- Home
- Tara Randel
Magnolia Bride Page 2
Magnolia Bride Read online
Page 2
“When you agreed to marry a senator’s son.”
“I know I asked you to go big, but this has turned into a media frenzy. And who ever heard of a three-day engagement party?”
Their mother. When Nealy’s older sister got married it had been a rushed affair because Lanie had been in college at the time, which left their mother disappointed at its small scale. Now they were going to be related to a senator—her mother’s dream come true—so the ante had gone up. And up. And up.
“Where’s Grandmother? She’s good at distracting Mom.”
“She’s fed up, too.”
Not good if Dorinda Hobart, the voice of reason, couldn’t fix things.
“Hold on. Sanity’s on the way.”
Nealy ignored the usual foreboding that accompanied anything to do with their mother. Instead, she enjoyed the balmy breeze tickling her face. She’d been putting off the prodigal return and the old twinge of inferiority crept up on her, well aware certain family members wouldn’t welcome her with open arms. She didn’t expect them to behave any differently. She’d burned her bridges years ago and dreaded the cool reception awaiting her.
It doesn’t bother me.
Right. If she repeated the mantra enough times, she might believe it.
Instead of dwelling on her insecurities, she turned her attention to her sister. Juliet would be fretting over the details, because, well, that’s what Juliet did. As the baby of the family, they went overboard to pamper and protect her.
Then at fourteen, Juliet had been in a horrific automobile accident. Hospital stays and months of rehab had been the norm for her for a long while. The physical scars had healed, but the emotional toll? Nealy wasn’t sure her sister had ever recovered. So how could she deny her sister when she begged Nealy to come home, claiming she needed her cool, professional demeanor to deal with a party and a weekend schedule growing bigger and bigger by the moment? How Juliet expected Nealy to keep everyone calm, she had no idea. She was an event planner, after all, not a miracle worker.
As Nealy pulled the car into the parking lot of the Grand Cypress Hotel, the location of all the parties, crushed shells crunched under the tires. Searching for an empty spot in the crowded lot took longer than she’d anticipated but she finally eased into a space. Cutting the ignition, she grabbed her purse and briefcase before exiting the car.
She took a few steps before stopping in her tracks before the main entrance. Wow. The previously modern contemporary style of the hotel now sported a charming Southern plantation facade. When she’d worked here during high school, the place had lost its luster, even though many of the same families returned to the hotel to spend their summer vacations. She’d done shifts at the snack bar, been a lifeguard and parked cars for fancy events.
She’d also met her ex here.
From the moment she laid eyes on him waiting tables in the dining room, she had decided to go after him. She’d strutted below the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the pool area, twirling her lifeguard whistle to catch his eye. It worked. Boy, had it worked.
Before more memories could overwhelm her, she took a breath and marched on.
Her heels sank into the crushed shells as she took the path from the parking lot. Why on earth had she chosen three-inch heels today? Not that she had a choice. She’d caught a red-eye flight immediately after finishing up an event she couldn’t miss. It meant she’d had no time to change from her lemon-yellow linen business suit and leopard-print heels. Huffing along, she reached the wide veranda of the renovated hotel.
Initially she’d been surprised when Juliet booked the engagement party, and subsequent wedding, at this location, until her sister explained the hotel’s face-lift. The pristine white exterior with shiny black shutters fronted by a wide veranda dotted with rocking chairs promised a no-stress zone for weary guests.
As she stepped into the spacious foyer, cool air greeted her, along with some major structural improvements. The new owner had removed the old ceiling to create an open two-story masterpiece. Nealy’s breath caught. Marble floors shone as light filtered through the frosted dome ceiling. A counter nearby, also in marble, had staff waiting behind it to help the guests.
She let out a low whistle. “Not too shabby.”
Her cell phone rang. This had to be Juliet worried about her ETA. As she crossed the highly glossed lobby floor, her heels echoed. “Hold on,” she said to herself, digging through the contents of her purse, intent on finding her phone, when she bumped into a tall, solid form.
“Whoa,” a deep masculine voice said as firm hands grabbed hold of her upper arms to steady her.
“I’m so sorry,” she sputtered, pushing her hair from her eyes. “I’m in a hurry and wasn’t watching where I—” Her words stopped as she recognized the man holding her in place. Him. “Dane?” she whispered.
“Nealy. Been a long time.”
Her breathing nearly stopped as she gaped at her ex-husband, Dane Peterson.
No. This couldn’t be right, could it?
“What are you doing here?” she managed to croak out.
“I’m the owner.”
“Of what?”
“The Grand Cypress Hotel.”
Granted, running into Dane made her thinking a little fuzzy, but... “You own this hotel?”
“Yep.”
Knocked off-kilter by her first glimpse of Dane after twelve years apart, her legs became shaky. Why hadn’t anyone told her Dane owned the hotel? Probably because they figured she wouldn’t step foot in the place if she knew.
They’d have been right.
