After a week of roughing it in the wilds, Clay Baldwin drove back to Red Rock, looking as if heâd misplaced his razor days ago and had been bathing in a cold mountain spring.
But then again, thatâs exactly what had happened.
He probably should have gone home so he could shower and shave before going out in public, but tonight he was too tired and too hungry to care.
For the past few days, heâd been surviving on the fish he could catchâas well as the canned food heâd taken with himâso he was more than ready for a hearty dinner. And what better place to find the Mexican food heâd been craving than at Red, one of the most popular restaurants in town.
He glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror of his car, seeing little trace of the corporate executive who usually peered back at him. Two months ago, he would never have considered going out in public resembling a down-on-his-luck drifter. But the scruffy, laidback look fit the new Clay Baldwin. The time heâd spent alone these past few days had changed his view on a lot of things.
Or maybe the harsh realities of life had begun to alter his perspective long before heâd loaded up his brand-new camping gear into his new Mercedes.
Clay made his way through the crowded parking lot and into the busy restaurant that had once been an old hacienda. He would have been completely unaware that it was the holiday season if it werenât for all the lush poinsettia plants, little twinkly lights and a huge Christmas tree with Southwestern ornaments adorning Red.
The hostess, a woman in her mid-fifties, offered him a friendly smile. âIâm sorry, sir. Itâll be a bit of a wait. Our manager is having his wedding rehearsal dinner here tonight, and weâre shorthanded.â
Clay had known that Marcos Mendoza was marrying Wendy Fortune. Heâd been invited to the wedding, but heâd instructed his executive secretary to tell them he couldnât attend the ceremonyâa happy occasion for some, but one that would only drag him down. Heâd asked his assistant to send an appropriate gift instead.
âI donât plan to eat here,â Clay told the hostess. âIâd just like to place an order to go.â
âNo problem.â The woman reached for a notepad.
After Clay ordered the hearty carne asada plate, the hostess left him to wait in one of several seats in the entry.
He hoped he wouldnât see anyone he knew tonight since he looked more like a vagrant than a corporate executive. Besides, he wasnât in the mood to answer questions about how he was feeling and where he would go from here. In truth, he was still coming to grips with the loss of his best friend and business partner, Connor Reynolds.
Two months ago, Connor had died of a massive coronary at the gym where they both worked out. Connor had only been in his late-thirties, so his death had been a total shock to Clay. It had also forced him to reevaluate his own life, since he and Connor had shared the same work ethic, rarely taking any time off.
Ironically, it was that work ethic that had enabled Clay and Connor to build a successful corporation and to become multimillionaires. But even though Clay had amassed a fortune, he now realized it was worthless if he had no one to share it with, no one to leave it to someday.
Connor, on the other hand, had left his estate to his gold-digging wife, whoâd not only been cheating on Connorâcausing him additional stress that had probably contributed to his heart attackâbut who also thought she would step in and become Clayâs new business partner. What a nightmare that would have been. She would have bankrupted the company once she got her hands on the company credit card.
Clay knew that for a fact because just after she and Connor were married sheâd nearly forced Connor into the poorhouse before he canceled all his cards and had threatened to divorce her if she didnât stop her spending.
Fortunately, both Clay and Connor had enough foresight to include a buy-out clause when theyâd first created their corporation. So before she could bankrupt his company, Clay had offered the poor widow a sizable amount for her shares, which sheâd pounced on. Now Clay owned a hundred percent of the stock shares.
When the main door to the restaurant opened, an older man in a sport jacket entered and approached the hostess. âIâm here for the Mendoza rehearsal dinner.â
âItâs on the patio,â the woman told him.
The well-dressed man nodded, then took off to find his party.
Clay sighed. It seemed that everyone he knew was getting married or having babies these days. And after Connorâs death, Clay was forced to realize that his once-charmed life wasnât all it was cracked up to be. But now that he was back in Red Rock, he was determined to settle down and create a familyâif he could just find a woman who was honest and true, someone who was interested in him for more than the things he could buy or the fancy places he could take her.