Falling for You (2 page)

Panic welled at the thought of putting her dream down on paper for other people to scrutinize, but she let the sight of the house give her courage. “If I get one of those, a business plan, your father’s bank will loan me the money?”

“I didn’t say that.” He gave her an odd smile, partly amused, partly intrigued.

“Rory!” Bobby shouted from the boat. “Move your tail! We have a schedule to keep here.”

“I’m coming!” She gave Chance a pleading look. “I gotta go. I’ll come see you tomorrow. At the bank.” She grabbed his hand and gave it a good businesslike handshake. “We’ll talk more then.” Her voice floated behind her as she jogged down the path. “Oh, I can’t wait to get home and tell Adrian and Allison. They’re just gonna flip!”

“But—” Chance held out a hand as she dashed to the pier on long tanned legs, the wind plastering the white shirt to her tall, curvy body. He felt as if a whirlwind had just knocked him over as he watched her climb into the boat beside the muscle-bound driver. With a cheerful smile, she waved at him while the boat pulled away from the dock.

Chance returned the wave numbly as he willed his pulse to slow. Aurora St. Claire. Heaven help him and all mortal men, but didn’t the woman have a clue what that body, that face, and all that flame-bright hair could do to a man!

He shook his head hoping to clear it. It didn’t work. There was no shaking off the effect of Aurora. Once she bowled a guy over, he was down for life. Chance should know. He’d been in lust with the girl since he was a boy. Only, he wasn’t a boy any longer. And God have mercy, she definitely wasn’t a mere girl.

The ringing of the phone clipped to his belt brought him slowly out of his haze. “Yes, Chance speaking.”

“Oliver, where are you?” His father’s deep voice pricked a hole in Chance’s euphoria. “I expected you back at the bank an hour ago.”

“I know, I’m sorry, sir.” He glanced uneasily at the sign, wondering if his father had seen the paperwork on the foreclosure yet. Since his father sounded more curious than angry, he guessed not. “Brian had an... um... errand he wanted me to do.”

“Since when does the vice president of operations run errands for the loan department?” his father asked.

Since the bank was taken over by a bunch of out-of-town wimps who don’t have the guts to get between you and the new owners back East,
Chance thought bitterly. Although he couldn’t blame Brian Jeffries, the senior vice president of loans, for asking him to put up the For Sale sign. If anyone else did it, Chance’s father would fire the person on the spot for embarrassing the LeRoche family in so public a manner.

“Never mind,” his father sighed. “I was about to leave for the day and wanted to remind you about Paige’s welcome-home dinner tonight.”

“No need to remind me. I’m looking forward to it.” Chance smiled, thinking of Paige Baxter, the girl he intended to marry. Now that she had graduated from college and returned to the island, they could finally start dating in a more official manner. When summer was over, he’d ask her to marry him, they’d have a respectable engagement of six months or so, and marry next spring. He imagined his mother and Mrs. Baxter were already planning the wedding.

“We’ll expect you at the house by six-thirty, then?” his father said.

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there.” Hanging up, Chance felt his smile fade as the tension of the day settled back over his shoulders. He glanced at the cove and saw the tour boat had disappeared. Odd how the wind seemed calmer now. While Aurora had been there, the air had been charged with electricity as if lightning were about to strike.

He picked up his hammer and returned to pounding the sign into the ground. In the back of his mind he wondered if Aurora was serious about coming to see him at the bank. A smile tugged at his lips. Now wouldn’t that be a sight—Aurora St. Claire sweeping through the bank in a swirl of energy and light? He could almost see the portraits of the bank’s founders crashing to the marble floor of the lobby in her wake.

“Adrian! Alli!” Rory shouted as she burst into the small house in the historic district where she lived with her brother and sister. She’d run all the way from Pier Nineteen hoping to catch both of them at home.

Glancing at her watch, she saw it was five-thirty. Perfect. Her sister would be home from her job at the antiques shop and her brother had mentioned that morning that he’d be going in late today for his shift as assistant chef at Chez Laffite.

Sadie, her sister’s sable and white Sheltie, trotted in from the back of the house, swishing her sassy tail with glee.

“Hey, there, girl, where is everyone?” Rory asked as she obeyed Sadie’s demand for an ear scratch.

Sadie offered a happy bark that was no help at all. The front parlor was empty, except for the usual clutter. Old daguerreotypes vied for space on the walls with framed playbills, hand-tatted doilies graced the arms of their great-grandmother’s red velvet sofa, newspapers and novels sat in piles everywhere. The living room and front bedroom had once been the entire cottage, but more rooms had been added over the years.

With Sadie at her heels, Rory maneuvered past the piano stool through the dining room and bounded into the kitchen at the back of the house. “There you are!”

“Rory!” Allison turned from the counter with a start, a mixing bowl in hand. Soft black curls framed Allison’s delicate face and blue eyes. While Aurora had inherited their father’s height and their mother’s bright hair, Allison had the bones and coloring that spoke of their French lineage. “Must you always make a grand entrance? Can’t you simply arrive home quietly, like a normal person?”