He’d aged well, exceptionally well, as evidenced by the unexpected stirring in her belly. His dark blond hair, highlighted by the sun, was cut short, a far cry from the disheveled locks he’d once sported. Whiskey-hued eyes and tanned skin portrayed the picture of a man in his prime. Even more handsome than the boy from her memories. She still remembered the lanky teen, long hair falling over his brow into his eyes, wearing T-shirts proclaiming the name of a favorite band paired with ripped jeans and sneakers. Today, a mature Dane wore navy pants and a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. His dark shoes shone.
His masculine scent, so alluring and familiar, had her leaning toward him until she realized her mistake and blinking furiously, she took a hasty step back from the stunning man standing before her and the powerful reaction he evoked.
“How did you come to own this place?”
“It’s what I do. Rehab old or failing hotels.”
“You renovated this hotel?”
“That’s right.”
Wow. Talk about total and complete shock.
Nealy shook her head, trying to reconcile this man with the boy she’d fallen head over heels in love with. Her pulse fluttered as the intensity of his gaze made her heart race and her eyes sting.
“Welcome home, Nealy,” Dane said in a low, familiar voice.
Her initial surprise at seeing him dissipated instantly as the hurt came rushing back. Apparently twelve years hadn’t healed the wound he inflicted when he’d shattered her life that summer. He’d married her, then turned right around and filed for an annulment, dashing her hopes of them spending their lives together. The dream had turned into a nightmare, courtesy of the man standing in front of her.
“Home is L.A. now. If you’ll excuse me, my sister’s expecting me.” She needed to escape from Dane before he noticed her curt tone hiding the traces of old hurt.
“Yeah. About that. There’s a problem.”
She raised a brow. “What’s happened?”
“It’s more like who happened.”
She shook her head. “You’ve lost me.”
“Remember Angela? The hotel’s in-house event coordinator?”
“Sure. We’ve been working together on bo
th of Juliet’s parties.”
“Not any longer.”
She jammed a hand on her hip. “And why is that?”
“She quit this morning.”
Nealy tried to keep from gaping but didn’t succeed. “What did you do to her?”
Her sharp question earned her a throaty laugh. “Me? I didn’t do anything. You, on the other hand...”
As his sentence trailed off, she protested, “I just got here.”
“It seems you were a bit too...zealous in planning Juliet’s party. To quote Angela, ‘I’ve only dealt with Nealy over the phone. How much more nerve-racking will it be having her here in person?’ Your imminent arrival sent her over the edge.”
“Hey, I’m good at my job. I can’t help it if she was overwhelmed.”
“Overwhelmed or not, I’m minus an event coordinator.”
“Thankfully I’m here for Juliet. Her parties will be wonderful despite this upset.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ll be leaving soon. I’m the one on the hook with scheduled events over the next couple of days and no coordinator.”
She tugged the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder. “Figuring out these problems is all in the day of a hotel owner. I’m sure you’ll manage. Excuse me.” She took two steps when she realized she didn’t know where to find her sister. Reluctantly she turned back to Dane.
“Down the hallway,” he said and pointed. “Second door on the right.”
She headed off, but not without hearing a husky, “Good to see you.”
Ignoring the blood roaring in her ears, she hurried to the room. Bad enough the party would be at this hotel, but to run into Dane while she was home? The knots in her stomach tightened. Why couldn’t she have gotten a flat tire? Preferably somewhere in L.A. so she would have missed her flight.
Did he have to look so good? Smell so good? And why had she turned into a flustered teenager? Because the man still had a way of getting under her skin, that’s why. She pressed her hand against her roiling stomach. She’d worked with top celebrities without so much as a bat of an eye, but two minutes with Dane had her insides screaming as if she were a starstruck groupie. She would not let him get to her during her time in Cypress Pointe.
Still, Dane Peterson, owner of the Grand Cypress Hotel. Who would have thought it? And what was she going to do to avoid him?
Before she could come to any conclusions, she crossed the threshold into a large banquet room and assessed the chaos.
Juliet was pacing. Lanie, her older sister, had a box that she was rustling through, pulling out rolls of bunting and crepe paper. Nealy shuddered at the sight. Her mother, Anita, was chastising a tall man with a glazed look in his eyes. Having been at the receiving end of her chastisement, Nealy empathized with him.
“Hey, everyone,” she called out. “I’m here.”
Juliet shrieked, running over to envelop Nealy in a big hug. “I knew you’d make it.”
“Yes, we were wondering when that would be,” her mother’s voice came from behind her. “We could have used your help this afternoon.”
Sure they could have, but then Nealy would have had to stick needles in her eyes.
“Hi, Mom.” She gave her a dutiful hug, miffed she let her mother’s lack of affection get to her.
Following the pseudo hug, her mother scrutinized Nealy. “You look pale. Don’t you ever get out in the California sun?”
Before Nealy could respond, Lanie cut in for her hug. “Welcome home, sis. We could use some major organizing skills since a therapist isn’t available.”
“Lucky for you I have them.”
Juliet put a death grip on Nealy’s arm. After their most recent phone conversation, Nealy understood why. Her family had a tendency to be a bit too eagerly involved.
“Please promise me you won’t leave my side.”
