister. Thirty million dollars was a lot of money to turn down to keep an aging amusement park open.
“I beg your pardon?” Evelyn asked, almost angrily.
“He doesn’t need the money,” Jake said. Jake’s father had been his first client. Originally his mother had handled the finances, but when she’d passed away, Jake had taken over even though he had only been sixteen. Jake had found he was good at handling money, and by the time he’d graduated high school he’d known exactly what he was going to do for a living.
“That’s not the point,” Evelyn replied. “He’s sixty-seven years old and should be sailing off into the sunset with one of his, you know, one of his honeys. He should be enjoying life instead of being at the park from six in the morning until midnight. He works too hard. He should be enjoying his retirement.”
“So you think Dad should sail off into the sunset with some gold digger?” The image amused Jake. While his father enjoyed the charms of the opposite sex, he wasn’t about to ask one on a cruise or be swayed to give her money.
“As if you’d let anyone touch his money,” Evelyn scoffed.
Jake said nothing as his thoughts raced. His father was of sound mind and body. And even though Jake had argued for the sale, he’d seen that his father was torn. On one hand, the amusement park was a family legacy, but on the other hand, it was a lot to take care of.
“What are you going to do?” Evelyn asked.
“Nothing.” He was disappointed in his father’s decision but not terribly surprised. His father was having a hard time letting go of his family’s heritage. Family meant a lot to John Walters.
“But...”
“Sis,” Jake interrupted, “the property belongs to him, and he’s of sound mind.”
“We all agreed he would sell. He sat at the dinner table with us and listened to our arguments and agreed with everything we said. My God, if he’s going to keep that damn park, my son is going to want to work there again. He’s already talking about skipping college and working for his grandpa, ruining his entire future.”
“He’ll change his mind.” He loved his sister. Evelyn had worked hard to get her doctorate in physics. She now taught at Cal State, San Bernardino and was on track to head the department.
Evelyn ground her teeth in frustration. “Can’t we go to court and stop him somehow?”
“Do you really want to try to have our father declared incompetent?”
A strangled sob came to him through the phone. “No, I guess not. It’s not your kids he’s filling with ideas that life is an amusement park and a little orange marmalade on sourdough toast will solve everything.”
Jake half smiled. His father had tried to sell him and Evelyn the same dream, but they hadn’t been converted.
“I’ll talk to him,” Jake promised, and ended the call.
He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window at the cloudless, blue Los Angeles sky. In the distance he could see the huge Hollywood Hills sign. One of the reasons he’d taken this spot was because he loved looking at the sign.
Evelyn was right; the man had lost his mind. Jake had spent six months putting the sale together, and his father was supposed to take the money and relax for the rest of his life. What had happened? He reached for the phone, intending to call his father, but then decided maybe a trip to Riverside would be better.
Chapter 2
Merry stood in the center of her new office looking around. The room was a bit dingy, with gray paint on the walls, limp blinds on the windows and a battered desk, but she’d fix that with a little paint. A worktable was pushed against one wall, angled to catch the light from the window. The desk was a little battered, but Merry was a master at making old things look new again. Her whole house was a testament to her ability to take anything and make it look fresh and inviting.
She opened a box and started rummaging through it. Christmas lights spilled out. She found her electronic Santa Claus and hugged it. Her father had given it to her for her birthday. One of the things she’d hated as a child had been the fact she’d been born on Christmas, but her mother had solved the dilemma and celebrated her birthday on July 25. But that didn’t stop her father from giving her Christmas-themed gifts. As an airline pilot, he traveled the world and often brought back unique items for Merry and her sister.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
The door opened and John Walters walked in. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a round face, close-cropped gray hair already turning white and twinkling brown eyes. “Are you decorating for Christmas already? It’s August.”
“Getting in the mood,” she answered. She placed the Santa on the corner of her desk and plugged it in. “And looking for inspiration. I don’t have a lot of time to plan the Christmas decorations and get them up for your grand reopening.” John wanted to open the day after Thanksgiving and she had a lot of work to do. She pressed the button on the Santa and “Jingle Bell Rock” blared out at her. She grinned, suddenly feeling happier than she had since she’d made her decision to leave the safety of the Chapman Brothers theme park.
She’d always have a job with them, but accepting John’s offer gave her a new opportunity to shine. She didn’t want to play second banana anymore. She wanted more.
The song ended and John grinned at her. He looked into the box and pulled out another package of Christmas lights. “This is a good start.”
“Since you’re here, would you like to see my preliminary sketches?” She walked over to her worktable and turned on the light. She’d spent the past week measuring the park, the footprints of the different rides, the pathways between them and the orange trees that dotted the park. From that she’d worked up a blueprint that gave her an aerial view, though she was going to need more detail. She flipped open her notebook. “I’ve done four themes for you,” she said. “Christmas in California is the first one.”