“Of course not. I’m a Bouchard,” Rory said, claiming the maiden name of their famous ancestor. “Ooo, is that a chocolate cake you’re making?” She snitched a sample with her finger, barely escaping a swat from the handle of the wooden spoon.

“I hear Rory’s home.” Her brother entered the kitchen in her wake. He occupied the front bedroom since their aunt, “the Incomparable Vivian,” was starring in a long-running production of
Hello, Dolly!
on Broadway. The three of them had moved in with Aunt Viv after their parents died in a car wreck while touring with a theater troupe when Rory was a toddler.

“I trust you have dinner under control,” Adrian said as he came forward to sniff the steam rising from a pot on the stove. Wearing a white chef’s jacket, he looked wickedly handsome with his black ponytail and gold earring. Wrinkling his nose, he pinched a bay leaf from the bundles of herbs hanging overhead and tossed it into the pot.

“Go away, Adrian.” Allison bumped him aside with her hip as she continued to stir her cake batter. “That’s my leftover gumbo you’re messing with.”

“And I’ll say what I said on Saturday. It needs more filé.”

“It does not,” Allison protested.

“Guys!” Rory interrupted before they launched into a full-blown argument about cooking filled with French passion and offended egos. “You’ll never guess what I found out today.”

“What’s that?” Adrian said as he reached over Allison’s head toward the spice rack.

“I’m warning you, Adrian.” Allison clutched her wooden spoon like a sword. “Stay away from my gumbo. Unless you want to go back to doing all the cooking around here.”

“No, no, you’re doing a fine job,” he hastened to say, even as he added a pinch of spice to the pot.

“Would y’all listen?” Rory pleaded. “This is really big news. The old mansion on Pearl Island is for sale!”

Adrian and Allison both went still. In concert, they turned to face her.

“You’re joking, right?” her brother said.

“No, I’m serious. There was a For Sale sign posted and everything.”

“Well,” Allison said, “there’s obviously been some sort of mistake. We all know the LeRoche family would never sell the house, even though they moved out of it years ago. As long as Marguerite’s spirit is trapped inside, they’ll keep it. ‘The Pearl’ is their good-luck charm. Whether that’s true or not, whether there’s even a ghost or not, is beside the point. All that matters is that the LeRoches believe it.”

“Maybe it is true,” Adrian said. “I mean, you have to admit, they’ve certainly led charmed lives when it comes to making money.”

Allison shrugged. “Too bad their personal lives aren’t as successful.” While the LeRoche family no longer lived in Galveston year round, they maintained a beach house and were a favorite topic of gossip—not just locally but in newspapers and tabloids nationwide.

“I, for one, would pick happy over rich any day,” Allison said.

“Well, there is that,” Adrian agreed.

“Wait a second.” Rory waved a hand to get their attention. “I didn’t say John LeRoche was selling the house voluntarily. The First Bank of Galveston foreclosed on the property,” she said. Even though the bank had changed its name to Liberty Union National Bank when it changed owners, all the locals still called it by its original name. “John LeRoche has already lost Pearl Island.”

“The First Bank of Galveston foreclosed on John LeRoche?” Adrian’s laugh rumbled forth. “Yeah, right, sis. Now I know you’re pulling our leg. Nice try, though.”

“No, I’m telling y’all, it’s true. Don’t you see? This is our big chance.”

“Big chance for what?” Her brother gave the pot of rice an experimental jiggle.

Looking from her brother’s bored face to her sister’s worried one, she realized she’d gotten ahead of herself. “If y’all would come sit down for just a minute.” She took the mixing bowl away from Allison and put it on the chopping block that sat in the middle of the room beneath an assortment of hanging pots.

“Rory!” Allison protested, holding her hand under the spoon to catch any drips.

“Just for a minute.” She took the spoon and put it in the bowl. “This is important. Really.”

Her brother checked his watch to see how much time he had before he needed to leave for work. With a shrug, he joined them at the breakfast table. The open windows that overlooked the small backyard let in the salty smell of Galveston Bay.

Once they were seated, Rory took a deep breath and wondered where to begin. The dreams that crowded her mind had been there so long, she feared they’d come spilling out in a jumbled mess the second she started speaking.

“Okay.” She exhaled. “I have an idea. Actually, it’s something I’ve thought about forever, but I never mentioned it because it didn’t seem possible. Then I saw that sign today and I knew this was
it
—our big chance!”

“Our big chance for what, Rory?” Allison sighed.

Rory placed her hands palms-down on the table. “What would y’all think about opening a bed-and-breakfast?”

They both stared at her. Even Sadie cocked her head to the side.

“On Pearl Island?” her brother asked at last.

“Yes.” Rory sucked in air and felt as if she would float right off the ground. “What could be more perfect, since the place should rightfully have been ours anyway? But that’s beside the point. With its history and setting, people would come from all over to stay there. We could even offer scuba diving in the cove so guests could go down and see the old shipwreck. Adrian”—she reached out and took his hand—“you could be in charge of the cooking. And Allison”—she took her sister’s hand—“with your knowledge of antiques and flare for decorating, you could handle the remodeling. Maybe even open your own gift shop in the parlor.”

“But Rory,” Allison said, “who would run the inn?”