Nealy didn’t want to make any promises. Her mother’s frown didn’t reflect a warm welcome and knowing Dane lurked somewhere in the building made her want to bolt. Then she focused on her sister’s worried face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes and that her usually tidy hair was a mess. Nealy lifted her chin. This wasn’t about her. Her sister needed her here and for that reason alone she would see this week through. “I promise.”
Juliet let out a breath, tears glistening in her eyes. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” Nealy was genuinely concerned.
“Tired. Work has been demanding. If this party is any indication of what the wedding will be like...”
Nealy should have come home sooner. “Maybe we should—”
“There she is,” cried a familiar voice. Nealy turned to see her maternal grandmother, Dorinda, hurrying toward her. “Come give me a kiss.”
Nealy sent one last questioning glance at her sister and received a reassuring nod in return. Once she and her sister were alone, Nealy would get to the bottom of what was bothering Juliet.
“Grandmother!” Nealy wrapped Dorinda in her arms, holding on for dear life. The scent of lilacs Nealy always associated with her grandmother enveloped her. Welcomed her home. This was the person who had cleaned her cuts, wiped her tears and filled her life with joy. “How have you been?”
“Other than missing you, just fine. Talking on the phone and only seeing you for our annual visits is not enough.”
Nealy grinned. “I agree.”
Dorinda ran a hand over Nealy’s wavy hair. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered and tilted her head toward the women in the room. “Not a moment too soon.”
“Are things so bad?”
“Not bad. More like difficult. The usual Grainger women drama.”
“As usual, Dad is wise to stay far, far away.”
The urge to run away welled up in her, but she squashed it for Juliet’s sake. Maybe a few minutes to gather her muddled thoughts would shore up her resolve. “Okay, ladies, before we get busy, I have to make a couple of quick business calls. Be back in a few.”
She turned on her heel, hurried out of the room and back down the hallway, hoping she wouldn’t run into Dane. Before entering the foyer, she stopped and peeked around the corner. No ex-husband. Expelling a breath, she rushed past the main desk, heading to the veranda for some fresh air and to place the phone calls she promised her boss she’d make. She’d just reached for the door handle when she heard a slow masculine drawl behind her. “Leaving so soon?”
* * *
DANE KNEW NEALY would never miss her sister’s party. That meant he’d be seeing her again. His regret over how he’d ended things with her had entailed a lot of emotional upheaval, but still he maintained he’d made the right decision to end their marriage before it really started.
What else could he have done but file for an annulment after their impetuous act? Once they’d said their “I do’s,” the enormity of the situation had sunk in. There was no doubt in his mind he’d been head over heels in love with Nealy, but marriage? At eighteen, he’d had nothing to offer her. No way to support them financially or emotionally. How could he not have considered the consequences? Because he’d let the roller-coaster ride of young love blind him to reality instead of considering what Nealy needed—security and a man with a solid future.
He’d done the right thing by walking away. It had been the hardest decision he’d ever made, more so because he knew he’d hurt her in the process. Yeah, he hadn’t missed the surprise and hurt in Nealy’s eyes when she’d bumped into him a few minutes ago. She’d never been very good at hiding her emotions. From him, anyway. But she was here now, so how was he going to handle the situation? If her body language and angry tone were any indication, she didn’t plan to make any encounters between them easy.
She let go of the door handle and faced him, her lips pressed together, a sure sign she was annoyed. “Do you make a habit of
stalking your guests?”
“Only the ones I haven’t seen in over a decade.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“I’m well aware.”
Coming back to Cypress Pointe to purchase the hotel had been a calculated risk, like returning to the scene of a crime. But when the hotel had gone up for sale, Dane couldn’t resist. After a mere few hours of debating the wisdom of buying a property holding so many memories of love gone wrong, he broke down and placed an offer. It had taken a lot of hard work to get the place looking even better than its former glory, but once he’d started, he never looked back.
Nealy stood with her arms crossed over her chest, one foot tapping. Yeah, she still had all the pent-up energy that got them into one scrape after another when they were kids. “Don’t you have some hotel stuff to keep you busy?”
He grinned at her, encouraged by the flicker of interest she tried to hide. “At the moment, you’re my top priority.”
She narrowed her eyes but the gesture didn’t scare him off. She still had the power to make his heart pound with just one glance.
Mahogany-colored hair, cut in wavy layers, swung around her shoulders and down her back. Dane remembered the texture, and his fingers itched to touch the thick tresses. Her slender build admirably filled the suit she wore and he smiled at her choice of footwear. She always did have a flair for the unexpected.
The subtle scent of peaches accosted him, just like that long-ago summer. He also remembered the luscious bubblegum gloss she’d constantly applied to her lips. The bubblegum fad of her youth had faded, but in its place had grown an incredible woman. He could sense she was the whole package. He liked this version of Nealy. A lot.
“How long are you in town?” he asked.
Her chocolate-brown eyes filled with suspicion. “I don’t think it’s any of your concern.”
“Just being courteous.”
“And while that’s very gentlemanly of you, I’m sure we’ll be too busy to see each other during my stay.”
“Look, I know this isn’t easy for you. I’m sure you feel—”
“I’m trying very hard not to feel anything.”