The Wager

Josh sat across from Nick Baldwin and listened to his old college friend’s side of the conversation with Laura Harte. In many ways, he and Nick were a lot alike, he thought. They both came from families whose fortunes had been made in the small luxury-hotel business. They both had grown up knowing that one day they, too, would be a part of the family business. And they both had been part of a dwindling breed of hoteliers who still retained ownership of the family hotels. Many family-owned chains like the Fairmont had done as its owners the Swigs had done—sold their interests to some Saudi prince or hotel conglomerate. The Logans hadn’t. Nor had the Jardines. And neither had the Baldwins—at least not voluntarily.

From what Nick had told him when they’d been at college, Big Jack Baldwin had managed to gamble all four family hotels away before his son hit eighteen. But from what he knew and the buzz in the industry, Nick had not only reclaimed the hotels lost by his father, he was on his way to buying more. And although Logan Hotels far outranked the Jardine and Baldwin family operations because of the number of hotel properties they held, all three families remained part of the elite group of hoteliers whose name was synonymous with luxury. Given what he’d seen of the Ambassador Grand, Nick was maintaining the tradition.

Josh grinned as he thought back to the first time he’d met Nick—a dozen years ago when the two of them had both been enrolled in the university’s hotel management program and working nights for Logan Hotels. He’d have sworn the two of them had had absolutely nothing in common. He’d pegged Nick as a West Coast prick whose rich family had used their connections to get him a job. In turn, Baldwin had pegged Josh as a dumb-wit Southern boy who didn’t know squat about hotels. They’d both been proved wrong. After several minor clashes, the two of them had been sharing drinks and dreams. The friendship had waned due to time, distance and Nick’s romance with Josh’s sister. But he’d decided to use what remained of the old friendship, anyway, as a means to reach Laura Harte. Instead of approaching Laura with Olivia’s request at her home, he’d opted to do so on neutral turf. He’d also wanted to get a chance to see her in action.

“She’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” Nick said as he hung up the phone.

“Thanks,” Josh said, dragging his thoughts back to the reason he was there—to try to convince Laura Harte to come to New Orleans and meet her family. Too edgy to sit, he stood and began to prowl the spacious office. He stopped in front of the window and admired the view of the bay. “I owe you one.”

“I’ll settle for you telling me what this personal business is you want to discuss with Laura.”

Josh paused. Turning, he studied the wary brown eyes of his old friend. “I can’t. You’ll just have to trust me when I tell you that it’s personal and I’m here as a favor to a friend.” Yet even as he said the words, guilt plagued him. He seriously doubted that Olivia could be classified as a friend. At the admission, he once again cursed his decision to take Olivia up on her crazy offer. Why had he allowed himself to be talked into this mess? Just as quickly as the question formed, so did the answer—the Princess. He wanted her. He had from the very first time his grandfather had taken him to the hotel. His chest tightened as he thought of his grandfather, the vow he’d made to one day reclaim the Princess. That vow was the reason he was here, Josh reminded himself. He hadn’t been able to turn away a chance to win her back.

“At least give me a name. Tell me who this friend of yours is?”

“Come on, Nick,” Josh said with a sigh. He walked back across the room to stand before his friend. “Listen, I tell you what. After I talk to Ms. Harte, if she wants to share the context of our conversation with you, she’s free to do so. But it’ll have to be her call. Until then, I’m asking you to back off.”

Nick frowned. His fingers curled around the pen he’d been fidgeting with since hanging up the phone. “All right. I’ll back off—for now. Just remember what I said. Laura’s been through a lot lately. She’s been sort of fragile since her mother was killed.”

“I understand. And I promise, it isn’t my intention to upset her.” Yet if what Olivia had told him about Laura Harte’s reaction to the older woman’s phone call was accurate, Josh suspected that the lady might very well be upset when she discovered why he was there.

“Then make sure you don’t. Because I’m warning you, Logan, you upset Laura and I am going to be one unhappy guy.”

Josh narrowed his gaze. “What gives, Nick? Something going on between you and Laura Harte besides business?” For some reason, the idea of his friend being involved with the woman whose photo he’d studied repeatedly since that night at Olivia’s left a foul taste in his mouth.

“You know me better than that. I have rules about mixing business and pleasure, remember?”

“Yeah. But I also remember a time when you broke those rules with my kid sister.”

Heat flashed in Nick’s eyes. He pushed back his chair and strode over to the windows that overlooked the bay. When he turned around, his expression was once more inscrutable. “That was a long time ago. It wasn’t anything serious.”