“I would.” Rory saw doubt enter their eyes and sat back. “All right, I’ll admit I’m not the most business-minded person, but we could hire a bookkeeper to help out with that and I’d handle the guests.” The skeptical looks grew deeper. “Come on, you have to admit you’d love to own your own business. Adrian, you wouldn’t have to put up with the head chef’s egomaniacal tantrums anymore. You could cook what you wanted, be the king of your own kitchen. And Alli, aren’t you tired of getting paid slave wages while making the owners of the Strand Emporium rich?”

Adrian and Allison looked at each other, then back at her. “There’s just one problem with your plan,” Adrian said. “We’d have to buy the place and restore it, which will likely cost a fortune, not to mention the other expenses involved in starting a business. I’m not sure we have that kind of money.”

“We have the money from Mom and Dad’s life insurance,” Rory pointed out.

“Which might cover the purchase price,” Adrian said, “if we manage to get the property at a steal, but it won’t come close to covering the rest.”

“Then we’ll take out a business loan,” Rory offered. “I already talked to Oliver Chancellor about it today.”

“Oliver Chancellor?” Allison’s eyes widened. “Of the banking Chancellors? You talked to a banker about this?”

“He was on Pearl Island, putting up the foreclosure sign,” Rory explained. “That’s how I found out about it.”

“And he agreed to give you a loan, just like that?” Adrian snapped his fingers.

“No, of course not,” she said. “But I bet he’ll help us apply for one.”

Adrian smirked. “Of course he will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rory straightened.

He gestured toward her wild hair, tall body, and long legs exposed by her shorts. “Any male between puberty and senility generally agrees to give you anything.”

“It’s not like that.” Rory rolled her eyes. “Oliver Chancellor isn’t interested in me.”
Good grief
, she thought. They were so far apart socially, they might as well come from different planets.

Adrian gave her a pointed look. “You think just because he’s a scrawny geek he’s not interested in girls?”

“He’s not scrawny.” She frowned at her brother.

“But he is a geek,” Adrian pointed out.

“Well, yeah,” she admitted as she pictured Chance standing before her in his button-down dress shirt and wire-rimmed glasses. “I guess. But in a cute sort of way.”

“Oh, Rory,” Allison sighed. “Don’t do this to the poor guy. I remember him from school. He always seemed so nice.”

“Do what to him?” Rory asked.

“Break his heart,” Allison said. “Like you do all the boys.”

“I do not.” Rory snorted. Why did Adrian and Allison always accuse her of leading men around as if they were love-sick puppies? True, men in general tended to be nice to her, but that was because she was a friendly person, not because of how she looked. Sure, she was attractive—she’d have to be an idiot not to know
that
—but she didn’t come close to Allison’s fragile beauty. With a wave of her hand, she brushed the nonsense aside. “Do you think we could get back to the real subject here, which is the fact that Pearl Island is for sale?
If
we’re interested.”

Her brother shook his head. “Rory, I realize you are the original sunshine girl, but this idea is a bit far-fetched, even for you. No banker in his right mind is going to loan us the kind of money it would take to buy an entire island so we can open a bed-and-breakfast.”

“Well, it never hurts to ask,” Rory said.

“Rory.” Allison gave her fingers a squeeze. “It’s not that simple.”

“How do we know—if we don’t even try?”

Adrian cocked a brow at Allison. “She’s right, you know.”

“Adrian!” Allison scolded. “Don’t encourage her.”

“I’m just saying she’s right. We don’t know if we can or can’t do anything unless we look into it.”

“Then we’ll do it?” Rory brightened. “Together?”

“We didn’t say that.” Allison frowned at both of them.

“But you won’t get mad if I go down to the bank tomorrow and talk to Chance about it.”

“Do we have a choice?” Allison asked.

“Of course you do,” Rory insisted. “If you don’t want this dream, then what’s the use of me pursuing it? I don’t want to push you into anything. This is something we do together, for ourselves, or not at all. So, what do you say?”

Allison looked to their brother. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look into it.”

“Are you kidding?” A devilish smile broke over Adrian’s face. “I’d kill to be in charge of my own kitchen. But Rory, I’m warning you not to get your hopes up. This is a one-in-a-million shot we’re talking about here.”

“I know,” she said. “But one in a million is better than nothing.”

He hesitated a moment before nodding. “All right.” Rising, he ruffled her hair. “You go for it, sis. In the meantime, I’m off to work.”

“Thanks, Adrian,” she called to him as he left the kitchen. Squeezing her sister’s hand, she added, “Something good is going to come of this. I can just feel it!”

Her sister looked less than convinced.

~ ~ ~

Chance welcomed the strong breeze as he stepped out onto his parents’ back deck. Worries over the LeRoche foreclosure had kept him on edge all evening, in spite of the good food and familiar company. He took a deep breath, willing his shoulders to relax.

An occasional light or sound of laughter came from the decks of neighboring houses along the golf course. Moonlight silvered the country club grounds, and in the distance the pulse of the gulf beat against miles of sandy beaches.

“Oh, I have missed this,” Paige sighed as she joined him at the rail. “There’s no place in the world that feels quite like Galveston. It’s as if the very air holds magic.”