Yahrah John - His San Diego Sweetheart

“What’s going on?” When Miranda began to protest, Sasha held up her hand. “And before you give me some song and dance, remember that I know you. You can’t keep secrets from me.”

Miranda inwardly cringed. She was keeping one now. She hadn’t revealed to Sasha the terms of her grandfather’s will. She hadn’t told anyone. It was embarrassing to find herself in the situation to begin with, let alone having people feel sorry for her that she couldn’t find a man. She didn’t want pity, not even from her best friend.

“I’m just trying to figure out my next move concerning my career,” Miranda offered, which was a half-truth. “You know I haven’t been happy for a while now. And I was hoping some time away would give me clarity on what to do next.”

“You know what to do,” Sasha replied. “Open your own B and B. You’ve been talking about it for as long as I can remember.”

“It’s not that simple. I need capital.”

“Can’t your parents loan you the money? Or what about a bank loan? I hate to see you giving up on your dreams.” Sasha was a much sought-after marketing consultant.

Miranda frowned. “I’m not giving up. Just deciding on the best course of action.” And once she had her hands on her inheritance, she would go after her dreams, full stop. She just needed a husband to get there. “Anyway, I was hoping maybe we could hit the town, maybe go to a happy hour and mingle.”

“Really?” Sasha’s brow rose a fraction. “Are you looking for a little vacation loving?”

Miranda laughed aloud. She could have easily have had that and then some last night. Vic had been one delicious male specimen who would have put a hurting on Miranda if she’d allowed him, but she hadn’t. “I wouldn’t mind a little company of the male persuasion.”

“Well, then, let me look around,” Sasha said, taking a forkful of her salad. “I’ll text you and we’ll make a night of it. Sound good?”

“Sure.” But Miranda’s brain drifted to Vic and the sensual smile he’d given her when he’d walked her to her hotel door. The way Vic had taken her in his arms and leaned into Miranda had her thinking about his hard length. Why was she even thinking about a man who’d lied to her? She needed to be sweeping him under the rug. So why did her heart burst with joy when his name came across her phone display several seconds later?

Last night, he’d taken her phone and input his number to be sure she wouldn’t lose it and had insisted she do the same. He’d even rung the phone to ensure she hadn’t given him a fake number. And now he was calling her.

She stared at the phone.

“Are you going to answer that?” Sasha inquired, inclining her head to the phone Miranda held in her palm.

She should ignore it, but another part of her wanted to answer and give Vic a piece of her mind. Swiping her thumb across her iPhone, she answered. “Hello.”

“Hello, Miranda.” Why did his voice have to sound like hot fudge poured over a sundae?

“Vic? Oh wait, I don’t believe that’s your real name, is it?” The words came tumbling out of Miranda’s lips before she could stop them. Sasha stared back at her in confusion. Rising to her feet, she stepped away from the table for some privacy.

At the silence on the other end, she continued. “Cat got your tongue?”

A sigh sounded on the other end. “So you found out?”

“Uh, yes, I did. In this day and age, did you really expect I wouldn’t discover the truth?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t thinking that far in advance,” he responded. “Another body part had taken over my brain.”

Miranda colored at his meaning. “What are you hiding, Vic?”

“My bank account,” he replied. “Same as you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Miranda Jensen, trust fund baby of the Chicago Jensens, a prominent family in the finance world. Or at least that’s what it said online.”

So he’d researched her too? “Did you know who I was when you met me in the café?”

“No, just the opposite,” Vaughn responded. “I knew nothing about you except that I’d met a beautiful woman that intrigued me, but I meet gorgeous women all the time. When you weren’t forthcoming with information about yourself, it made me cagey, so I decided to look into your background.”

“Why?”

“Because...similar to you, I’ve amassed a certain wealth and find myself watchful for gold diggers. I apologize that I wasn’t honest with you, Miranda. I admit I’m a bit jaded by my past experiences. In any event, it’s no excuse. And for the record, my real name is Vaughn Ellicott.”

An apology? She hadn’t expected that. And she now knew his given name. Vaughn. She kind of liked the sound of it.

“Wait a minute. Did you say you’re wealthy?” He certainly wouldn’t need a share of her inheritance if he had wealth of his own.

He snorted. “Don’t sound so shocked. Just because I look like a surfer dude doesn’t mean I don’t work.”

“Ouch.” She touched her chest as she felt the sting of his words. “Of course you do. I guess I just thought you might be one of those guys with a contract or endorsements or something to surf full-time.”

“You thought I was that good?” Surprise was evident in his voice.

Sasha motioned Miranda back over to the table but she shook her head and said. “I watched you for an hour. You know you’re that good.”

“I’m glad you think so. But I didn’t call you for praise.”

“Oh no? Why did you call?”

“So we could start again,” Vaughn replied quickly. “I’d like a clean slate with you, Miranda. So you can get to know the real me. I called to ask you for a second date.”

Miranda’s heart lurched in excitement. She had enjoyed spending time in Vic’s—no, Vaughn’s—company, but he hadn’t been forthright with her. Why should she go down that rabbit hole again? It wouldn’t be prudent. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other again.”

“So who is lying now?”

“Excuse me?”

“We had a good time. And you and I both know that the night might have ended differently if you hadn’t got cold feet.”

“I didn’t get cold feet. I just don’t sleep around with men I barely know which clearly I didn’t since you couldn’t be bothered to give me your real name.”

“Duly noted.” He ignored her dig. “Now about that dinner? My treat, someplace nice and I promise I’ll even dress up and everything.” Miranda remembered the distressed jeans and T-shirt he’d worn that hugged his tight bottom and bulging biceps. He’d looked darn good to her. Was she ready to see this new wealthy Vaughn Ellicott and see him all spruced up?

Yes, she was. Even though she knew it was fruitless effort, she could enjoy one last evening with him before she began her husband-seeking mission again because he certainly wouldn’t need a share of her inheritance.

“I take your silence as acquiescence, so I’ll pick you up at your hotel at seven p.m. sharp. And Miranda?”

“Yes?”

“Wear something sexy.” Seconds later, the line went dead and Miranda stared down at it in disbelief. Her circumstances had changed in mere seconds from being alone to a date with a fine man she was extremely attracted to.

Miranda walked back to the table and Sasha was staring at her wide-eyed. “Well?” Her brow raised a fraction. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”

Mirada shrugged. She didn’t understand it herself. She should be running in the opposite direction from a charmer like Vaughn who’d brushed aside his dishonesty under the rug and got her to accept his dinner invite.

“Don’t you dare? Spill.”

Ten minutes later, Sasha was glancing at her in bewilderment as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns. “What?”