John nodded as he glanced at the large drawing. She’d drawn a schematic diagram of the park, highlighting each section. John’s original concept for his park had been to showcase the variety of activities Southern California had to offer. The Los Angeles area had its own unique activities. A person could spend the morning at the beach, then the afternoon skiing in the mountains or looking at the stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. John had tried to integrate those ideas into his park. Merry had to figure out how to layer a Christmas theme over the different sections and keep it cohesive with the original concept. She’d worked out four different ideas she thought could work. “I like this,” John said, pointing at her first idea of implementing the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. She’d decorated the orange trees with lights and added some gift boxes with large bows to the base of a tree. She’d sketched in various L.A. landmarks, such as the Hollywood sign, in various places near the different rides.
“This is a Currier and Ives Christmas,” she said, turning the page to show him the next one.
He glanced at the sleigh pulled by reindeer and nodded slightly. Another scene showed singers dressed in nineteenth-century garb. The third scene was a fireplace with stockings hanging from it and the fourth was a cute display of a Christmas tree lit up and decorated with bows.
“I’m not sure about this one,” John said.
She showed him the third idea, Christmas Around the World, and he disliked it immediately. The fourth theme, Hollywood Christmas, was a series of scenes from different Christmas movies.
“That’s a strong possibility,” John said, but he turned back to the first one. “I think this is the one to go with. I love the Hollywood Christmas, but Christmas in California is more accessible to children.”
“Okay, then,” she said with a smile. Christmas in California was her favorite, too. She wondered if she could convince her mother or her sister to make a stained glass Christmas tree for the entrance.
“I’m glad you’re here,” John said.
“Me, too,” Merry said. She folded the rejected drawings and started making mental lists in her head. “I think my budget will just cover all of this.” If she were really, really careful. Luckily her mother had taught her to pinch a penny until it turned into a quarter.
“Good. Get going.”
After John left, she found herself wandering out into the park, seeing it in her mind’s eye and planning the different areas. With the park empty, she could visualize the different sections and what they would look like. The Chapman Brothers theme park was never empty. Visitors thronged the park during the day, and the cleanup and maintenance crews worked at night.
* * *
Jake stood off to the side in the shade of an orange tree, watching the former child actress as she walked around the park. She wore jeans, a white T-shirt and sneakers. Curly black hair hung down to her shoulders. Her skin was the color of caramel cream, and she looked very intense as she held a notebook in her hand. Every few feet she’d stop and write something in the notebook. Then she’d turn her head first one way then another as she studied what she was looking at. Then she’d write in her notebook again and move forward a few more feet.
She was cute in a waiflike manner with slightly tilted dark eyes and smiling mouth. He remembered her from Maddie’s Mad World. He’d loved the show when he was a kid and had had a bit of a crush on Maddie’s best friend, Chloe, as played by Meredith Alcott. And seeing Chloe in the flesh made his fingers tingle while a little shiver walked up and down his spine.
His phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the display. He had to answer this one.
“Jake Walters,” he said, and braced himself.
“You said your father was ready to sell,” Harry Constantine said angrily. “What’s going on, Walters? Did he have a better offer that I don’t know about?”
Actually, Jake had had a number of offers once the word had gotten out his dad was thinking of selling, but he wasn’t about to tell Constantine that. “I’m sorry, Mr. Constantine, but he just doesn’t want to part with the park yet.”
“My partners and I are deeply annoyed at this interruption to the deal.”
“There hasn’t been a deal yet. The property belongs to my father, sir,” Jake said stiffly, wondering why Constantine thought he was going to be the one. “He doesn’t have to sell if that is his decision.”
“I wasted months of my time putting this offer together and getting investors. And now he decides he doesn’t want to sell! That property is ready to be developed. There are five new housing projects in development in that area. Does he want more money? I’ll toss another million on the pile.”
“Money isn’t the issue, sir.” Jake wanted to be polite to this man, but his normal level of diplomacy was quickly becoming strained.
“I’ve wanted to purchase this property for ten years,” Harry said, his voice rising.
“Sir, I apologize for my father, but he changed his mind and that is his prerogative. Since no papers have been signed, he can do that.”
“I’m talking to my lawyers.” Constantine disconnected and Jake found himself listening to dead air.
That didn’t go well, he thought. He wondered who would be calling next. Probably Alicia Mortensen at Kessler Investments. She and her investors had made an offer, as well. Alicia was a predator and a longtime rival of Constantine. Jake didn’t want to think about all the people his father had probably antagonized because of his decision. So he went back to watching the actress. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that he doubted she’d even noticed him.
