Five Star Temptation. Jacquelin Thomas

      In a swift move, Sage rescued the glass and took a sip. Still fuming over the article, she uttered, “He’s a man. What does he really know about women?”

      “Perhaps you should finish the article before passing judgment, dear?” her mother suggested with a tiny smile. “Besides, R.G. may be a woman.” Barbara Alexander took a long sip of the ice-cold lemonade before setting her glass down on a side table.

      Barbara Alexander had decided to spend the day in Beverly Hills, leaving the peaceful estate home in Pacific Palisades she had come to love. She spent the morning talking to employees and hotel patrons. Sage had prepared a light lunch of grilled chicken salad, yeast rolls and steamed broccoli. They had just finished eating and sat down to relax in the living room while finishing off their glasses of lemonade.

      Sage set her glass down, making sure it was secure on the Brazilian-cherry coaster. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head, saying, “Oh, he’s definitely a man, Mama. I can tell from the tone of his articles. He comes across as cynical and bitter in his writing as far as I’m concerned. He is someone with a serious chip on his shoulder.”

      She ran her fingers through her soft curls. “I have no idea why Kellen likes his work so much.” Sage made a mental note to ask her brother why he was such a fan of R. G. McCall. “Maybe it’s because he’s so mysterious. All anyone really knows about him is his name,” Sage said.

      “I’ve read a few of his articles,” Barbara stated. “I can certainly understand why he is so protective of his identity. He tends to get to the heart of the matter, and a lot of people would prefer to keep the truth buried. I think he’s usually unbiased in his articles.”

      “What he does is throw rocks at you and then hides his hand,” Sage sniped. She had no idea why she’d allowed this writer—a man she had never met—to get under her skin like this. Maybe it was because he had chosen a topic that was a bit too close for comfort for Sage.

      That topic was her state of singleness.

      Barbara chuckled. “Well, he’s certainly got you riled up this afternoon. Maybe it’s a good thing that you didn’t finish reading the article.”

      Sage gave a grudging nod. “Mama, I’m going to be thirty in October. I really don’t need R. G. McCall telling me that I’m in panic mode or desperate just because I would like to settle down and have a family. That man has rubbed me the wrong way this time with his choice in subject.”

      “Don’t take it so personally, dear.”

      Her mother was right, but it was hard to just ignore the article. It was just one of many on the subject of women reaching the thirty-year mark. It was Sage’s birthday wish to find the man of her dreams, although deep down she felt as if her knight in shining armor was nothing more than a dream that would never come true.

      Sage had dated a few times since her arrival in Los Angeles, and some of the men were really nice, but they were not the type of man she wanted in her life long-term for various reasons. Sage knew that she had to really be careful in her choices of men due in part to her sudden fame. The Alexander family had been thrust into the limelight, and Sage soon found herself with no shortage of admirers—mostly men who were hoping to land a wealthy heiress.

      Her father had inherited the late Robert DePaul’s vast estate nearly a year ago, which included the luxury chain of what was now known as the Alexander-DePaul Hotel & Spa. Before the inheritance, they were just a family living a normal life in the small town of Aspen, Georgia, located forty miles west of Atlanta. They were still the same people before the fame and money, but it seemed as though everyone else had changed around them. People close to them treated them differently.

      “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to be married and ready to start a family before thirty-five,” Sage blurted. “I want to be able to enjoy my children before I’m too old.”

      “You’re right, sweetie,” Barbara agreed. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you feel. As for a family, I wouldn’t worry about it. Just trust that the Lord will bring the right man at the right time.”

      Sage embraced her mother. “Thanks, Mama. I’m so glad I decided to come to Los Angeles. I would have hated being so far away from you.” Sage and her brothers Ari, Blaze and Drayden all relocated to Los Angeles to work with their parents at the newly named Alexander-DePaul corporate offices. Her expertise was in real estate, which is why her father had given Sage the responsibility for overall sales of the portfolio of residences located at the hotel in the heart of Beverly Hills and steps from renowned Rodeo Drive.

      “I’m glad you’re here, too,” Barbara responded. “I don’t know if Malcolm could handle all this without his children.” She rose to her feet. “Thanks so much for lunch and the conversation. I’m supposed to meet your daddy in an hour. I’ve finally convinced him to give his wardrobe a face-lift.”

      Sage broke into a grin. “Good luck with that.” Her father hated shopping with a passion.

      She and Barbara embraced and then headed to the door.

      They took the private elevator down to the garage.

      “I’ll give you a call later in the week,” Sage told her mother. “If you and Daddy don’t have any plans, I might drive out to the house this weekend. I want to see the new renovations.” Her parents had decided to change some things in the house. They wanted their blended personalities echoed throughout every room.

      “We’ll be home,” Barbara responded.

      They embraced again in the parking garage before Barbara headed to her car.

      Sage watched her mother get into the car, and she remained glued to the spot until Barbara drove away.

      Instead of returning to her penthouse, Sage decided to walk through the hotel. The Beverly Hills property had been inspired by the Spanish Revival architecture and Mediterranean styling that was so prevalent in the area. The interior evoked timeless elegance in sun-drenched colors of gold, salmon, coral and cream, which Sage found awe-inspiring and beautiful.

      Her life was perfect, Sage thought to herself.

      But it would be even better if she had someone to share it with.

      * * *

      Ryan Manning—aka R. G. McCall—was thirty-two years old, living in New York, and had been working as an investigative reporter for the past ten years with a major newspaper. After his painful divorce and suffering from writer’s block, Ryan decided to take a year off. His other love was cooking, so he opened a restaurant in Manhattan. However, his passion for the written word and the truth called him back into news reporting—this time as a freelance writer. His restaurant had turned out to be a very successful venture and was currently managed by his brother.

      A news short on television caught Ryan’s eye.

      The story of Malcolm Alexander inheriting the DePaul estate was still news, even though Robert DePaul had been gone for almost a year. People were still hungry for any information about this family from a small town in Georgia who had captured the hearts of the people in Los Angeles.

      What’s so special about them? he wondered—outside of being fortunate enough to have Robert DePaul’s blood running through their veins.

      The late Robert DePaul had been a very generous man during his lifetime. Ryan had heard many stories of Robert paying off medical bills of complete strangers, bestowing cars upon some who could not afford to buy one and even taking in a homeless man, giving him a job. He had often championed the rights of the homeless over the years.

      Ryan’s current project was going to be a series of articles on the plight of homeless people in large cities—more specifically, Beverly Hills and some of the wealthier areas across the country. He had always been vocal in his criticism of how many of the wealthy residents complain about the homeless, but instead of trying to help, they treat them like criminals. There were those who were eager to spend thousands on a pair of shoes instead of giving a few dollars to