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Magnolia Bride
Magnolia Bride
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Magnolia Bride

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Nealy breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good. I’ll call Mr. Taylor. And, Crystal?”

“Yes?”

“Then I’m on vacation, okay?”

“Of course. Unless I need you.”

Crystal signed off. Nealy knew it wasn’t the last time she’d hear from the woman during her much-needed break.

In the past year, Nealy’s workload had doubled. She never complained because she appreciated the steady paycheck. With the prospect of a new client signing with them soon, her workload was about to get even more hectic.

An up-and-coming fashion designer, Ashlee James, popular with young stars, had shown an interest in hiring Milestones by Crystal to plan her clothing launch and then take care of all subsequent events. Everyone at the company had their fingers crossed the contract would come through, especially Nealy, who was tapped to lead the project. Interacting with elite clientele from Hollywood and L.A. had its moments, but Nealy logged long hours arranging an event. Did she have time for a social life? Please. Dating? Forget it. She hadn’t seen Sam, her kinda, sorta boyfriend, in three weeks. Though when it came to Sam, her workload wasn’t the only cause for the distance between them. He put in just as many hours at his office, which made their relationship status vague.

She pushed her dating woes to the back of her mind. She had more important matters to fret over. Namely, her sister’s multiple engagement parties. Yes, multiple. What had started out as an intimate gathering of friends and family to celebrate the joyous occasion soon morphed into adding an additional party to allow the senator—the fiancé’s father—to invite his political friends and financial backers so they, too, could offer their best wishes. Between the demands of the two families, her sister had booked both engagement parties for this weekend.

When Nealy’s sister Juliet had called to tell her about the engagement, she begged Nealy to plan the bigger party. Since she was marrying into an illustrious political family, Juliet wanted to impress her future in-laws. She complained because the coordinator she was working with didn’t have ideas grand enough to make an impression on the senatorial family. Juliet wanted the glitz and glamour of a Hollywood A-list event. Nealy could make that happen.

Nealy had her reservations; after all, it wasn’t as if she lived close by. Juliet put her in contact with the coordinator at the venue where both parties would take place and the two got down to business. Soon, Nealy realized her sister’s frustration with the woman. To say her ideas were lackluster was being kind. Sure, a traditional party might be nice for the quaint coastal town of Cypress Pointe, but it would never do for her sister’s opulent vision. Nealy took over and before long was working her magic from the other side of the country. Now she had only a few days to finalize the arrangements for the two events.

In addition to the engagement parties, Nealy’s second mission involved Cuppa Joe, her grandmother’s coffee shop. When her grandmother found out Nealy would be coming home, she asked Nealy to run the shop while she went on a seniors’ cruise. Growing up, the coffee shop had been Nealy’s second home. She loved the place and would do anything for her grandmother, so she agreed, but secretly wondered if she was pushing herself too hard.

She couldn’t remember the last personal day she’d taken, let alone her last real vacation. Was it the first year she worked for Milestones by Crystal? Once she decided to come home to Cypress Pointe for her sister, she’d stood firm on using the vacation days she’d accumulated, knowing once they landed the Ashlee James account, there would be no more free time for visiting family. Okay, so this had turned into a working vacation, but after years of working nonstop, could she picture herself relaxing and doing nothing? Hardly. She’d been born in high gear.

Driving past Swindler’s Ice Cream Shop, Nealy noted a young couple walking out the door, hand in hand. Her heart pinched at the sight. How many times had she and her ex met there for what they thought was a secret rendezvous? Another blast from the past. Until now, she’d kept the special memories from that summer tucked away. But really, what did she expect? Had she thought coming back to Cypress Pointe wouldn’t stir up a mess of emotions? She thought she’d recovered from her heartache, but driving through town proved challenging.

Her cell phone rang. “Not again,” she muttered, and immediately dismissed the leftover romantic notions and adopted her usual business tone. “Nealy Grainger at your service.”

“Where are you?” her sister Juliet whisper-hissed into the phone.

“About ten minutes away.”

“Step on it.”

“Mom getting on your last nerve?”

“I swear, I’m about to break something. Tonight was to be spent visiting with you. It wasn’t supposed to turn into let’s-interfere-with-every-little-detail night.”

Today, Wednesday, the women of the family were getting together to make last-minute tweaks to Nealy’s plans for the weekend. The next several days would be a whirlwind of formal social gatherings and casual meet-and-greet time as the families got to know one another.

“When did my engagement turn into a national event?” Juliet asked.

“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 both 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.”