Magnolia Bride. Tara Randel

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      Typical question most people asked when you lived in L.A., but in her case, she often met celebrities. “Yes, some.”

      “How exciting. What do you do that you meet them?”

      “Yes, Nealy,” said her father, Marshall, who cleared his throat to ask, “what do you do with your business degree?”

      Nealy wanted to roll her eyes. The fact that she hadn’t attended law school was still a point of contention between her and her parents. Growing up around adults who loved to argue and debate any and every little point of law was both tiring and a bit stuffy. Because of that, she’d never had the slightest interest in pursuing a law degree. Instead, she chose a profession that stirred her creative soul and she’d never once regretted her decision.

      Her father knew what her job entailed. He just didn’t think she contributed to the good of the world like those nearest and dearest who were socially conscious lawyers. Most of them made no secret of their political and personal causes and platforms and considered her job to be trivial and nothing but fluff. However, they, and especially her dad, had no idea that a high percentage of functions she planned were major fund-raisers for various charities benefitting children and important health issues. Charities she herself had become involved with. She didn’t explain or argue because it would only fall on deaf ears. And she wasn’t about to turn philanthropy into some sort of petty competition, either. She’d been fortunate to come into contact with a lot of worthwhile people and organizations because of her job.

      “Oh, Dad.” Nealy did her best to offer a chuckle, but knew it didn’t sound convincing. “You know my company handles large events like movie premieres, red-carpet ceremonies and after-parties. Logistics, decorating, refreshments, keeping the celebrities moving in a timely fashion, that sort of thing.”

      “Now now, you two,” Dorinda admonished, then addressed the other guests. “Speaking of celebrities, I have pictures on the wall at Cuppa Joe of Nealy posing with lots of famous people. Of course, I don’t know who half of them are, but Nealy likes to send the photos and I frame them.”

      Nealy’s mouth fell open. “You do what?”

      “I show you off,” her grandmother said.

      “Why?”

      “Because I’m proud of you, dear.”

      “You could have been an attorney,” Anita sniffed.

      “Just like the rest of the family? No, thank you.” Yes, almost the entire Grainger gang were lawyers. Her mother and father, sister Lanie and brother-in-law, David. Juliet. Even her boyfriend back in L.A.

      “At least you might marry one,” her mother said with a wishful tone.

      Nealy remained silent, refusing to acknowledge her mother’s scheming.

      Mrs. Mason, her brows drawn as she listened to the Graingers bickering, turned her attention to Nealy. “It sounds exciting.”

      “Just think of the billable hours those celebrity clients would bring in,” David remarked.

      “We aren’t moving to California, so don’t even think about it,” Lanie informed him, using her serious voice.

      “But we have a connection.”

      “Not. Moving.”

      Nealy rubbed the throbbing over her left eye.

      “I told Juliet we should go to California for our honeymoon, but she had something different in mind,” Brandon announced as he wrapped his arm around Juliet’s drooping shoulders.

      Juliet blinked when she heard her name. “What?”

      “The honeymoon,” Brandon said, raising a brow.

      “Oh. Right. The beach condo in Hawaii.” She nodded with a distracted air.

      “Sweetie, just think of the fun we’d have if we started out in California. Do the whole tourist thing before flying to Hawaii.” His face grew more animated as he warmed up to the idea of this trip. “Movie studios. Spotting celebrities. Visiting vineyards.” He frowned. “Besides, we practically live on the beach right here.”

      “Yes, but I think Hawaii’s beaches are different.”

      Brandon shrugged.

      Juliet blinked furiously.

      Oh, no. Trouble in paradise.

      “At any rate, Nealy is good at her job,” Dorinda told the group. “We’re fortunate she could take time out of her busy schedule to make it back home.”

      The discussion ebbed and the conversation drifted to local politics.

      “If you don’t mind,” Lanie said to the senator, “I’d like to get your input. I’m thinking about running for mayor and could use a few pointers.”

      David flinched. “Not that again.”

      Lanie gave him a stern look. “Yes. That again.”

      The senator smiled. “I’d be happy to help.”

      And with his participation, the conversation about the merits of Lanie running for mayor took place.

      With the spotlight of scrutiny no longer shining on her, Nealy took the opportunity to slip through the glass doors to the outside patio. Between follow-up phone calls with her crew for the event in L.A., flying cross-country and having to deal with family, jet lag had zapped her energy. She slipped off the heels she’d worn all day, and padded to the pool area, empty this time of night. Smoothing her sleeveless ivory lace dress, she dropped down on the nearest chaise to stretch out.

      Resting her head against the cushion, she gazed at the moon high in the star-filled sky. The sweet scent of a nearby southern magnolia tree wafted her way. She remembered picking the creamy, pink flowers when she worked here at the hotel. The original owner had planted the beautiful trees around the property. She was glad to see Dane had kept them in place.

      Closing her eyes, she breathed deep to lower her stress level and curb the tic still throbbing over her eye. The murmur of voices drifting from the open café at the far end of the pool lulled her senses. Her body relaxed from the stress of the hectic day. She’d started to nod off when she heard steady footsteps approaching.

      “Nealy, I need to talk to you.”

      She opened only one eye to see Dane take a seat on the edge of the chaise next to her. He leaned into her personal space. Her pulse quickened and her muscles shot to attention. Ignoring the tightening in her chest, she said, “What part of not getting in each other’s way while I’m here don’t you understand?”

      “All of it.”

      Nealy let out an annoyed breath.

      “This isn’t about you. It’s about your sister’s party.”

      Embarrassment made her cheeks heat. “Oh.”

      “The caterer is threatening to bow out of Saturday night’s big party. He’s had enough of СКАЧАТЬ