"What plans?"
"Benjamin Harris won't be covering the rest of the grand opening. The assignment of a lifetime is calling him away."
"He's flying out today to cover some Alaskan nudist colony that Tyler hooked him up with." Adam looted so disbelieving that under any other circumstances Laura might have laughed.
But her grand opening coverage was no laughing matter.
"Who'll be replacing him?"
"Another reporter," Ms. J. said. "Benjamin will brief her on Ms way to the airport. She'll be here in time for the Bad Bachelorette Party."
"A woman?"
Ms. J. nodded. Annabelle looked stoic. Neither Bruno nor Dougray had anything off-color to say, which was a sure sign of trouble. And Adam…
Laura assumed by his frown that he knew full well what a female reporter meant.
He'd get to play escort.
Sinking back against the doorjamb, Laura rubbed her temples to ease the ache growing there. Who else was there but Adam? Forget Bruno. He had a kitchen to run. And Dougray…as much as she loved him, their new reporter would be treated to comic genius that would make the Naughty Nuptials resemble a Keystone Cop comedy.
Not exactly what she'd had in mind.
Her assistant Frank would present the inn and the events perfectly, but he wasn't a department head. Laura didn't want their new reporter to feel slighted in any way.
"Well, this is a turn." She sounded a lot calmer than she felt "We were counting on Adam to hold down the fort while we hosted the grand opening events."
"There's an up side," Ms. J said.
"Really? And what would that be?"
"The editor felt bad that Benjamin dropped the assignment before our grand opening even got underway, so he's sending someone with a connection to our featured guests."
A cold chill iced over her spine as Ms. J. said, "Miranda Knight's sister."
The moments that followed were like one of those unearthly silences that blanketed the world after a heavy snowfall. Then an image of a woman bloomed in her mind, a gorgeous woman with bright red hair who'd been a year behind her at Westfalls. Victoria Ford might not be as perfect as her perfect big sister—who could be?—but she was still Miranda's sister.
There was no way on earth Laura could expect fair coverage for her grand opening, let alone the rave reviews needed to launch the Wedding Wing into the big leagues.
She glanced around at her co-workers, all the people who'd placed their faith in her dreams and her abilities. Wonderful insightful Ms. J., who'd hired her recognizing what Laura could bring to the position, trusting her instincts even though Laura had no prior experience.
Dearest Annabelle, who'd not only shown her the ropes of working in an upscale hotel but who'd become so much more than a mentor. She'd become a good friend.
Dougray and Bruno, both were always available when she needed them. How often had Dougray helped out in a crisis or made her laugh after her day had taken a nosedive? And Bruno whipped up special meals for guests at the drop of a hat and fed her whenever she forgot to stop and eat a meal.
And then there were the other department heads who weren't fellow stockholders—housekeeping, reservations, grounds, the shop owners and even Adam. His workaholic ways aside, he'd been a rock in every crisis, coolly handling the kinds of unconventional situations that could arise when a hotel combines romance and guests.
They all believed in her. Not one had ever questioned her ability to pull off the Naughty Nuptials. She knew they wouldn't hold her accountable for this torn of events, but Laura also knew that wouldn't matter—she held herself accountable.
She should have swallowed her pride and aired the personal reasons she hadn't wanted the Knights as the Hottest Honeymoon couple in the first place. If Miranda had never shown up, then the managing editor wouldn't have sent her sister to cover the grand opening.
Did inviting me have something to do with keeping up appearances for Miranda's sake? Dale had asked her, and in the darkness of late night she'd tried to answer that question.
Now the answer seemed obvious.
Her past wasn't as far behind her as she'd thought.
And as she glanced around at her co-workers, all of whom were looking to her for reassurance that there wasn't anything to worry about, Laura didn't know which was worse. Having Dale help her face that she'd been deceiving herself or having Miranda and her sister running loose at her grand opening.
