“Ms. J is an impressive woman.”
“Okay, so official interview time.” Reaching into her bag and grabbing her voice-activated recorder, Tori plunked it on the table and got to business. “For the record, what makes this hotel so special?”
“Falling Inn Bed is a place where couples can focus on romance. We’re not a singles-type of resort, where men go to meet women or vice versa. We’re a place that helps our couples focus on what’s important—making the most of being in love.”
“That’s spin.”
“It’s true.”
Impressed that Laura didn’t hesitate to measure her words, Tori decided that the media-handling skills so rampant on her mother’s side of the family weren’t necessarily a side effect of living with politicians.
“Since none of this is in your promotional brochure, I’ll take you at your word. You have a very romantic view of what you do around here.”
Laura laughed. “I’ve been accused of being a romantic idealist.”
“Really?” Romantic idealism had to come from somewhere and discovering where might be an important key to understanding the whole picture of the bedding consultant. “I imagine romantic idealism serves you very well on this job.”
“Especially with the Wedding Wing. I create fantasies for my newlyweds. Each one’s as individual as the couple itself.”
“I’ve heard about some of the fantasies you create. What I caught of your Wild, Wild Weddings campaign last week was impressive. The Sex Toy Shower. The Bad Bachelor/ette Parties. The Racy Rehearsal Dinner. Neat stuff. I’m sure your honorary bridal couple was impressed with the fantasy you created for them. Speaking of, what honeymoon suite did they spend their wedding night in?”
“The Shangri-la Paradise.”
“Sounds romantic. I lucked out with the Wedding Knight Suite. All those bondage goodies to play with.” The potential for fun was endless. If she could get Adam to play.
Laura smiled, looking quite pleased. “The Wedding Wing has a suite for every fantasy.”
“So who came up with these ideas?”
“I did. My parents helped me conceptualize them, though, and you’ve met our architect, Dale Emerson. He and his company made everything a reality.”
“Dale Emerson, your date.”
She nodded and Tori noted a hint of color rise in her cheeks. “Yes, he’s that, too.”
“He’s a lot more, from what I hear. I’ve got connections downtown, and I heard his firm pulled applications from the licensing department. Is he opening offices in town?”
Laura reached forward and turned the recorder off. She looked so serious that Tori’s reporter’s instincts went wild.
“If you want to discuss Dale,” she said, “it’ll have to be off the record. And I would like to know why you’re interested in my personal life. You’re covering the grand opening.”
“But my slant is you, and what you’re doing here. Tyler can go mainstream with his documentary, but I need to appeal to my readers. There’s a local angle here that’ll launch my story into the major leagues. I won’t pass it up.”
“Our family history.”
“The Fords and the Grangers together for the first time since Westfalls. Not to mention a romance resort in town that our conservative grandfather has been curiously silent about.”
“He’s not our grandfather. He might technically be my mother’s father, but I’ve never met the man. As far as your grandfather’s concerned, I don’t exist.”
Tori considered that for a moment to decide on her line of questioning. The history between their families was as much a draw around here as erotic artist Mireille Marceaux was a mystery. Their family connection was another card in her hand that she could play to make her coverage something special, and since she intended to capitalize on this local angle, it wouldn’t hurt to get Laura’s read on the whole deal.
“I don’t think that’s entirely true,” she said. “Our grandfather has acknowledged you.”
“How?”
“By his silence.”
Laura narrowed her crystal blue gaze. “The senator hasn’t been silent. He made a statement a long time ago.”
Tori shook her head. “The senator talked around you. He spouted stuff about supporting values of traditional couples and businesses that bring tourist dollars into our local economy. But that’s not endorsing a romance resort. He didn’t criticize it, either, and people noticed. I’m the municipal reporter in this town. I hear the gossip on my beat.”
“The senator didn’t attend Miranda’s wedding,” Laura pointed out. “I assumed that meant he didn’t want people to mistakenly think he was in contact with a Granger.”
“Grandfather didn’t attend Miranda’s wedding because the Senate got called into special session. He’d planned to come.”
Laura set her cup on the table and sat back in her chair, looking disbelieving. “Are you saying you think my involvement here might have something to do with him not taking a stand against the inn?”
“I think it’s possible. Think about it, Laura. You might be spinning sex from the romance angle, but you’re still spinning sex. There’s a reason he’s handling this inn the way he is, and I think you’re it.”
Tori didn’t give her a chance to think about the implications of that statement. She’d planted the seed and that was enough for now. Hopefully, the seed would take root, and Laura would want to talk some more about their family history. Until then, though, Tori had an opportunity to steer the conversation in another direction.
“So tell me, if your date is pulling permits to open an office in town, do I assume that means Falling Inn Bed has worked its magic on you and Dale Emerson?”
Laura’s careful expression melted away, and she got a soft look in her eyes. “Dale says the magic’s contagious, and no one who walks through our doors is exempt. Not our featured bridal couple. Not even the bedding consultant or the man who built the Wedding Wing.”
“Contagious, hm? Now that’s a theory I haven’t heard about.”
But it was one that had promise. Tori could use all the help she could get in her quest to get Adam to enjoy the grand opening celebration. And when Laura waxed poetic about marriage proposals on construction sites and falling in love with her handsome architect, Tori thought she might just stand a chance at helping the hunky assistant GM catch some magic.
ADAM HADN’T STOPPED running since he’d opened his eyes this morning, though Laura had left Sunday a free day in their Naughty Nuptials schedule to give their newlyweds a chance to rest after the excitement of the wedding day. Guests had been checking out all morning, while the inn staff had been regrouping for the week of Risqué Receptions events ahead.
Adam had been looking forward to working out and a break from Tori Ford, but instead had found himself cleverly roped into giving her a tour of the hotel when he caught up with her midmorning at Bruno’s place.
In the time since he’d last seen her, Adam had mentally reviewed all the reasons why he didn’t want to involve himself with a woman who believed in fun for fun’s sake, no matter how much his body urged him otherwise. He believed this little exercise had done the trick.
That was, of course, until he’d set eyes on her in a sundress that left her shoulders bare and too much cleavage swelling above the bodice. With red waves bouncing down her back as she moved past the hostess station, Adam had to admit that discipline wasn’t holding up in the face of the