the most outside-the-box successes of the last two years. She seems to know everyone, do everything. She…” Diana stopped, wrinkled her nose and took a deep breath before continuing. “She kicks ass.”
Amazed she’d finally used his given name, Mitch gave a snort of laughter at the uptight way she said ass. Amusement faded as he glanced again at the photo of his ex-fiancée.
When had she gone into event planning? And how the hell had she stuck with it long enough to be such a success? He had to admit, though, she had the intelligence and creativity to make it happen, although she’d always tried to hide the brains behind a flirty flutter of her lashes. She was definitely a social butterfly. He recalled the guest list for their aborted wedding. It had read like the who’s who of People magazine.
It was the memory of that damned wedding, the humiliation of standing alone in front of all those gawking and snickering witnesses, that cinched it. Mitch ground his teeth, long-simmering anger burning in his gut. Belle might have great ideas, be clever and well-connected. But when the chips were down, she couldn’t be counted on.
“She’s a flake,” he finally said.
“She’s the best.” Diana held up a sheaf of papers, all recommending Eventfully Yours. “Everything I’ve heard, all the research I did says that Belle Forsham is the It Girl of events. She’s the hottest thing on the west coast.”
Ambition fought with ego. The good of his company versus the biggest humiliation of his past. His need to see Belle again, to see if she was still that intriguing combination of sexy and sweet, battled with his desire to keep the door to that part of his history nailed shut.
Mitch looked over the resort grounds again, the gentle beauty of the sun-gilded lake beckoning him. Reminding him to do his best. A lot was riding on this deal. He’d sunk all his available resources into making this resort the most luxurious, the most welcoming. None of that would matter without guests with big enough wallets to indulge themselves.
He’d screwed himself into a corner once because of Belle Forsham. Or because of his desire to screw her, to be exact. He’d never wanted a woman the way he’d wanted Belle. But she’d been his boss’s only child and off-limits. His old-fashioned upbringing and his worry that he’d be disrespecting Franklin if he had wild monkey sex with the guy’s daughter had inspired him to the dumbest proposal of his life. Well, that and his idiotic belief that he’d fallen in love with her.
He’d handled it all wrong. He could see that now, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d dumped him at the altar, and because of her he’d lost both his job and the respect of his mentor. Which bothered him almost as much as never having the wild Belle-against-the-wall sex he’d wanted so badly.
And he was supposed to welcome her back in his life? Was he willing to make a deal with the sexiest little devil he’d ever known in order to ensure his success?
He thought of his team. They were just as invested in the resort as he was. Because Mitch had little experience in the resort business, he’d brought in two managers—one to oversee the hotel, the other to run the three restaurants. He was the money man, the one with the vision, but he needed each of them on board to handle the hundred-plus employees and make sure the day to day of the operation ran smoothly while he made his vision a reality.
He glanced at the family picture behind his desk. He knew his family took great pride in his accomplishments, just as they had huge expectations for his success. Expectations that included supporting his grandmother and providing jobs for four of his cousins in his company. Those expectations were both a source of pride and a noose around his neck. He had to succeed.
The resort already had enough problems. On top of the usual construction glitches and startup issues, they’d been having a run of bad luck. Losing his event coordinator was just the last in a long string of unexplained setbacks. Could he afford to blow off the perfect planner out of pride?
Damn. He sighed and pushed the file on the desk toward Diana.
“Check her availability.”
“THERE’S ONLY one man who’ll satisfy you. Quit stalling and go for it, already.”
Belle Forsham stopped pacing across the lush amethyst carpet of her office to roll her eyes at her best friend and business partner. The office was a quirky combination of trendy accessories, sexy textures and practical lines. Much like Belle herself.
“It’s not like chasing some guy down for hot sex, Sierra. This is serious. We’re talking business here. My father’s business. Or should I say, the end of my father’s business.”
“Exactly. You want to save Forsham Hotels, you need to get help.” Sierra flipped open the pink bakery box she’d brought in for their morning meeting and, after a careful perusal, chose a carrot-cheesecake muffin.
Not even looking at the other offerings, Belle automatically went for the fanciest muffin. Rich, chocolaty and decadent, just the way she liked it. Except she was so stressed, she put it down after one bite. Why waste the indulgence?
“I don’t need help,” she lied.
“Yes, you do. It’s not like you and I can plan an event that will save your dad’s butt,” Sierra shot back, referring to their company, Eventfully Yours, as she licked cream-cheese icing from her thumb.
They were the elite event planners on the west coast, catering to the rich and famous from southern California up to Monterey. Combining Sierra’s fearless attitude and Belle’s knack for creative entertainment, the two women had hit the Hollywood scene hard and strong four years back. Eventfully Yours had grown from organizing themed play dates for sitcom divas’ Pomeranians to arranging intimate soirees for A-list actors and five hundred of their closest friends.
“You know, now that I think about it, I really shouldn’t be going behind my father’s back,” Belle stalled, sitting on the edge of her inlaid rosewood desk. “He’d be the first to say his heart attack is no reason to treat him like an invalid. If he wanted to make a deal to save the hotels, he’d do it himself.”
Used to Belle’s habit of squirreling out of anything that made her uncomfortable, Sierra just stared. It was that uncompromising, see-all-the-way-into-her-soul look that Belle hated. Whenever Sierra narrowed her blue eyes and shot her that look, Belle felt like a total wuss.
“Don’t you think if my dad wanted to deal with Mitch Carter, he’d approach him himself?” she asked, playing her last excuse.
“Right. Your dad, upstanding guy that he is, is gonna go begging help from the man he fired from a dream VP position and partnership in one of the primo hotel conglomerates in the U.S. The same guy his daughter ditched at the altar.”
“Exactly,” Belle exclaimed, jumping up from her perch on the desk to throw her arms in the air. “Given our sucky history, why would you think Mitch wants anything to do with me?”
Sierra arched a brow, then gave a little shrug. Taking her time, she dusted the crumbs off her fingers, shifted in the plush chair and curled her long legs under her. Raising one brow, she tapped a manicured nail on her bare ankle.
“This is the guy who refused to have sex with you before marriage. I figure he has some twisted belief in things like honor.”
Sierra rolled her eyes at her own words. Always the cynic, she didn’t understand the concept of selfless honor. Of course, neither did Belle. But it sure sounded sweet.
“This would also be the same guy who, despite having the perfect opportunity to make your daddy’s life a living hell when you ruined their deal, simply shook hands and walked away.”
Walked away and left her daddy holding a piece of investment property that, because of zoning and development legalities, was now taking his business down the toilet. But considering what Belle had done, that wasn’t really Mitch’s fault. Was it?
“So he’s freaking hero material,” she muttered. “So what?”
Belle