Platinum Promises
Dexter smiled at the mention of his cousin, Warren Drake, part of the clan formerly known as the Drakes of Louisiana. Several years ago, four of the six brothers in that family had relocated to Northern California, when gold had been discovered on land that had been in their family for decades. The siblings had incorporated the land, founded a town and were soon movers and shakers in Paradise Valley, California. Most of the Drakes of Louisiana were now the Drakes of California, just like their cousins. They were also smart and shrewd with business savvy, which is why Donovan was meeting with Warren—to expand their businesses and their brands.
They exited the hotel. “So...what does your friend look like?” Dexter asked. “Is she fine?”
Marissa gave Dexter the side eye. “You are not interested. She has four children.”
“Whoa!”
“Ha! Thought that would make you put that player card back in your pocket. Everyone knows you’re allergic to kids.”
“That’s not true. Kids are cool...as long as they’re not mine.”
“So everything is set for Papa Dee’s party?” Marissa asked, clearly not up for a debate on the value of anyone’s next generation and changing the subject to prove it.
Dexter nodded. “Because of the RSVPs and sold-out rooms, we had to expand the menu, but I consider that a good problem to have. They are working hard to make sure his favorite dishes are executed to perfection.”
“What about the cake?”
“That’s being done by an outside company, one that specializes in imaging. It will feature a picture of Papa, set against a vineyard backdrop, with one hundred candles lighting the way from the countryside to the hotel.”
“Wow. Papa Dee is turning one hundred years old. I can’t even imagine what it will feel like to be in this crazy world another seventy years.”
“I can’t imagine it either,” Dexter said. “But I hope I get to experience it.” They reached his car. “Where are you parked?”
“Not far.”
“You want to ride to the house with me and join us for dinner, since Don is acting like the workaholic that he is?”
“Thanks, Dexter, but no. I think I’ll head on home and make dinner for two.”
“Listen to you sounding all domesticated.”
“Marriage will do that to you,” Marissa said with a laugh. “You ought to try it.”
“Naw, I’m good.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. You saw what happened to the last woman who tried to tie me down.”
“I sure did, but I respect Maria. You can’t be mad at a woman in her thirties who doesn’t want to continue dating—” Marissa used air quotes “—for the next ten years.”
Dexter opened his car door. “On that female-biased note, I’m out.”
“Ha! Whatever.”
“I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.”
“See you.”
Dexter slid into the soft leather seat of his latest toy and made the five-minute trip from the boutique hotel that anchored the resort to the Drake estate to have dinner with his parents. On the way, he thought about what Marissa had said. In two short years both of his older siblings had found their true loves and married them. As a result, his sister, Diamond, had blossomed into an even more beautiful and confident woman with a child on the way, and his brother, Donovan, was happier than Dexter had ever remembered.
“But that’s not you, man,” Dexter said aloud as he pulled into the circular drive of the family home, where he still lived. “There are too many clusters on the vine for you to be satisfied with just one grape.”
Chapter 4
Faye was startled awake, this time by her ringing cell phone. She looked at the clock on her nightstand in amazement, checked that time against what was shown on her watch. What had been intended as a five-minute nap before ordering room service had turned into the first seven uninterrupted hours of sleep she’d had in a very long time. Before, when she’d worked in Africa, and for the past three years that she’d spent in Haiti, four to five hours of sleep per night was the norm, six or seven a luxury. She yawned, stretched and reached for her phone, smiling as she rapidly typed out a text to Ian:
I called and left a message, but here’s a text as well. The brochures don’t do it justice, Doctor! This place is more beautiful than I could have imagined. I plan to enjoy every minute here, and will call you tomorrow. Again, thanks so much.
Eleven-thirty here, Faye thought. That means it’s two-thirty in Haiti. Faye wanted to talk to her best friend, Adeline Marceaux, a native who served as director of Haitian Heartbeats, the organization through which many doctors, including Faye, had entered the country following a devastating earthquake. “She might be up, but I shouldn’t chance it,” Faye said to herself. I’ll just call her tomorrow.
As she placed the phone on the nightstand, it rang. “I don’t believe it!” she exclaimed, looking at the number. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was a bit distorted. Faye pressed the phone against her ear, trying to hear more clearly. “Addie?”
