Beau couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This had nothing to do with my mother. I don’t even think of her. Paige’s mom is my mom. Period. I am happy. Running this bar makes me happy. Let me buy it from you. I’ll run it and the hotel, make it a success, and give you the break you deserve.”
Rich shook his head. “I’ll let you continue to lease the bar, and after you’re married, we’ll talk about you buying it.”
Beau clenched his hands in frustration. “You realize that is archaic and downright old-fashioned, right?”
Rich shrugged. “I might have heard that before.”
“Hi, Rich,” Paige said, coming in the door. “Beau.”
Beau nodded to his sister as he finished placing the vases on the tables and headed back to the closet.
“Looks like your conference will be a success; we have a full house,” Rich said.
“I sure hope so. That’s why I’m here. Beau, I need your help at the chalet this weekend.”
Beau closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face his sister. He knew what she wanted. He wished just once she would come to him. But Paige was a force of nature—like an avalanche plowing down everything in its path. He learned long ago it was easier to go with whatever she needed rather than try to fight her. Paige never backed down. But he wasn’t giving in easily. Not without getting a little something in return.
“No way. I still have scars from last year’s wedding convention.” He barely made it through the weekend alive. “Besides Saturday night is Valentine’s, and we have a lot to do to prepare for the party. Like Rich said, we have a full house.”
“Good luck, Beau,” Rich said with a chuckle and headed back to the front of the hotel.
“Listen, I took a chance by moving up the conference to this weekend and closing down the chalet to the skiers at the height of the season for this event. It’s Valentine’s Day weekend. This conference has to be a success. And you, dear brother, are a draw. And besides, I can’t manage it all on my own.”
“Oh, so you want to use me as eye candy bait?”
She smirked. “Would that be so bad?”
“Some of those women are man-eaters.” He knew that all too well.
“Yeah, I didn’t see you hating it that much last year.”
“An error in judgment I don’t want to repeat. Besides, Rich says I have to stop my philandering ways and find a nice girl to settle down with and get married.”
She barked out a laugh. “Yeah, right.”
“What, you don’t think I can?”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Okay, maybe she was right.
“Come on, Beau. Help us. Mom and I can’t do it all on our own.”
“What about the bar?” He gestured his arms wide, spreading them out to encompass the empty bar.
She looked at him with raised brows. “I doubt you’ll be too busy.”
“It’s still early.”
“Right, I’m sure Sam can manage on his own during the days this weekend. It’s three days, and you’ll only be twenty minutes away. Plus, you’ll be able to come home after dinner. This place doesn’t get rocking until after nine p.m. anyway.”
She was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted any part of her wedding convention; just the thought of it gave him the hives. Not that he had much choice, and they both knew it.
“Three days, Beau, you can manage.”
“I hate weddings and all that fairy-tale stuff.”
“I know you do,” she agreed. “But you love women, and they will overrun this place this weekend. In fact, since the hotel sold out, it will be a virtual female smorgasbord.”
“You think that will convince me?”
A slow grin spread across her face. “Yep.”
“Well, maybe a little. I just hope Candy won’t be here again this year. That woman chewed me up and spit me out last year. She was way too much to handle.”
“Sorry, bro. She’s registered.”
“Great.”
“Look, all you have to do is back me up and make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Sounds terrific,” he mumbled.
“Please. I’ll owe you. Mom needs this convention to stay afloat, and I’m guessing you and Rich do, too.”
“You could say that. Fine. I’ll help you on one condition.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Two things. Help me with Rich. He’s running this place into the ground and won’t consider selling me the bar until I’m married, and we both know that will never happen.”
“Don’t say never. But considering the slim pickings in this town of two hundred and sixty, you might be right. Perhaps you should start going into Tahoe more often. Or better yet, take advantage of the one hundred and twenty-four women coming to the conference this weekend. I bet one of them will fit the bill.”
“Hilarious.”
“I know, aren’t I? What’s the second thing?”
“Help me at the bar Saturday night. I’m expecting a huge crowd.”
She clapped her hands together. “Deal. That’s easier than finding you a fiancé. Registration starts at eight a.m. tomorrow morning.”
“I’m here until two a.m. every night. When will I sleep?”
“Three days, Beau. It’s only three days.”
When he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, the door chimed, and a large group of women poured in. Candy was leading the pack.
“Hi, Beau,” she said through glossy red lips. “I was hoping you’d be here.”
Paige grinned. “See you at eight.”
“Damn.”
Chapter Three
The next morning, Phoebe pulled out of the parking lot of the coffee shop down the street from the inn and continued through the quaint little one-street town, then up the hill toward the ski resort where the conference was being held. Her phone rang. She looked down at the display and saw the number for her best friend, Carrie.
