The Taming of a Wild Child. Kimberly Lang

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СКАЧАТЬ even though it was now a glossy, magazine-style insert about society’s doings. There, on the cover, was a full-color picture of Vivi and Connor on their way out of the cathedral. The caption promised a full write-up and more pictures inside. Lorelei flipped to the pages. There were some great shots of the guests going into the church, and a few from the reception. Most of them focused on the star-studded guest list of Connor’s friends in the music business, but there were a few photos of New Orleans’ business and society leaders. She had made the cut, too, in a photo of the bridesmaids and Mom and Dad with Vivi, right before they went into the church. Donovan was in a picture as well, standing in a group with some city councilmen and the heads of three charitable organizations Vivi worked with.

      The picture of Donovan made her think of Callie’s parting shot, and she flipped to the editorial section to find his opinion of a bill being argued in Congress this week. It seemed well-written and impressive in its commentary, but she’d need a primer about the bill itself before she could form a cogent opinion.

      Lord, even his writing had that condescending, sarcastic tone. Donovan had a hell of a chip on his shoulder.

      She folded the newspaper decisively. Time to shake off this whole Donovan thing and move on. Forget it ever happened. She’d go to the studio, get some work done, maybe meet Callie for dinner, if not drinks. She needed to look over Vivi’s schedule, start preparing herself and firm up her plan of action. She would take center stage tomorrow. Her first big appearance in her new temporary role.

      Butterflies battered her insides. It was stage fright—but not because she would be center stage. This was make or break time. If she screwed this up, she’d only prove to everyone that she really was a flaky screw-up, an airhead with only her trust fund going for her. But if it went well … She sighed. If it went well she’d be on her way—not just “the other LaBlanc girl” anymore. The last six months had been building toward this moment, and the pressure was doing bad things to her.

      It was just one more reason why she needed to forget about what happened with Donovan and focus on what was important. Staying busy was a very good idea; it would give her mind something to think about other than Donovan, and soon enough she’d be past this whole embarrassing situation.

      She picked up her coffee cup and the society section again, intending to set it aside for Vivi, when her own name caught her eye.

      Several of the younger guests continued the celebrations long into the night, keeping the bar open and the staff hopping. Lorelei LaBlanc, sister of the bride and Maid of Honor, swapped her bridesmaid’s dress for a flirty, sparkly number and danced the night away with some of the city’s most eligible bachelors. Interestingly, she and the most eligible bachelor of all, journalist and TV commentator Donovan St. James, seemed to be quite friendly—much to the dismay of the other eligible bachelors and bachelorettes.

      Lorelei nearly dropped her coffee.

      Oh, merde.

      St. James Media looked like any average office building from the outside, but within the company the building was called “Whiz Castle.” It had been built on the success of an infomercial for the unfortunately named Toilet Whiz, which had taken the company from struggling to superstar nearly overnight and made them the largest direct response and infomercial production company in the South. His father had an original Toilet Whiz framed and hanging outside Studio One in a place of honor.

      The sight still made Donovan laugh every time he passed it. Part of Donovan’s success as a TV personality came from the fact he always seemed to be amused about something when the cameras rolled; only a few people knew it was because he’d just passed a framed Toilet Whiz.

      Donovan had an office right down the hall from his father’s, but he rarely used it. He wasn’t a part of the business—infomercials had given him a comfortable checking-account balance and paid his college tuition, but he wasn’t interested in the actual production of them—but since his siblings had offices in the building Dad had given him one, too.

      He could have used it, but he far preferred to work in his own space, where there were fewer distractions and his tendency to work odd hours went unquestioned. Because he was so rarely there, his office had a sterile, unlived-in feeling. It was expertly and expensively decorated, and it gave him a place to hang plaques and pictures and things, but he couldn’t actually work in there.

      He was using the studios more often these days, though, as his TV appearance schedule picked up. Their facilities and staff were truly top-notch, and he’d found he rather liked using the family’s home field. His brothers had even expanded the studio’s capabilities, and St. James Media was getting traffic from a lot of famous faces these days.

      Maybe he had contributed something to the family business, after all.

      However, it was proving quite handy to have the office to use as a place to drop off his stuff and put on a tie before he went on air. Unknotting the noose around his neck, he headed back toward his office, ready to go home.

      His father’s secretary followed him down the long hallway, talking a mile a minute, and he listened with half an ear. As he opened his office door and saw Lorelei sitting on the low sofa under the window, he wished he’d paid a bit more attention.

       How had she known he’d be here?

      He closed the door behind him. “Lorelei. This is … unexpected.”

      She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, really?” Sarcasm dripped off her words.

      “Yeah. Your ‘have a nice life’ statement kind of implied you wouldn’t be dropping by to chat.”

      “That was before we made the newspaper.”

      “We?”

      “Yes, we.” She sounded downright irritated about it.

      “When? For what?”

      “This morning. In the write-up about the wedding.”

      “And you came by to tell me about it?”

      “I rather assumed you’d already know.”

      This was obviously going to take more than just a minute. He sat on the edge of his desk. “Uh, no. I usually skip that part of the paper.”

      “Well, it might not be as far-reaching as that transportation bill, but it certainly rocks this little part of the world.”

      The mention of his column caught him off-guard. He wouldn’t have thought Lorelei read the editorial section of any newspaper. And normally he’d be surprised that the mention of something two private citizens possibly did at a private function could be considered earth-rocking in any part of the world, but he’d humor her for the moment. “What did it say?”

      In response, Lorelei pulled a torn page out of her purse and shoved it at him. It took a second for him to get through a rundown of the guest list, what everyone was wearing and a description of the ice sculptures, but finally he found Lorelei’s name and his. He turned the paper over, looking for more, but on the back was an advertisement for a casino. “That’s it?”

      Lorelei’s jaw dropped. “You don’t think that’s enough?”

      “I don’t actually see the problem, Lorelei.”

      She looked on the edge of a sputter. СКАЧАТЬ