“Faye! Can you hear me?”
“Yes! It’s a little scratchy, but that’s okay.”
“Hold on a minute.” Faye heard a rustling sound, a closing door and then Adeline’s voice, loud and clear.
“Is this better?”
“I can hear you just fine. Girl, you are going to live a long time,” Faye said, a phrase she’d heard the islanders use when someone you were just thinking about got in touch. “I just thought about calling you but figured it was too late.”
“You know how it is—our work is never done.”
“Where are you?”
“Home, now. We just returned from the backcountry,” Adeline explained in the lyrical accent that Faye adored. “Delivering food, water and emergency supplies to some families there. The rains are supposed to begin tomorrow in earnest. We wanted to make sure these provisions were delivered before the roads washed out.”
“I miss Haiti already and wish I were there to help.”
“Don’t worry about us. You are exactly where you need to be, which I assume is the resort. Did you arrive safely?”
“I did.” Faye described what she had seen so far.
“Sounds lovely. Reminds me of a hotel I visited in Saint Thomas.”
Faye stood and began meandering around the room as she talked. “What about the new volunteers? Was their plane able to land?”
“Yes, and you’d like them. One is from Sweden, the grandson of one of Dr. Ian’s friends. The other is a young medical student from Nigeria. Brilliant. Lots of ideas that he learned while helping orphans in the Sudan.”
“Sounds like the kind of help I could use at my clinic.”
“Perhaps. But you’re not supposed to be thinking about work right now. You’re supposed to be relaxing and taking advantage of the amenities that I’m sure are at your fingertips.”
“I know. I’ll try. But I’m so excited about how plans for the clinic are coming together, even though there is still so much to do. The contractor we hired for renovations fell through. He has to be replaced ASAP. Then there are the in-person interviews with the candidates honed from the online résumés received, meetings with the public relations firm and prepping for the benefit fundraiser. Through the churches, shelters and other organizations working with the clinic, there are already almost a hundred children to be screened. I can already use another doctor on board and the nursing staff—”
“Faye!” Adeline’s voice was loud and firm.
“I know,” Faye said with a self-conscious chuckle. “I should be relaxing.” She noticed an envelope that had been slid under the door, and picked it up. “But it’s so hard to turn off, you know?”
“You are a compassionate, dedicated doctor. You give and give until there is nothing left. Now is your time, Faye. For the next week, be a little selfish. Pamper yourself. Get a massage, a mani/pedi...find a cute guy who can knock the cobwebs out of those seldom-used girlie parts.”
“Seriously, Adeline! You did not just go there.”
“Ha! I most certainly did. You’ve gone far too long without the love of a man. It’s time for you to get back in the dating game and find someone to make you happy.”
“I’m already happy,” Faye murmured, opening the
elegant-looking linen envelope and pulling out the gold-embossed card.
“Then find someone with whom to share that happiness. Go flirt with a man, girl!”
A vision immediately came to mind—the man from the lobby, the man of her dreams. The man who was last seen kissing a beautiful woman, Faye. Don’t forget that.
“Faye, are you listening?”
“Actually, I was reading an invitation from the resort. It must have been placed under my door while I napped.”
“What does it say?”
“It says...
Drake Wines Resort and Spa invites you to join in the celebration of its founder, David “Papa Dee” Drake, Sr., as he marks his 100th birthday!
When: Friday, August 8, @ 5:00 p.m.
Where: Gardens of the South Lawn
There will be food, fun and, of course, Southern California’s finest wines!
RSVP recommended, but not required.”
“There you go, girl,” Adeline squealed, the smile in her voice reaching through the phone. “An invitation to a party. Perfect! Go and buy yourself something sexy, put on some heels and flirt with every man in the room. Have some fun, Doctor. That’s an order!”
After ending the call, Faye ordered from the twenty-four-hour room service menu. Thirty minutes later she enjoyed an all-American hamburger and fries, washing it down with a classic cola. She turned on the television and tried to focus on an over-the-top show about hip-hop artists in Atlanta, Georgia, and the women who loved them. Her eyes were on the screen, but her thoughts were on cobwebs, girlie parts, one certain businessman...and a dream.