“Tell that to Faith. She blamed me when my folks shipped her off to intern at the London hotel that summer. She didn’t speak to me for months.”

“She was just a kid.”

“Yeah.” For the first time, Josh wondered if maybe he’d been wrong all those years ago. Could Nick have been more serious about Faith than he’d thought? When he’d first gotten wind that his best friend was romancing his baby sister, he’d been furious. He’d been sure Nick was just toying with Faith since he knew Nick was like him when it came to women—he enjoyed them but wasn’t interested in commitment. After he’d torn a strip off of his friend, he’d gone to his father and spilled the beans. “Faith thought she was in love with you, and she blamed me for busting you two up.”

A haunted look came across Nick’s face. He turned away, stared out the window once more. “It was for the best. Anyway, I heard she got married.”

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t around to check out the scumbag until it was too late and she married him. But I did make sure I was around to help her pick up the pieces when she came to her senses and divorced him.”

The hand Nick had jammed through his hair stilled. He turned around. “Faith’s divorced?”

“Almost a year ago.”

“I hadn’t heard,” Nick said. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out for her.”

Josh wasn’t sure what to make of Nick’s reaction. Was it possible that his friend had actually been serious about Faith?

“Listen, about Laura…I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. She’s a terrific lady. Smart, really sharp. She works hard and has a real feel for the business. She’s good. Someday she’s going to make a hell of a GM. But there isn’t anything personal going on between us. We’re friends. Good friends. But that’s all.”

Before he could stop himself Josh asked, “What about a boyfriend?”

Despite his casual tone, Nick frowned. He eyed Josh closely. “None that I know of—or at least no one serious. Laura’s career has always been her primary focus. What makes you ask?”

Josh shrugged. “Just curious.”

Nick hesitated a long moment. “Well, just remember what I told you. Laura’s been through a rough time and is kind of fragile right now. Her mother’s death hit her hard, and the poor kid doesn’t have any other family.”

Only Laura Harte did have family, Josh thought in silence. It might not be a family she wanted or accepted, but blood was blood. Nothing could change the fact that Laura Harte was a Jardine. And as a Jardine, she had a family—a grandmother, three siblings—and she was his key to finally getting back the Princess Hotel.

Four

Laura adjusted the lipstick-red scarf around her neck, then smoothed the skirt of her black dress just before the elevator dinged and the doors zipped open.

Exiting the elevator, she forced a smile on her lips as she approached the desk of Nick’s very pregnant assistant. Although Jennifer Simmons was only four years younger than her, the difference might as well have been forty. The other woman had not only married her childhood sweetheart, but she was also expecting the birth of her first child. Whereas he…she had yet to meet any man she could imagine a long-term relationship with—let alone marriage.

“Hi, Jen.”

“Thank you, God,” the other woman said, lifting her eyes heavenward before she beamed at Laura. “I was desperately in need of a break, and here you are—giving me the perfect excuse to take one.”

“To hear your boss tell it, you don’t usually need an excuse.”

Jen crinkled her nose. “Who are you going to believe? Me or the slave driver?”

“You, of course,” Laura said, grinning. “So how is the little mother-to-be feeling this afternoon?”

“Like a blimp with legs. But the champ here is doing great,” she said, smiling as she smoothed a hand over her burgeoning middle. “In fact, I’m convinced this little guy has a future as a football or soccer star.”

“Still kicking up a storm, hmm?”

“Do fish swim? Why I—” Jen gasped and clutched her stomach.

“What is it?” Laura demanded, suddenly alarmed. Fearing the baby was coming, she grabbed the phone and started to punch in 911. “Hang on. I’m calling the—” She stopped at the burst of laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Jen told her, wiping tears from her eyes as her laughter subsided. “If you could have seen the look on your face.”

Her heartbeat once again normal, Laura primly returned the phone to its cradle. “I’m glad one of us finds this amusing. You nearly scared me half to death, Jennifer Simmons. I thought you’d gone into labor,” she accused, but had difficulty acting royally miffed when she wanted to laugh, too.

“I really am sorry,” Jen said again, the last of her giggles fading. “Although I have to admit there is a part of me that wishes I had gone into labor.”

“Well, I for one am grateful that you didn’t. You’d be in worse shape than Scarlett O’Hara when she went into labor, because I don’t know anything about birthing babies.”

Jen laughed as she was meant to do. “Oh, I think you’d manage just fine.”

“Well, I’d just as soon we not find out—especially not two months early.”

“Don’t remind me,” Jen groaned. “I can’t believe I still have two whole months to go.”