“Fallon, darling, why the sunglasses in the solarium?” Tova Presley asked as Fallon entered the glass-enclosed atrium filled with exotic plants and flowers that created the most amazing scents that had inspired some of the aromas for Fallon’s products.
The solarium on the Presley estate faced the western portion of the cove, so the sun was behind them—not at all warranting shades at ten o’clock in the morning.
Fallon gave Morgan’s mother double-cheek kisses, then took the seat opposite her at the elegantly appointed table where they had Sunday brunch every other week. Fallon really had no choice but to remove her glasses.
Tova gasped.
She was a fashionably coiffed and attired brunette with a svelte figure and warm brown eyes. Her chic, glossy bob accented all the diamonds she wore—even this early in the morning.
Despite her extravagant appearance—part and parcel for her societal standing—Tova was the kindest, most compassionate woman Fallon knew aside from her own mother. Definitely a far cry from Devon’s mother, Wanda McMillan. Another story entirely, along with Devon’s two sisters-in-law, Gigi and Liza.
Fallon fought a cringe at the thought of all three McMillan women.
“Good Lord, Fallon,” Tova breathed, her hand pressed to her chest. And not in that overly dramatic, pretentious way of Wanda’s. Morgan’s mother was 100 percent genuine. Earnestly concerned about Fallon. “Bloodshot and puffy eyes . . . what has happened? Is it your company? Did a new business deal fall through? Do you need money? I have repeatedly offered to fund your operations. All you have to do is agree, darling.”
Fallon let out a half-laugh, half-cry. “Tova.” More tears stung her eyes. “I don’t need money. But God love you for always wanting to save everyone.”
Tova waved a manicured hand in the air, modestly dismissing her huge charitable contributions. “I do what I can.”
“You do a lot. And I have huge respect and admiration for you. But what comes of my business is all dependent on how good my products truly are.”
“And your trial runs will confirm you’re worthy of displays in the most prestigious spas and beauty shops. So if that’s not what’s wrong, darling, what is?”
Fallon was about to reach for the linen napkin at her place setting, but Annabeth, the brunch attendant, swooped in and snatched it, shaking out the folded linen and placing it gently in Fallon’s lap.
“A mimosa, Miss Fallon?”
“Thank you, Annabeth.”
The attendant gazed over at Tova. “Another for you, Mrs. Presley?”
“Yes, please.”
While Annabeth went for their cocktails, Fallon dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the napkin. Then she asked, “Have you noticed Morgan and Dev are at odds?”
Tova polished off her first mimosa and set aside the Baccarat flute for Annabeth to clear. She took a few seconds to compose her thoughts, decide what she wanted to say on the subject. Then she returned her attention to Fallon and said, “I’m not pleased that they both left town a year ago. When I question either of them, I get excuses. The runaround. I know Bayfront is where they want to be and yet . . . they’ve been avoiding it.”
Annabeth delivered their drinks. “May I start you both with grapefruit?”
It was pretty much a staple for them, so Tova nodded.
Then her tone dropped a notch, and she leaned in and said to Fallon, “I can understand that Devon doesn’t like the current family dynamic he has to contend with. Max and Davis were always difficult enough to deal with, but once they married Gigi and Liza . . . Well. I know plenty of snooty women, don’t get me wrong. But those two are a chip off of Wanda’s shoulder—and they’re not even her biological daughters.”
“Yes, they are. I’m very careful to keep my distance.”
“As you should.”
“But, Tova, there’s something else keeping Dev and Morgan from Bayfront. A . . . Rift. If you will. Between them. And I can’t figure out how to fix it. In fact, I think I might have made it worse.”
“Fallon.” Tova covered her hand that was resting on the table. “You are always so worried about others and always putting things on your shoulders. Whatever it is . . .” Tova’s voice cut off. She stared intently at Fallon as Fallon’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh . . .”
Tova reached for her mimosa and took a deep sip. Fallon did the same.
Then Morgan’s mother said, “You’re in love with my son, aren’t you.” Not even a question. She could obviously see it written all over Fallon’s face.
Fallon set aside her glass. Then she nodded.
“And Devon. Darling, are you in love with Devon as well?”
Another nod.
A fat drop crested the rim of one of Fallon’s eyes.
Tova asked, “And you don’t want to have to choose between them?”
“What makes you think that would be an option? We were only friends growing up.”
Tova gave a knowing smile. “You were such a cute, quirky girl. It was no mystery that both Morgan and Devon adored you. As Dag and I do.”
Dagney Presley was her husband. A portly man with an exuberant personality and a brilliant mind that had led him to be one of the foremost military communications innovators in the world.
Continuing, Tova said, “And now you’re a beautiful young woman. Again, no mystery that Morgan and Devon would take notice.”
Fallon reached for her cocktail and sipped. Then she said, “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
“Ah, well.” Tova waited for Annabeth to set out the grapefruit and coffee and discreetly step away before saying, “My understanding is that it really doesn’t need to be all that complicated. You don’t actually have to choose between them, do you? If it’s not what you want.”
Fallon stared at her, her mind whirling.
Morgan’s mother smiled. “Make no mistake, Fallon, I might be the older generation, but I am very much in touch with the Bayfront rumor mill. I know what my sons have been up to when it comes to their romantic lives.”
Fallon’s lips pressed together. She knew Tova considered Devon a son because he’d practically grown up on the Presley estate as much as Fallon had. But that Tova—and possibly Dag—knew of the two men’s sexual lifestyle . . . Was that fully possible? Really true?
Fallon cautiously ventured, “You’ve heard they . . .”
“Share women, yes. And for the record, darling, I’m not judging. In fact, I’ve heard the most scandalous news of late that’s actually quite . . . Fascinating.”
Fallon’s brow crooked. “Oh?”
“Mm, yes. Though not news to you, I’m sure. Sylvia Carter. Noah Donovan. Seth Lofton.” She grinned wickedly, not needing to say more.
“Well . . . Yes. That is true. They’re an item. Nothing the three deny.”
“So what, exactly, is the problem when it comes to your happily ever after?”
Fallon drained her mimosa while summoning a little verve. She said, “Morgan and Devon are considering leaving Bayfront for good.”
Tova leaned in again, clasped Fallon’s hand, and boldly said, “Then my darling girl, simply convince them not to.”