“Good morning,” she answered.
“It’s Valentine’s Day weekend. I’m putting it out there in the universe. You will find the man of your dreams and have a heart-stopping Valentine’s Day.”
Phoebe’s mind immediately flashed to Mr. Gorgeous with the chocolate-brown eyes. “No, thank you. I’m giving up on men for a while. They are emotionally stunted with no clue how to deal with or share their feelings.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that...” Carrie said.
“That’s because you’re already married. You’ve drunk the Kool-Aid. But deep down, you know I’m right. I’m not sure they even feel as deeply as we do.”
“You can’t judge every man by Sam. Stop giving him so much power over your life. He doesn’t deserve another thought, and he shouldn’t be the reason you don’t find happiness with someone else. There are great guys out there; you just have to be open to finding one.”
“No, thanks. Too much trouble and not enough reward. I’m focusing on my career. I’ve already wasted too much time thinking about my heart and ignoring my dreams.”
“I thought your dream was to get married?”
“So did I, but then I realized it wasn’t the marriage I wanted, but the wedding. So instead of planning a wedding for myself, I will plan weddings for other people. I’ve never been more excited about anything in my life.”
“No reason you can’t have both,” Carrie insisted.
Phoebe scowled. “I’m not real good at multi-tasking, and this new career change will take up all my energy. I’m so excited about this conference. My freelance work has been great, but it’s shown me what I really want to do is to be a part of the wedding from the inception through the final day. I want to see the bride get her happily ever after.”
“Instead of trying to find yours?”
Phoebe bristled, then took a long drink of her coffee and ignored the comment. “This conference will show me how to be a great planner and allow me to network with the best.”
“I know you will make it hap
pen and be an awesome planner.”
“Thanks, Carrie. How’s that adorable little goddaughter of mine?”
“Precocious and cuter that words can say. I can’t stop looking at her. What about that big contract you’ve been worried about? Did you finish the pieces?”
“No, but I brought everything with me and worked on them past midnight last night. I made good progress. I’ll get them done.”
“Okay, call me if you need help. I love Tahoe.”
Phoebe looked around her as she drove up the road. “I do, too. In the summer. But I’m about a half hour outside of Tahoe up some lonely mountain road. The village is quaint, and they have a great coffee shop. I saw a cute bakery. But mostly all I see is snow, which is a little terrifying.”
Carrie laughed. “It’s just a little snow. Enjoy it.”
Phoebe looked at the large piles taller than her car pushed to the sides of the road by the snowplows. “Yeah, just a little. Oh good, there’s the ski chalet. I’m here.”
“What’s it look like?”
“The place that will change my life. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, good luck!”
Phoebe hung up and pulled into the empty parking lot. Registration for the conference starts at eight a.m. sharp. It was seven fifty. She wasn’t that early. Where was everyone? The bar was busy all the way to closing at two a.m. Luckily, she was awake and working anyway, because she could hear everything.
She even heard when that hottie bartender she would not think about went to his room next door. She heard his shower and just the thought of him naked on the other side of her wall kept her from getting a peaceful night’s sleep. She tossed and turned in discomfort. It really had been too long since she felt a man’s hands on her body. She pushed the thought out of her mind. She didn’t need a man, she reminded herself. What she needed was to focus on her dreams, and that was here and now.
She got out of the car and hefted her big suitcase with all her supplies out of her trunk and half pulled, half dragged it through the snow to the front door of the chalet. She grabbed the big iron handle on the large wooden door and pulled. It didn’t budge.
“Oh, come on.” She pulled her jacket closer. It was a warm jacket and did the job just fine back in San Francisco, but here, which apparently was part of the arctic rim, it didn’t hold up well. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from pounding on the door and counted to ten. Surely the other registrants would be there soon. She looked around the parking lot. There were only two cars. Did she make a mistake about the time?
She was about to dig into her purse to double-check the times when the door opened and Mr. Gorgeous from the bar stood before her. Did his eyes have that gooey melting chocolate look yesterday? Or was it the light refracting off the snow that made them look that way? She was so mesmerized she forgot to speak.
“Welcome to Snowy Mountain.”
“I thought you weren’t a morning person?”
“Some mornings can’t be helped.” He smiled and held the door open for her.
“Thank you,” she murmured and quickly stepped through the door, yanking her bag over the threshold. “I worried when I saw I was the only one here.”
“A lot of the participants were at the bar until late last night. Registration and setup will go on until eleven with the first panelists not speaking until right before lunch. It went out in an email.”
