He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m good with whatever you do. You know Cassie and I will support you in any choice you make.”
Scarlett pulled away and grinned. “Even babysitting?”
Rhett laughed. “Especially babysitting. Cassie would’ve had a dozen babies if she could have. Unfortunately, her insides didn’t cooperate. Still, we’re blessed with our two.” He brushed her hair from her cheek. “You will make a fantastic mom, with or without a man, but let me think about it. Between all our friends, maybe we can set you up with someone.”
“No blind dates for me, big brother,” Scarlett proclaimed. “I’ll either find a guy on my own or pick a sperm donor from some glossy catalog. Right now, I’m thinking smart, a little smart assed, and athletic.”
Rhett laughed. “Who knows? Maybe Wynn Gallagher is meant to be your plus-one in life.”
◆◆◆
Wynn passed his keys to a starstruck valet and entered the Montrelle. A thin blond with a clipboard stepped in front of him.
“Mr. Gallagher? I’m Amy,” she said brightly. “May I escort you to your bungalow and go over tonight’s schedule with you?”
He gave her friendly nod. “Lead the way.
They entered the luxury hotel’s lobby and crossed it, veering off to the right and down a hallway that led back outside. Lush landscaping surrounded the pathway, dominated by pink bougainvillea.
“You’re in Bungalow Nineteen.”
I was nineteen the year Mom and Dad died.
“The silent auction starts at six and will close at ten this evening. Items are located on the perimeter of the ballroom and outside it. Cocktails will be served at six-thirty in Salon B.”
Amy swiped the keycard and opened the door of the bungalow, gesturing for him to enter before her. Wynn stepped in and she followed, handing him the card.
“Everything takes place on the mezzanine level. Dinner is at seven in Ballroom A, directly across from where you’ll have cocktails. The casino party is from eight until eleven in Ballrooms B and C.” She beamed at him. “The Montrelle is delighted that you decided to attend tonight’s festivities, Mr. Gallagher. In case you want to entertain in your bungalow tonight, iced champagne and an assortment of fruits and cheeses will be delivered at ten this evening.”
Wynn started to tell her not to bother but hesitated. He didn’t plan on spending the night at the Montrelle but who knew what kind of opportunity might arise tonight.
“That sounds fine, Amy. Anything else?”
“No, sir.” She passed a laminated card to him. “This contains the schedule for tonight’s events.” Next, she gave him a brochure. “This lists all the items available in the silent auction. You’ll be situated at Table One with Mr. Corrigan. If you need anything tonight, please ring the front desk and they’ll contact me.”
“Thank you.” Wynn escorted her to the door and saw her out before sinking into a striped sofa.
It amazed him that he’d actually gone through with it and come. Of course, with all the trouble Cady must have gone through to get him at the head table, he knew if he didn’t show up, his sister would serve his head on a platter. She did so much for him. Maybe he could bring her some kind of souvenir from tonight.
He wondered what Rhett Corrigan would be like. The actor had a reputation for always knowing his lines and treating everyone in the cast and crew with respect. He also was known as a family man, with a tight circle of friends that included both actors and non-Hollywood types. Wynn wondered why Rhett had started a cancer research foundation. Most likely, he would find out tonight.
Reaching for the remote, he clicked on the TV and found the Dodgers game. It was late August and they were still in the hunt, tied for the division lead. When the game went to commercial, Wynn picked up the brochure and glanced at the items available for bidding, thinking he might find something for Cady. Quickly, he saw no low end items. They ranged from luxury cars to jewelry to several fantastic vacations. One that caught his attention was a trip to England. It included four days spent sightseeing in London and then another seven on a walking tour through Kent and the Cotswolds. Wynn had never been to England and this appealed to him immensely. Though a mathematician at heart, he had a deep love of history and would enjoy seeing all the places mentioned in the description. To walk through the peaceful English countryside without a care in the world called to him.
He would bid on this. No, he’d win it. The tax write-off would be nice and the money would go to a good cause. If he had to do the damned superhero movies, the least he could do is have this waiting for him when filming ended. Maybe he’d even find a cottage in a remote spot and buy it. In Cornwall, like Gabriel Allon in the Daniel Silva books. Wynn could try living in solitude for a year. No acting. Just walking. Reading. Swimming. Thinking. He owed it to himself after the nonstop ride he’d been on for almost fifteen years.
Glancing at his watch, he saw it was six-forty. He hadn’t planned on attending the cocktail hour but he better make his way down to the ballroom for dinner. He slipped the keycard into his jacket pocket and followed the path back to the main hotel. An escalator took him up the mezzanine. Clumps of well-dressed people stood with drinks in hand while others made their way into the ballroom. Wynn followed them inside.
“Mr. Gallagher?”
He turned and saw a young woman in her mid-twenties, with a freshly-scrubbed looking face that pegged her as a Midwesterner.
“I’m Sarah Hartnett, an assistant with the Corrigan Foundation. I’d be happy to escort you to your—”
“That’s not necessary, Sarah.” A tall, rail-thin woman with sleek
