Run for Covers

“Why, Bruno, you really are sucking up to me.” She couldn’t help but wish Adam Grant would be as accommodating. The thought of that hot man satisfying her every desire… Mm-mm.

“Of course I’m sucking up to you, Ms. Ford.” The burly man with the balding head gave a hearty laugh. “The way to my success is through your stomach.”

And he was off to a good start as he poured her a cup of much-needed coffee, explaining his specialties and otherwise entertaining her until the bedding consultant appeared at the hostess station with barely a minute to spare.

With her white-blond hair and blue eyes, Laura Granger wasn’t only beautiful, but striking in a runway-model sort of way. Tall and slim, both features leant her a gracefulness as she wound her way through the tables, greeting guests and staff.

Tori couldn’t help but remember how pea-green her older sister used to get about Laura while they’d been attending school at Westfalls Academy. While she’d been a few years behind them, she’d been privy to her sister’s feelings on visits home.

As an adult—and an adult who made her living observing people and looking for stories—the situation made more sense. People in this town tended to compare her sister, Miranda, with Laura because of the connection between their two families.

But meeting Laura up close and personal convinced Tori that although both women were the same age, they couldn’t have been more different if they’d tried.

Miranda was delicate and dark. Laura was taller and fair. Miranda had always been social and popular, Laura the shy outcast. Miranda excelled at whatever she did. Except for dance class at Westfalls, where Laura had stolen the spotlight.

Boy, could Laura Granger dance. Tori remembered how she’d get out on that big stage in Marshall Hall and wow the audience. Like Bruno in the kitchen, Laura had been that good. Tori wondered if she hadn’t turned professional because her family couldn’t afford to train her.

But Laura seemed to have found her niche at Falling Inn Bed. It wasn’t every day that a hotel wedding coordinator had the Worldwide Travel Association send a photojournalist like Tyler Tripp. Then again, Laura wasn’t an ordinary wedding consultant by any stretch; she was the one and only bedding consultant.

She marched to her own beat, while Miranda maintained the status quo at all costs. And Tori knew those costs were high.

She watched as Laura kissed Bruno’s cheek when he told her he’d send along a waiter with espresso. Then she slipped into the chair across the table and told him they’d need some time before ordering.

“That’ll work for you, Tori?” Laura asked.

“As long as the coffee keeps coming.”

“It won’t get a chance to cool,” Bruno promised before strolling away, looking remarkably like a bull in a china shop among the turn-of-the-last-century antique tables and glassware.

Tori sipped her coffee, curious to gauge Laura’s attitude to their first interview. They’d spoken since her arrival on the property, of course. Laura had even given her a tour of the new Wedding Wing. But today they were going to get personal and, with a family history like theirs, that was saying a bunch.

“Well, who’d have ever guessed that we’d be sitting together with only a few feet of table between us?” Tori said.

“Not in my wildest dreams.” Laura smiled, and up close, her looks were even more striking.

Okay, maybe Tori should have been more sympathetic to Miranda’s plight—she certainly wouldn’t want to be compared to Laura Granger and her incredible good looks.

“So you were worried I was going to be biased,” Tori said.

“Adam told you that?”

“I asked. I figured he’d have denied it if he could have.”

“At first, perhaps,” she admitted. “But you promised you wouldn’t trash the Naughty Nuptials because of our family history, so I took you at your word. I also told everyone to take exceptional care of you or we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Tori thought of Bruno and smiled. “So I heard. Why don’t you mention it to Adam.”

Laura arched an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“Not really. He’s very…professional.” Too professional. “So what did you tell him about me?”

She needed to know everything she could to help this man have a little fun.

“Nothing more than the overview of our family history that I shared with all my co-workers. When I found out you were taking over our press. I didn’t want them to be sandbagged either way.”

“How is it they never heard about the rift between our families? I thought we were legend around Niagara Falls.”

Laura smiled then greeted the approaching waiter. Accepting the steaming mug, she sipped appreciatively. “None of them come from around here. Think of the inn’s management staff like a traveling circus troupe. My boss picked them up at the different properties she’s managed throughout her career. Our maintenance supervisor has been with her for over twenty years at five different properties.”

“That sort of loyalty is unusual, and impressive.”

“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?”