Chapter Eleven
Dale's role as bed buddy and grand opening arm candy altered dramatically when Laura walked into the Castaway Honeymoon Isle, looking as if she'd been hit by a train.
"What's wrong?" he'd asked, all thoughts of hunting down a manufacturer's phone number forgotten.
She stared at him blankly, as if she hadn't expected to find him here and wasn't sure what to say. He'd still been sleeping when she'd slipped out this morning, and if not for the missing number, he'd be working with a crew on the problem skylight right now.
"Laura, what's wrong?" he asked again.
"Benjamin left He had an opportunity to break a story on an Alaskan nudist colony. The paper's sending another reporter."
"This is bad?"
"They're sending Miranda's sister. She'll be here in time for the bachelorette party."
While Dale hadn't known that Miranda had a sister who was a reporter, he had suspected there was a lot more to the Laura/Miranda story than Laura had told him. Obviously she'd left out some important details. He hadn't pushed her to share more because he hadn't considered knowing important What had been important was figuring out how to live up to her views about being the man of her dreams so he didn't get the boot when this grand opening ended.
He'd decided that he wasn't going to run when love hit him upside the head, as Clyde had said. He was going to take a page from the old bartender's book and be smart enough to know when to stay put.
But seeing Laura so obviously rattled only drove home how underqualified Dale was for this job. The man of her dreams would know how to make her feel better. Dale's impulse was to drag her into bed until she couldn't remember a world existed outside the Castaway Honeymoon Isle, let alone details about changing reporters. Which only went to prove that he didn't have a clue what he was doing because there had to be another way besides kissing to wipe that stricken look off her face.
All right, first things first. Crossing the room, he took her arm and steered her away from the bedroom and all thoughts of kissing. He slid a chair out from the dining room table, and said, "Sit. Now tell me what the problem is."
When she lifted her gaze, the worry in those beautiful eyes nailed him hard.
She was off guard, uncertain, and he could practically see the wheels in her head spinning, as if she debated what to tell him. Here was a perfect chance to figure out how to help.
Dragging a chair around, Dale sat down, sliding his knees between hers, reaching for the hands she'd folded in her lap. "What's the problem with Miranda's sister?"
She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath then exploded.
"Victoria Ford is part of Miranda's family and they always make sure my family knows we're beneath them. They never miss an opportunity to make sure others know it, too. How on earth are we supposed to get unbiased press for the Naughty Nuptials with her covering the event? She'll be looking under every quarter round to find dirt because of who I am."
Dale forced himself to look past the way her flushed cheeks made her eyes seem even brighter and said, "You sound like you're talking about the Hatfields and the McCoys."
"I am." She heaved a dramatic sigh. "Not the feud but the mentality. Miranda's family have been looking down on my family my whole life simply because we're Grangers. They carry all the weight around here and we're the nonentities. Life is grand as long as we stay out of their way and don't overstep our boundaries. Most people knows that."
Dale tightened his grip on her hands. "Not Westfall's headmistress. She lent you her painting."
Laur
a dismissed his words with a frown. "Ms. Cecilia's an anomaly. She was my mom's teacher at Westfalls before she became headmistress. You have no idea how much garbage she got when she hired my mom. To Ms. Cecilia's credit, she wouldn't back down. She maneuvered the trustees into a corner so they couldn't get around the fact that my mom was the most qualified person for the job. Short of refusing her appointment based on their bias, they couldn't prevent her hiring."
Dale's gut told him he was still missing a chunk of the picture here. "So your mom went to Westfalls? What about Miranda's mother?"
"Oh, yeah. This has been going on since long before I was born. Trust me, Victoria's going to waltz in here, looking for any way she can to make me look bad. I'm the bedding consultant, Dale. This is the Naughty Nuptials campaign. How hard will she have to twist things to make Falling Inn Bed appear like some sordid sex palace? I wouldn't be surprised if the senator starts a crusade to shut us down. We'll all be out of jobs."