Chapter 5
Because of the long nap, it had been almost 3 a.m. before Faye had settled into slumber. She woke up, sat up against the headboard and looked around. It was ten o’clock in the morning and she had no patients to see, no chores to do, no visits to make to tent villages and no idea what one did with idle time. It occurred to her that because her job was also her passion, she’d not taken a true vacation in almost five years. What do people do all day when they have nothing to do? She eyed the remote on the nightstand next to her, picked it up and turned on the large, flat-screen TV. After watching the infomercial on Drake Wines, she flipped through the channels. Five minutes and she knew that watching actors she did not know and shows she did not understand would not be how she spent her spare time. She turned off the television and tossed down the remote. Now what?
She looked around the luxurious, perfectly appointed room. Her eye landed on the envelope with You’re invited across the front. “The party,” she murmured, picking up the card once again. Maybe I should take Addie’s advice and attend. But what would I wear? After several years in Africa, and three years in Haiti, her wardrobe had been reduced to khakis, jeans and one simple black dress that she’d worn to the rare formal dinner. Go and buy yourself something sexy, put on some heels and flirt with every man in the room. “Addie is right. I should try and have fun.” That decided, Faye scheduled a massage, a mani/pedi and an appointment at the salon, then ordered a rental car through the concierge. By the time she showered, dressed and did a quick online search, her car was downstairs. With one last look around the room she headed to the elevators, reached the shiny rental, programmed the car’s GPS and set out for something she hadn’t seen in about a year—a shopping mall.
As she listened to the female voice of the GPS telling her to turn left and right, she continued thinking about her conversation with Adeline about her love life. Or, more correctly, her lack thereof. During high school she’d been a bookworm and a loner with no real friends. That changed in college when she found herself surrounded by people who were as geeky as she was, who felt that devouring books and obsessing over studying were the most natural things to do in the world. That’s where she’d met Jesse, a biochemical major. They dated until she began med school. He took a high-paying job in Alaska. Their romance couldn’t survive the distance.
It was all about the career until the Peace Corps, where she’d met Phillip, a studious yet sensitive chap from Birmingham, England. Drawn together by their mutual desire to heal the world, Faye thought she’d found her soul mate. Unfortunately, when she received the inner call to help the earthquake victims of Haiti, Phillip didn’t get that message. They vowed to keep in touch. He promised to visit. Neither happened. Another relationship gone.
And finally, Gerald McPherson. Older man. Brilliant doctor. Faye had been all agog. But Gerald hadn’t a clue. He viewed her as a little sister, and rather than risk being hurt or embarrassed, she hid her crush behind a professional veneer. Good thing too because a year after he’d arrived in Africa he got a visit from his high school sweetheart. Three months later he went back to the States and married her.
Faye reached the mall and began a methodical walk through the stores. Maybe she shouldn’t have spent so much time thinking about exes and unavailable loves. Because now she doubted her ability to take her friend’s advice and have a good time.
* * *
“Looking good there, Papa!” Dexter strolled into his great-grandfather’s bedroom, where a barber had just finished giving Papa Dee a haircut and a facial. “You’re going to have the ladies fighting over you.”
“Won’t be the first time,” Papa Dee drawled.
“Ha!”
The barber chuckled, too. “Again, happy birthday, Mr. Drake,” he said, packing up his equipment. Dexter paid him and showed him to the door.
When he returned to the room, Papa Dee asked, “Did you invite Charlotte, the woman from the casino that I told you about?” His breathing was a little labored, but his eyes twinkled.
“Sure did. But somebody else invited themselves.”
Papa Dee shook his head. “That Birdie needs to get a life.”
“Aw, come on now, Pops. You’ve known Miss Birdie for what...about thirty years?”
“Yep. And that’s about twenty-nine too many.” Papa Dee eyed himself in the mirror, turning this way and that.
“He did a great job,” Dexter said, watching his great-grandfather in the mirror. “You look good.”
“Not bad for an old geezer.”
“You’re going to be the best looking man in the place.”
“I will so long as you stay out of the room.”
“Couldn’t have been me if there hadn’t been you. Here,” Dexter said, walking over to the garment bag that hung in the closet. “Look what I bought you.” He unzipped it to reveal a lightweight, ivory-colored summer suit paired with a tan shirt and striped tie. “You’re going to be killing ’em, player!”