He finally found himself walking up to her. She looked up at his approach and his head did a little lurch inside his chest. She’d been pretty as a teenager, but she was beautiful now. Beautiful in a way that took his breath away. She was petite, maybe an inch or two over five feet, and had a trim, slender figure with curves in all the right places. Her face was long and a bit narrow, framed by shoulder-length black hair with a hint of curl. Her mouth was bold and pouty, and her brown eyes were intense with a fire that took his breath away.
He wondered what kind of a person she was. In his mind, actors had such fragile egos. He figured he could intimidate the hell out of her and she’d back off. Maybe even quit, and then Jake could talk to his father again. Before he had a chance to say anything, his phone rang again. He glanced at the display. “Ah, Alicia Mortensen.” He sent the call to voice mail. He would deal with her later.
He walked right up to the actress, and before he could open his mouth, she smiled at him and he found himself speechless, caught up in her hypnotizing beauty. He felt like a gulping fish.
“Hi.” A light breeze fluttered the tips of her curly black hair. Up close, her brown eyes had the tiniest bit of green in them.
“You must be Chloe.” That was original.
Her eyebrows went up in surprise. “I think you have me confused with the name of the character I played on Maddie’s Mad World.” Her voice was sultry and low. “My name is Merry. Meredith Alcott.”
“I know,” Jake replied, chagrined at his mistake. “I’ve always wondered what child actors did after they retired.”
“Some of us get jobs, some of us go into rehab, some of us just drop out of sight,” she replied sweetly.
“I’m glad you’re not in rehab.” That sounded pretty foolish. He couldn’t come up with something better?
“Me, too,” she said.
“How are you planning to separate my old man from his money?”
Her eyebrows rose and she chuckled. “You must be Jake. Your sister was a bit more subtle than you.” She studied him for a second and then stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”
Was that sarcasm? He opened his mouth to say something. Again, nothing came out. Apparently she wasn’t threatened by him, or by his sister, and Evelyn was a bulldozer. So much for her being a frail, fragile actress. She watched him, her jaw set in determination and a look in her eyes that told him there was nothing frail or fragile about her. He looked down at her hand and saw ink smudged on two fingers. She had beautiful hands, with long, slender fingers and nails buffed to shine. He took her hand and shook it, surprised at the firmness of her grip and the softness of her skin. For a moment, wild thoughts chased themselves through his mind until he pushed them away.
“Um,” he said. “Likewise.” She wasn’t going to rabbit on him, so what was step number two? He should have planned this better.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and spend your dad’s money.” She turned on her heel and walked away, her head held high.
Jake stared after her. What the hell had just happened? That petite woman had just put him in his place.
His phone rang and he retrieved it from the holder on his belt. He glanced at the caller ID. Mel Vaughn, one of his particularly difficult clients.
He answered the call. “Mel.” Jake closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m buying my child’s mother a car,” Mel launched into his pitch. “I found this hot Ferrari that would be perfect for me—I mean her.”
“And where would she put a kid’s car seat?” Jake asked. He’d signed off on a SUV.
“Hey, man, the Ferrari is perfect.”
“I said you could buy a minivan or an SUV.”
“Minivans aren’t sexy,” Mel whined.
And being in debt to your hairline is? “I signed off on thirty thousand for a car. You have to stick with your budget.”
“I can’t think about a budget,” Mel whined again. “Have a heart.”
Mel Vaughn was twenty-six years old, but he was acting like a child. When he’d hit bankruptcy, the court had appointed Jake to unravel his finances. Now Mel wanted a Ferrari when he still owed the IRS a chunk of change.
Jake leaned against a fence as he watched Merry measure the diameter of a small children’s ride. Every time she bent over to measure something, his pulse leaped into overdrive.
“Mel,” Jake said patiently. “You can’t buy a Ferrari until after you pay the IRS your back taxes. If you buy a Ferrari after the deal I brokered for you with the IRS, they’ll come after you.”
“How are they going to find out?”
The first thing Mel would do was tweet his purchase, post a picture on his Instagram account and announce it on his Facebook page. “Do you think a high-profile case like yours isn’t going to be scrutinized? People care about what you do, Mel. And trust me, the IRS monitors everything. The purchase of a Ferrari will not stay a secret for long.”
“How am I going to explain it to her?” Mel asked, his whining going up a notch.
“Have her call me. I’ll be the bad guy.”
“But she’s got her heart set on this Ferrari.”
“Then she can pay for it. Thirty grand is all you’re getting. Because thirty grand is all you have to spare. You’re barely swimming above water, Mel.” Mel was starting his career all over again. “No Ferrari,” Jake said flatly. “Don’t ask me again.” He disconnected, not wanting to hear Mel continue to beg.
