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“Iceland, Greenland,” Christian said with a nod. “I see where you’re going with this.”
“But as a hook, I think something more attainable for the typical traveler might be in order,” she told them. “Which led me to Mexico.”
“Yeah,” Rory said. “I was headed that direction, too, but it’s pretty much done.”
“But not completely,” she told him. “Take La Crucecita, for instance.”
“Where’s that?” Christian asked.
“A small town north of Bahias de Huatulco,” she said. “Now that I think about it, Huatulco might be even better. It’s a conglomerate of nine bays with thirty-six widely undeveloped white-sand beaches. Very ‘old Mexico.’ Eighty percent of the tourism is domestic because they only have a small international airport—and it’s just not a hugely heard-of destination. A handful of resorts, mostly coastal, some solely occupying their own coves, with nothing but the Pacific Ocean sprawled before them. It’s hot and humid year-round, but look at these views.”
She handed over a few printouts.
“Nice,” Christian said of the turquoise waters and tree-covered hills.
She told Rory, “I’m thinking the regional chiles will probably be a staple for your best recipes. Maybe black mole salsa—thirty different ingredients, including chiles and chocolate. Every woman in the world will tune in for that. A hot chef and chocolate. That screams winner!”
“Not a thought to be discounted,” Christian agreed. “What else have you got?”
“My second selection is Todos Santos on the Baja Peninsula,” she said. “According to Jewel, Cabo San Lucas has become quite commercialized and it’s even spreading toward San José del Cabo, where a lot of celebrities have houses. But Todos Santos is more of that artsy, cobblestone-street quaint coastal village we’re shooting for. Tons of local flavor there.”
Rory studied some of the documentation on this town.
Bayli continued. “Finally, in the spirit of one of the last tried-and-true sleepy seaside villages, there’s Puerto Peñasco—or Rocky Point, in English. The town is on the cusp of being considered Cabo of yore, maybe in the next decade, so this would be a great time to showcase it. Shrimping is a mainstay and they have a fantastic fish market. The town is on the Sea of Cortez about an hour from the Arizona border.” She distributed more photos.
Christian shot Rory a look.
He said, “These weren’t on my list. But I like the views and the history. I bet we could do great things with these.”
Christian’s gaze slid to Bayli. “Excellent job. Tell us more.”
She went into the details and nuances of each locale, proving she’d done her homework the way she had when she’d played cigar hostess the night he’d met her. Just like then, Christian was impressed. Rory appeared to be so as well. They discussed a few possibilities for where they’d physically do the demos and Christian was sold on all the preliminaries. He slid another look Rory’s way, who nodded his approval.
“Well, then,” Christian said. “I’d say cheers are in order.” He held up his champagne glass and they did the same. They all clinked rims. “Here’s to … Oh, fuck. We don’t have a name for the show.”
Bayli and Rory exchanged a look.
“Shit,” she said. “That was the last thing I was thinking of.”
“It’ll come,” Christian told them. And took a deep drink. Then said, “Now that we have destinations, I have to get back on the phone.”
He kissed Bayli before heading to his study.
NINETEEN
Bayli had a series of photo shoots and then interviews lined up, some individually, most with Rory. It was next to impossible to do as Christian had asked and act professionally, like there wasn’t anything going on behind the scenes between her and Rory, especially when it was so easy, so natural, for them to flirt with each other. A greater challenge was pretending there was nothing going on behind the scenes with her, Rory, and Christian.
But Bayli played her part.
She returned to her apartment building a couple of days before they were to leave for Huatulco so that she could collect some of the clothes she’d picked out with her personal shopper and pack up a few other items. Christian had insisted on hiring a car service for her, and Bayli got a little thrill over having her own driver, Max. Her dreams were finally starting to come true. More so than she’d ever imagined, actually. She hadn’t factored into her Grand Plan two amazing lovers she couldn’t get enough of—who couldn’t get enough of her.
At that moment Bayli was feeling pretty damn lucky.
Two seconds later, however …
She unlocked the door and stepped into the small space. Her keys hit the floor. Along with her jaw. Her heart sank to somewhere around her knees as her gaze swept over the disaster that was now her once meticulously decorated apartment.
“Oh, my God,” she said on a sharp breath.