“If we’re talking about Birdie, she’s near ’bout dead already. One foot in the grave and the other on a piece of ice.”
“Don’t be so hard on her, Pops. I think she looks good for her age.”
“Anybody seventy-five and still aboveground looks good! She’s too old for me. I told her that!”
Dexter hid a smile. “I know, Papa. But somehow she knew about the party. Mom couldn’t uninvite her.”
“I’ll handle it,” Papa said with a sigh, spoken like one who more than once had had experience in this area. “Now, that Charlotte...”
“I can’t argue with you, Papa. She’s got it going on for sure.” She was also forty-five going on forty-six. But somehow Papa Dee had finagled her number and they’d been meeting to play bingo at the casino for the past two months.
“You always want to pick somebody who can stoke your fire, son, someone who’ll get your willy working, make you want to run a mile over hot coals...in bare feet!”
“Man, you’re a mess.” Dexter looked at his watch. “We should probably get you ready.” Papa Dee balanced his hands on both arms of the chair before standing. He took a step and stumbled slightly. “Papa?” Dexter was over in an instant. “Are you all right?”
“Fine, I’m fine.” Papa Dee waved him away. “All of this fussing over me has my head in a swoon.”
“You sure you haven’t snuck into some of that brandy you’ve been distilling? I noticed that someone had been in an area of the cellar where only two people have the key.”
“Only two people that you know of,” Papa Dee answered...without answering. “There’ll be plenty of time for spirits. But for me to manage all of these women this evening, I’ve got to have my head on right.”
Chapter 6
Before turning the corner, Faye heard the music, laughter and chatter of a party in full swing. She slowed just for a moment, running her hand across her abdomen to quiet the butterflies. In doing so she noted the softness of her newly purchased sundress’s fabric and the way the extra material swirled around her ankles. Bared arms wouldn’t have been her first choice. But when the boutique worker saw Faye’s toned body she’d gone immediately to the form-fitting floral number, and once seeing her in it had suggested a pair of strappy sandals with three-inch heels. Faye had appreciated her clerk-slash-stylist and had purchased those items, adding a lightweight shawl and jewelry to match. She had promised to return the following week to further update her wardrobe. She’d returned to the hotel just in time for the died-and-gone-to-heaven massage that was followed by the manicure, pedicure and salon visit.
“A haircut please, very close to the scalp,” she’d told the receptionist once she’d stepped inside.
Her beautician had other plans. “You have such a nice grade of hair,” she’d said, running her hands through Faye’s one-inch curls. “I could condition it and treat it so that ringlets form. With the shape of your face, it would look wonderful.”
“I’m not up for high maintenance,” Faye had countered.
“It’s a wash-and-go style, guaranteed.”
When Faye had returned to the room and taken the time to really study her reflection in the mirror—new hairstyle and, thanks to the threaded brow arch and mud mask treatment she’d gotten, new face—she hardly recognized herself. Now, teetering on heels she rarely wore and heading into a crowd of people she didn’t know...she again wondered who’d entered her body and where was the doctor whose idea of fun was poring over periodicals of the latest medical breakthrough. This is all your fault, Addie! And I’d like to take a scalpel to the one who invented heels!
“The party can’t start until you join us.” Faye’s breath caught as the words delivered by a sexy, masculine voice seemed to pour into her ear from much too close a distance. She smelled sandalwood and cedar and felt her stomach flop. “You were heading into the party, correct?”
She dared a glance. Big mistake. Oh, my God, it’s him! The businessman-slash-jerk, she told herself, who’d openly flirted with her while his wife-slash-date-slash-whomever was close by. “Actually,” she began, in her most authoritative voice, “I was...” He stepped directly in front of her, forcing eye contact, “deciding...whether or not...um...” So much for hiding behind a professional veneer. Eight years of schooling, two degrees and an M.D. behind her name, yet suddenly she’d lost command of the King’s English.
“You’ve got to come to this celebration. I insist. You’ll be the prettiest flower in the garden.” The handsome stranger placed a hand under her elbow and gently propelled her forward. “My name is Dexter,” he said, as they walked. “Friends call me Dex.”