He wanted to reassure her but anything he said would be bullshit He still didn't have all the details of what appeared to be a multigenerational pissing contest He didn't know this reporter or what she might capable of. Laura could be entirely justified in her worries. And once again he regretted the two years he'd had to find out about Laura, time wasted running from his obsession.
Now he wanted to prove that everything about her did matter. He wanted her to share her secrets and tell him about her family. So he gave her hands a reassuring squeeze and asked the only thing he could think of. "What can we do to keep her focused on the story and not her personal feelings?"
Laura sank into the chair, leaned her head back. "Victoria can be as professional as she wants, but she'll still be expecting trash from me. And I just got done reassuring Ms. J. and everyone that our biggest problem would be Adam escorting her to the events. It was a lie, Dale. I should have told them why we shouldn't have invited Miranda in the first place. If I'd have been up front, none of this would have happened."
Dale thought he understood why she hadn't been up front. Laura took on life full-steam ahead with a very unique outlook that had been hailed as visionary. She wouldn't have asked for concessions based on her past history with Miranda Knight She would have faced her past head-on. There was no way to have foreseen these consequences.
He didn't think Laura would agree. She pulled away and dropped her face into her outstretched hands, and he stared down at the top of her neatly braided head, feeling uncertain and inadequate. He finally gave in to the urge to kiss her and pressed his mouth to all that shiny blond hair.
"Perhaps you should let Ms. J. and the others know about your concerns now, so they'll have a clue about what to expect."
She exhaled heavily. "You're right It's the only thing to do otherwise they'll be sandbagged by the crappy reviews. And with Adam escorting Victoria… Oh, this is a nightmare."
"Not a nightmare," he said, taking her hands in his and bringing them to his lips. "Just a minor setback. One we can deal with."
She lifted her gaze to his, and he saw relief sparkling in those crystal depths. "You're right."
He was right, and that was a start.
If Nick Fairfax, the biggest womanizer on the planet, could prove to Julienne that he was marriage material, then Dale could convince Laura he was at least worth a second look after the Naughty Nuptials ended.
Laura stared at Dale, not quite sure how to respond to his suggestion that they skip out of the sex-toy shower. Standing in the inn's adult shop beneath a half mannequin wearing a neon green chastity belt, he looked wildly bad boy with his hip cocked against a glass display case that housed sexual apparatus from Ben Wa balls to eye-catching dildos in a variety of shapes and sizes. He shot her a smile that suggested sex would cure whatever ailed her. Laura smiled back, her mood lifting. He'd gone to some trouble filling his shopping bag so they could pretend they'd participated in the search, which raised the question…
"You bought all the items for the sex-toy scavenger hunt? How did you know what was on the master list? I only passed out the clues to our guests."
"I asked Dougray to let me inside your office while you were having lunch with Jackson and Delia and their parents."
"And he did?"
That roguish smile widened, all the more potent for the shelves of sexy paraphernalia surrounding him. "He likes me."
She wasn't sure whether or not to be irritated. She certainly wasn't surprised. If Dougray made one more crack about Dale being her man… "Why did you rifle through my desk and steal the master list?"
"So I could give you a break. Something fun, so you'll feel better." Slipping his hand around her elbow, he steered her toward the archway that connected the toy shop with the lingerie boutique. "Natasha is holding a private viewing studio for us."
That wasn't the explanation she'd expected, but Laura appreciated his efforts. Having a meltdown in front of him this morning had surely broken some fling rules. Since he'd been gentlemanly enough not to call her on it, she supposed the least she could do was go along. "But, Dale, this is Delia and Jackson's bridal shower. We have to participate."
"And how can you do that? You coordinated the event so it's not like you don't know where everything is hidden. We'll just disappear for a little while and head back in time for the unveiling and the buffet. All your guests are out hunting so no one will miss you. We'll be back to give out the prizes." He held up the bag. "And I've picked up every item on the list. No one will ever be the wiser."
