the wedding?” Audrey asked her dad.
“We had never set a date.”
“So why now?”
“You’ve seen the financial statements. We need a big opening for this hotel. A high-profile wedding will really showcase our special-events capabilities.”
“So I’ve got one month to plan the whole thing?”
“We’ll make the engagement announcement in two weeks to start generating a buzz.”
“When I talked to Reg on the phone a couple of days ago, he didn’t sound certain that he was on board with doing the wedding now.”
“Connor has concerns about their financial position, as well. The Murphys need this hotel launch as much as we do.”
“Gee, I’m glad my future has been reduced to profit and loss statements.”
“You know that’s not the only reason. Come on now, you’re twenty-eight. Reg is, what, thirty-six?”
“You’re right, Dad, I’m virtually an old maid.”
“You can’t blame a couple of fathers for pushing to get their kids to settle down. We want to see you two create a life together. You both work too hard. You should enjoy yourselves. Bring us grandchildren. Not to mention the next generation of hoteliers and restaurateurs.”
“Dad, we’ve talked about that. Children are not in the picture.” Not after what Audrey had been through. That was nonnegotiable.
“Never say never.”
They moved to the spacious office’s reception area, where each sat down on one of armchairs that faced the floor-to-ceiling windows. Audrey took in the view of a couple of the huge hotels and casinos on the Las Vegas Strip, and the majestic red mountains behind them in the distance.
The Hotel Girard Las Vegas sat on a small piece of real estate in between two of the giant monoliths on the Strip. It was originally built in the early 1960s as the Royal Neva Hotel, a sort of bargain casino with one-penny slot machines for visitors who weren’t high rollers staying at the big palaces. The lone restaurant had offered two-dollar breakfast specials and the four floors of guest rooms were dirt cheap. The hotel never had the Rat Pack panache of Vegas’s heyday, but the architecture was in the midcentury style that defined that era. When it went on sale after closing due to lack of upkeep, the Girards decided to make their first foray in Las Vegas.
With two hundred hotel rooms, as opposed to the three and four thousand of its neighbors, the Girards set out to refurbish the property to appeal to the trend toward boutique hotels, which were their specialty. There’d be no noisy casino. Instead, luxurious suites and amenities, a splendid rooftop pool, unique special-event spaces and exclusive cocktail lounges would provide a chic den for hip guests. The crème de la crème would be Shane’s Table, a world-class dining establishment to attract travelers and Vegas locals alike.
Unfortunately, they’d encountered one problem after the next with the project. The original structure was in far worse condition than was initially thought. There had been mold and rot within the walls that required a costly teardown in sections of the hotel. Partial renovations during the years before the Girards bought the property hadn’t included solar power or technical upgrades, and energy costs were double what they should have been.
There had been other setbacks to the business, as well, beginning three years ago when Audrey’s mother was dying and Daniel was distracted from his duties as CEO.
“I think weddings are going to do it for us at this hotel,” Daniel said enthusiastically.
Audrey’s business mind agreed. “Special-occasion bookings will bring us a lot of revenue. We have so many great event spaces with this hotel. Showing off the property with a lavish wedding should be publicity gold.”
“The marriage of hotel and restaurant royalty will brand the hotel with glamour that will stick in people’s minds.”
“I had some ideas on the flight here. We can shoot the engagement tea in the garden and a guys’ night out at the cigar lounge this week. We’ll calendar the press releases and photo spreads to hit after the engagement announcement. No one will know we shot the events ahead of time.”
“You and Reg will be an imperial couple. It’ll be the romance Las Vegas has always been known for.”
Except for the actual romance part, Audrey thought. That was not in her plans. Love was a gamble she wasn’t going to bet on. Love involved trust. She’d never fall for that hoax again.
Which is why she had become so contented with the agreement that she and Reg would wed. Yes, the arranged matrimony felt a bit like something involving territorial feudal kingdoms and armies. Yet, in a different light, having their future spouses decided by their fathers was a smart outsourcing of labor that neither she nor Reg had the time for.
The two were friendly toward each other. They had dinner if they were in the same city, spoke on the phone and had discussed the challenges that their lifestyles would bring to the marriage. With seven Girard hotels throughout the world and a soon-to-be third Shane’s Table, they both traveled to and from their businesses almost all of the time and didn’t foresee that changing. Reg was a workaholic just like Audrey.
Any comradery they could share would be healthy for her. Currently, she spent what little free time she had by herself. After a childhood where she’d so often been alone, pairing with someone would be a blessing.
She and Reg had concurred that while romantic love was right for some people, it wasn’t for them. That compatibility was crucial. What a relief it would be to answer the social pressures to couple off, to find a significant other. There would be no more questions about her dating life from the well-meaning staff at the hotels. She’d always have a companion for events. There might even be shared hobbies and simple dinner-and-movie dates. The list went on.
Most importantly, it was utterly perfect that Reg had zero sex appeal. What Audrey surely didn’t need was a man like Reg’s brother, chef Shane. A hot-blooded beast who dripped raw power and primitive demands. Reg would never make her pulse flutter like Shane had since the moment she met him. Never cause her to shiver in anticipation of his every move. Never keep her up at night imagining secret pleasures.
“Is Shane on track with his cookbook?” Audrey asked her dad.
“I hear that’s not going as smoothly as it should.”
She wrinkled her nose, although the information didn’t surprise her. With Shane Murphy’s bad-boy chef reputation, not to mention his wife’s sudden death two years ago, being behind on a deadline would come as no shock.
A peculiar warmth flushed down her neck when she thought of the photo of Shane she’d seen recently on a magazine cover, his almost-black eyes piercing whoever looked at the image. Her reaction to even a photograph of him was involuntary but a little embarrassing, especially as he was to become her brother-in-law. Anything to do with Shane seemed to affect her on a chemical level that she had no control over.
“I’ll check into it. Not having the cookbook on schedule could turn into a major problem.” Shane Murphy’s first cookbook was another essential component of the publicity schedule for the Vegas opening.
“Shane is cooking dinner for you and Reg tonight at the restaurant. You can talk about it then.”
Daniel filled his daughter in on the outcome of a meeting he’d had with the human-resources director earlier that day while she’d been on the flight. And about a resolution with a furniture distributor for their hotel in St. Thomas.
Mention of the island brought a wry half smile to Audrey’s face with the memory of that weird moment with Shane a decade ago. To this day, the recollection still replayed often in her mind.
It was at the Hotel Girard St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands that she’d first met the Murphy brothers. When she’d first encountered the volcanic force of nature known as chef Shane Murphy.