“Faye Buckner.” She took a breath, and then another, and then wondered about the woman he’d kissed yesterday afternoon. How did she find out? Just ask him outright? Boy, am I rusty on dating decorum and social protocol. She decided to say nothing, for now.
Dexter stopped at an open bar that was just beyond the hedges that framed the garden’s opening. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”
“Yes, thanks.”
While Dexter placed the order, Faye was allowed a brief reprieve to look around and get her act together. Hard to do when in a fairy-tale garden, standing next to a prince and wearing a crystal-covered slipper, but she called on discipline honed in residency and gathered herself just in time to realize Dexter was asking a question.
“You arrived yesterday, right?”
“Yes.”
“On vacation?”
“Yes.” Are you stuck on stupid or just on that word?! Faye cleared her throat. “What about you? Here on business?”
“You could say that.” Dexter smiled, and Faye noticed that sexy hint of a dimple in his left cheek. “I work here.”
The bartender placed down their flutes. Dexter picked up one and gave it to Faye. “To a wonderful vacation in wine country,” he said.
Faye nodded. “Cheers.”
As she took her first sip, a pretty pregnant woman walked up to them. Faye immediately thought of the dark-skinned woman from yesterday and wondered where this expectant mother fit in the equation. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Brother!” the woman snapped as she reached them. “Excuse me,” she said to Faye before turning her attention back on her intended target. “Where is your cell phone?”
Dexter’s devil-may-care attitude never faltered. Nor did his smile. “Why are you being all fussy and looking evil? You need to chill and come to me correctly if you come at all.” He turned to Faye. “She’s usually not like this.” Nodding toward her protruding stomach, he added, “Hormones, I’m told.”
“Excuse me for not bowing down and genuflecting, Your Highness, but I have been dealing with the press and calling you, all while trying to divert a catastrophe. A minor sibling squabble,” the woman said to Faye. “Please forgive us.”
“If you haven’t figured it out, this is my sister, Diamond,” Dexter said, turning to Faye with a feigned look of chagrin. “She’s normally in full use of her manners, but since Junior landed in her stomach it’s scrambled her brain.”
“Oh, shut up.” Diamond gave Dexter a playful push. “Diamond Drake-Wright,” she said with a smile and an extended hand. “I take it you’re Dexter’s date. You have my condolences.”
“No, not his date,” Faye managed to respond, shaking Diamond’s hand even as her mind whirled. “I’m a guest.” Drake...Wright...as in the Drake in Drake Resorts? Now it all made sense: his cockiness, the self-assuredness, almost to a fault. The brochure had stated this was Drake land for more than a hundred years. Dexter had grown up eating with a silver spoon. This paradise was his home; heaven...his backyard!
“Thanks for joining us. I hope you enjoy the party. If you’ll excuse us, my brother is needed over at the production booth. You did bring the DVD, right?”
“Aw, man! I knew I was forgetting something. Excuse me,” he said to Faye, and hurried off.
Diamond and Faye watched his retreating back in silence. “And he says my brain is scrambled.” Diamond’s was the voice of innocence. “Go figure.” The ladies laughed. Diamond walked away, and for the first time since she’d heard his voice and smelled his scent...Faye exhaled.
Chapter 7
After a single glass of bubbly, the rare-drinking Faye was more relaxed and ready to mingle. She walked to one of the buffet stations, fixed a plate and was soon seated at a table that included a couple from England, two BFFs from Nebraska, a father and daughter celebrating her birthday and a businessman from Texas, complete with Stetson, boots and spurs. All the people at the table were friendly and their talkative natures made her feel comfortable. She’d just savored a spoonful of succulent gumbo when a man bearing a resemblance to Dexter spoke into the microphone.
“Good afternoon, everyone!”
His father perhaps? Faye placed down her spoon and listened.
“My name is David Drake Jr. I want to thank all of you for coming here today to celebrate the birthday of this resort’s founder, my father, David Drake Sr. Today, he turns one-hundred years old!” The partygoers cheered and applauded. “As any of you who’ve had the pleasure of meeting him can imagine, the stories are many, the history vast. A detailed biography is included in the programs placed at each table setting and also available in the hotel lobby. For now, please enjoy this short documentary highlighting some of the rich and colorful history of this amazing man.