Hurricanes in Paradise Denise Hildreth (english novels to improve english TXT) 📖

“Well, I’ve got too much work to do to worry about some wind and rain.”

Riley raised her eyebrows.

“I’ve lived through the earth moving, Riley. I can handle a hurricane. So should we get sequestered indoors, we’ll simply use that time to learn the inner workings of the Atlantis.”

Riley’s expression made it clear she hadn’t bargained for so much of her time being taken up. The hostess interrupted. Riley looked grateful. “We have your table ready, ladies.”

“Great,” Riley said, her excitement a little too revealing.

“Right this way.”

Riley motioned for Laine to go in front of her. On the walk to the table, Laine took in every nuance of the restaurant. It was filled with bold splashes of color: mustard yellows and royal blues. The fabrics contrasted in subtle yet whimsical waves from cowhide fabric–backed chairs to smooth red leathers all infusing the Southwestern touch chef Bobby Flay was known for. The grill sat as if it were a stage from where all the productions of the evening would flow.

The hostess pulled out Laine’s chair. She sat, ran her hands across the soft white linen tablecloth, and turned the sleek contemporary silverware beneath her fingers. Everything on the table had clean and simple lines, allowing the food to be the center of attention.

Laine reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad. “Beautiful restaurant.”

“We’re told it is his best so far.”

“I’d have to agree. I think I’ve eaten in most,” Laine said as she turned her head toward the other side of the restaurant. She let her gaze wander among the diners as Riley’s gaze followed her. There was a letting down that occurred in places like these. She could see it in the way people touched, discoursed, and laughed. Vacation bred relaxation. And it was evident all over the dining room. “Do you ever wonder about the stories behind people who dine alone?” Laine’s eyes were on the woman who had been enamored of her earlier.

Riley turned quickly as if she knew who had Laine’s eye. A huge smile spread across the woman’s face when she saw them looking at her. Then she waved. Riley gave a quick nod and turned back to Laine.

“You know her.”

“Yes, Winnie Harris. She’s a guest. I’ve been asked to keep an eye on her for the week.”

Laine sensed her uneasiness. “Really? Am I keeping you from her?”

Riley shook her head. “No, no. She’s here on vacation. Her family just asked me to make sure she enjoys herself.”

Laine nodded over Riley’s shoulder again. “What about her? The stunning, young African American.”

Riley didn’t turn. Evidently she knew her too. The young woman paid them no attention. Her elbow rested on the table, her head in her palm, a menu lying in front of her. “Yes, she’s another one I’ve been asked to take care of this week. Her family is concerned about her too.” Riley ran her hands down the side of her place mat. “Truth be told, I am as well.”

Laine saw Riley’s countenance shift. “Is she in trouble?”

Riley shook her head as if she had said too much. “Oh no. I doubt it’s anything like that. Just a concerned mother.”

“Invite them to eat with us.”

Riley let out a slight chuckle, then picked up her napkin and laid it in her lap. “Trust me, I don’t think you would want that. Mrs. Harris over there is apparently a big fan of yours, and I’m not sure that you would have the opportunity to eat.”

“You’d be surprised. Once you get people talking about themselves, you don’t really have to do much talking. Plus, some of my best character ideas come from real people and real stories.” Laine picked up the drink menu and studied it. She raised her green eyes above the top of her menu and locked them on Riley. “Invite them.”

Riley fidgeted in her seat. “You’re sure?”

“Invite them.” She made it clear that this time it wasn’t a suggestion. Laine needed an evening with strangers. She needed enough people to carry on conversations so she wouldn’t have to. And one of them seemed like the ideal candidate.

Riley scooted her chair back and headed to Tamyra first, probably because she would be the harder one to lure. After what seemed like much coaxing, Riley and Tamyra walked over to Winnie’s table. Winnie had her butt half out of her seat before they even got to her.

Winnie eagerly pulled at the leather chair on the other side of Laine and plopped down, bouncing slightly as she did. Riley tried to hide her snicker. Laine could tell Riley didn’t think she knew what she had gotten herself into. What little Miss Riley didn’t know was that Laine Fulton was a master study in people. And she had already discerned she really didn’t like Riley Sinclair.

* * *

Riley couldn’t understand Laine wanting to invite strangers to have dinner with her. But she had never really understood Californians. They wore black all the time or shades thereof. Apparently thought earthquakes and hurricanes were part of daily life. And thought anyone who had an accent different from their own held a slightly lower IQ. At least that’s what Laine’s tone seemed to imply.

“Oh my, what a delightful treat. I am having dinner with Laine Fulton,” Winnie said, leaning toward Laine and patting her hand as if Laine might not even know who she was. “The Laine Fulton.”

The waiter walked over, apparently aware that the dynamics of his table had just changed. “Hello, ladies.”

“We’ve some additions,” Riley said. “You might want to let the other waiters know we pulled from two tables over there.” She knew what it felt like to have guests change their minds on you.

“That’s no problem. Can I get you ladies something to drink?”

Everyone paused and looked at Laine as if she should begin. She took the cue. “How about watermelon martinis for the table,” she said, setting the menu down.

Winnie reached over and placed her hand atop Laine’s again. Riley watched Laine’s face tighten. Apparently conversation she could