She broke visual contact, but from the corner of her eye she saw his imposing form coming her way. This time, instead of the urge to run, she stood her ground. She had to in order to get through the next few days. That meant establishing some ground rules.
“Excuse me, I have to, um, do something,” Juliet mumbled, leaving Nealy alone with Dane.
She summoned her courage and spoke frankly.
“Look, Dane, I understand this is your hotel and the parties are going to take place here, but I’ll stay out of your way if you’ll stay out of mine.”
He stared at her for a long drawn-out moment then strode from the room.
Nealy watched him go. What, no parting jabs? No last word? He’d given in too easily, which was not like Dane. Or at least the Dane that she remembered.
Maybe he’d changed after all.
ON THURSDAY NIGHT, Nealy sat in one of the Grand Cypress’s private event rooms, the French doors wide open to emit a soft June breeze. Everyone lingered over dessert, delicious strawberry shortcake, that followed a superb dinner of roasted herb chicken and grilled vegetables, catered by the hotel’s four-star restaurant. Nealy sipped her coffee, eyeing members of her family and the family of Juliet’s fiancé, Brandon Mason. The Masons seemed like nice people, for political elite, but Nealy felt an uncomfortable vibe between the clans. Juliet had been quiet and withdrawn all night. Brandon hadn’t seemed to notice.
This couldn’t be good.
“Nealy, Juliet tells me you work in L.A.?” Mrs. Mason asked.
“I do.”
“Do you know many movie stars?”
Typical question most people asked when you lived in L.A., but in her case, she often met celebrities. “Yes, some.”
“How exciting. What do you do that you meet them?”
“Yes, Nealy,” said her father, Marshall, who cleared his throat to ask, “what do you do with your business degree?”
Nealy wanted to roll her eyes. The fact that she hadn’t attended law school was still a point of contention between her and her parents. Growing up around adults who loved to argue and debate any and every little point of law was both tiring and a bit stuffy. Because of that, she’d never had the slightest interest in pursuing a law degree. Instead, she chose a profession that stirred her creative soul and she’d never once regretted her decision.
Her father knew what her job entailed. He just didn’t think she contributed to the good of the world like those nearest and dearest who were socially conscious lawyers. Most of them made no secret of their political and personal causes and platforms and considered her job to be trivial and nothing but fluff. However, they, and especially her dad, had no idea that a high percentage of functions she planned were major fund-raisers for various charities benefitting children and important health issues. Charities she herself had become involved with. She didn’t explain or argue because it would only fall on deaf ears. And she wasn’t about to turn philanthropy into some sort of petty competition, either. She’d been fortunate to come into contact with a lot of worthwhile people and organizations because of her job.
“Oh, Dad.” Nealy did her best to offer a chuckle, but knew it didn’t sound convincing. “You know my company handles large events like movie premieres, red-carpet ceremonies and after-parties. Logistics, decorating, refreshments, keeping the celebrities moving in a timely fashion, that sort of thing.”
“Now now, you two,” Dorinda admonished, then addressed the other guests. “Speaking of celebrities, I have pictures on the wall at Cuppa Joe of Nealy posing with lots of famous people. Of course, I don’t know who half of them are, but Nealy likes to send the photos and I frame them.”
Nealy’s mouth fell open. “You do what?”
“I show you off,” her grandmother said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m proud of you, dear.”
“You could have been an attorney,” Anita sniffed.
“Just like the rest of the family? No, thank you.” Yes, almost the entire Grainger gang were lawyers. Her mother and father, sister Lanie and brother-in-law, David. Juliet. Even her boyfriend back in L.A.
“At least you might marry one,” her mother said with a wishful tone.
Nealy remained silent, refusing to acknowledge her mother’s scheming.
Mrs. Mason, her brows drawn as she listened to the Graingers bickering, turned her attention to Nealy. “It sounds exciting.”
“Just think of the billable hours those celebrity clients would bring in,” David remarked.
“We aren’t moving to California, so don’t even think about it,” Lanie informed him, using her serious voice.
“But we have a connection.”
“Not. Moving.”
Nealy rubbed the throbbing over her left eye.
“I told Juliet we should go to California for our honeymoon, but she had something different in mind,” Brandon announced as he wrapped his arm around Juliet’s drooping shoulders.
Juliet blinked when she heard her name. “What?”
“The honeymoon,” Brandon said, raising a brow.
“Oh. Right. The beach condo in Hawaii.” She nodded with a distracted air.
“Sweetie, just think of the fun we’d have if we started out in California. Do the whole tourist thing before flying to Hawaii.” His face grew more animated as he warmed up to the idea of this trip. “Movie studios. Spotting celebrities. Visiting vineyards.” He frowned. “Besides, we practically live on the beach right here.”
“Yes, but I think Hawaii’s beaches are different.”
Brandon shrugged.
Juliet blinked furiously.
Oh, no. Trouble in paradise.
“At any rate, Nealy is good at her job,” Dorinda told the group. “We’re fortunate she could take time out of her busy schedule to make it back home.”
The discussion ebbed and the conversation drifted to local politics.
“If you don’t mind,” Lanie said to the senator, “I’d like to get your input. I’m thinking about running for mayor and could use a few pointers.”
David flinched. “Not that again.”
Lanie gave him a stern look. “Yes. That again.”
The senator smiled. “I’d be happy to help.”
And with his participation, the conversation about the merits of Lanie running for mayor took place.
With the spotlight of scrutiny no longer shining on her, Nealy took the opportunity to slip through the glass doors to the outside patio. Between follow-up phone calls with her crew for the event in L.A., flying cross-country and having to deal with family, jet lag had zapped her energy. She slipped off the heels she’d worn all day, and padded to the pool area, empty this time of night. Smoothing her sleeveless ivory lace dress, she dropped down on the nearest chaise to stretch out.
Resting her head against the cushion, she gazed at the moon high in the star-filled sky. The sweet scent of a nearby southern magnolia tree wafted her way. She remembered picking the creamy, pink flowers when she worked here at the hotel. The original owner had planted the beautiful trees around the property. She was glad to see Dane had kept them in place.