He'd thought of everything and her heart was going all soft and squishy around the edges. "Why a private viewing studio? Why not sneak up to our suite?"
He smoothed his hand along her arm, a possessive touch that sent a tingle through her. "Because I want to buy you lingerie, Laura. And I want you to model."
"I appreciate what you're doing, Dale, but you don't have to buy me anything. You're doing so much already. Escorting me to all these functions…not to mention the sex."
"This isn't about paybacks," he said so seriously that she frowned. "I'm distracting you. You haven't smiled once since you told the rest of the staff what was going on with Miranda's sister. You told me everyone understood why you handled things the way you did, but you don't seem to be cutting yourself the same slack. You did what you thought was best, Laura. Forget about it now. You don't have to deal with your new reporter until the bachelorette party, so don't."
"You're being very sweet, you know."
He nodded. "And supportive, too."
"Yes, and supportive."
"Not exactly what you expect from your bad boy, hmm?"
He sounded so impressed with himself that Laura couldn't help but laugh. "As a matter of fact, it isn't."
His stoic edges softened. "Well, it's not entirely selfless. Seeing you naked distracts me, too."
Before she could reply, Natasha, the designer of her own lingerie label and owner of this boutique, stepped out from behind the counter.
"Your private viewing room is ready, kids."
A tall, elegantly dressed woman in her early thirties, Natasha had been a neat fit at Falling bin Bed ever since she'd proposed opening her own boutique on the promenade. Her lingerie designs were erotic and fashionable and with the growing success of her online affiliate, her association with Falling Inn Bed had provided both her business and the inn with great exposure.
Reaching for a ring looped around her wrist, Natasha withdrew a key and dangled it before them. "Now you go have fun. You deserve to after working so hard to pull off Ads grand opening. If anyone asks for you, I saw you heading in the direction of the atrium."
"You just keep them walking," Dale said.
Then Laura found herself whisked toward the back of the boutique to the viewing studios where customers enjoyed private modeling sessions.
Natasha unlocked the door and motioned them in. "Have fun." She slipped out and Laura caught sight of Dale's reflection as he locked the door behind her.
Like everything else around
the inn, this studio had been designed with vintage in mind. The antique dressing screen, beaded blown glass lamps and boudoir chairs were all a spinoff of the Roaring Twenties' Speakeasy suite in the main hotel. The effect was low-lit and romantic and the sight of the garment rack, where sexy lingerie in all colors and designs hung, escalated Laura's pulse until each beat thudded in her ears.
Dale raked his gaze over her, a look that wasn't so much hungry as warmly promising as he moved to the sidebar where champagne and orange juice had been provided. "I knew you wouldn't drink, but I thought maybe you'd take a few sips if I prettied it up."
She nodded. Anything to ease the sudden dryness in her mouth. Dale wasn't acting the way she'll expected him to act after she'd breached the rules of a polite fling earlier. First he'd asked personal questions about her past, and now he was deliberately being supportive and arranging wildly romantic interludes to distract her from her worries.
Laura hadn't realized until that moment how much she'd been relying on Dale to play his part in this whole affair. By behaving like she expected him to, he didn't give her a chance to forget their fling would end after the grand opening.
As she accepted a champagne flute and sipped, Laura realized she couldn't put all the responsibility on him. It wasn't fair.
I won't steer you wrong. You have my word.
She'd given him her word, too. She'd promised she could handle a fling.
Slipping her arm through his, Laura led him toward the garment rack. "Ready for the show?"
His eyes danced over her, a look that reminded her of the way they felt together, skin against skin. "Ready."
Choosing a blue peignoir that was both elegant and completely see-through, he fanned his hand beneath the sheer mesh to reveal just how transparent it was. "Oh, I like this one. I can imagine you wearing this."
Her sense of unreality grew at his words, that turned-on feeling she got whenever he looked at her with that hungry expression, whenever their nearness held the promise of sex.
Hot Sheets Page 14