“Oh.” How did she not know that? Darn email. She needed to clean out her spam. Before she made it all the way inside, a large dog burst through the door behind her, bumping into her and pushing her forward. She cried out and flew into him. He grabbed her with both hands, crushing her coffee cup between them and sending her coffee flying.
“I am so sorry,” she gasped, horrified as he brushed his hands down his coffee-stained flannel shirt.
Just then a gaggle of women walked through the door, laughing and smiling and looking very put together. “Hi, Beau,” they sang in a chorus and kept walking forward with raised eyebrows and laughter in their eyes as she stood in a puddle of coffee.
The man in front of her raised his hand in greeting, then greeted the dog with both hands and a smile that stole her breath. “I’ll go get a mop,” he said.
“Sorry,” she squeaked again. She looked at the giant dog who followed obediently after the man—Beau. Apparently, Beau was very popular with the ladies. And dogs. She could see why. She grabbed her bag and pulled it deeper into the room while searching for the ladies’ room. She had to clean the coffee off her blouse before it stained, or she’d have to drive all the way back down the hill to the hotel and change. Note to self, she thought as she entered the restroom, bring an extra shirt tomorrow.
Two women burst into the bathroom as she rubbed a wet paper towel over her shirt, trying desperately to get the stain out. Phoebe recognized the redhead immediately, Candy Stevens. But Candy hadn’t recognized her yesterday in the hotel’s lobby. Phoebe racked her brain trying to think of a casual way to reintroduce herself when Candy came out of the stall and started washing her hands. She eyed the stain on Phoebe’s shirt and smirked.
“Coffee disaster,” Phoebe offered.
Candy said nothing.
Just as Phoebe was about to open her mouth and reintroduce herself, Candy’s friend came out of the stall and joined them at the counter.
“Did you know Beau would be here at the conference?” Candy asked her friend. “I tell you what, after last year’s tryst, I’m making it my mission to get that man into my bed this weekend.”
Her friend ran her fingers through her overly processed hair and laughed. “You and everyone else. Good luck with that.”
“Oh, after the night we spent together last year, I won’t need luck.” Candy applied deep-red lipstick to her already stained lips.
“I wonder what he’s doing here,” her friend said, fluffing her hair. “I thought he was a bartender.”
“Making extra money. I’d imagine he doesn’t make much as a bartender in a one-horse town. He probably takes extra jobs wherever he can find them. That place was empty last night until we showed up. We need to make sure everyone goes there tonight. Bring him more business than he can handle. Make sure he’s very appreciative,” Candy said as she returned her lipstick back in her bag.
Phoebe took in the predatory look in Candy’s eyes and almost felt sorry for the man. Not her business, she reminded herself.
“Hi,” Phoebe blurted, finally getting up the nerve to speak. “I’m Phoebe Lawson from San Francisco—”
“Bye,” they both said in unison, then blazed out the door before she could finish leaving a heady scent of perfume in their wake.
Phoebe sighed. That didn’t go well. She continued to rub vigorously at the coffee stain on her white blouse. It wasn’t coming out and now she could see her bra through the wet fabric. Her day wasn’t getting off to a very good start. She stared at the blue ribbon tied around the strap of her purse. It was her good luck charm and evidence that she was good at this. This was her dream, and she would not let a little spilled coffee spoil her day.
She pulled a red silk scarf out of her bag and wrapped it strategically around her neck, then slid on her blazer and tried to pull it over the stain the best she could. There, not too bad. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, then she grabbed her bag and left the bathroom in search of registration.
Chapter Four
“Hi, Beau,” Candy said, standing too close to him, her long glossy-red fingernails moving up his chest.
He took a quick step back, looking for his sister or any way he could escape. “Hi, Candy.”
“I was hoping to get to talk to you last night. I brought all my girlfriends into your place just so I could see you again.” She looked up at him suggestively. “I have very fond memories of our time together last year.”
Not knowing what to say, he leaned down to pet Sally who shouldn’t be in there but was refusing to leave his side. “Sorry, I was busy last night.�
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Candy leaned in close, her fingers plucking an imaginary piece of lint off his shirt. Or maybe it was the coffee stain that had finally dried. “You are the only reason I came back this year. This event is a little ... lacking.”
“Oh?” His sister wouldn’t be happy if she heard that. “Why is that?”
She looked pointedly at the dog and frowned. “Why don’t we have dinner tonight? I can give you my impressions.”
He was fairly certain gossiping about the conference wasn’t what she wanted to do with him. He knew his sister would want Candy’s feedback, but it was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. “I’m sorry, but I have to work at the bar tonight. We have a lot to do to prepare for the Valentine’s party tomorrow evening. Make sure you and your friends are there. It will be a lot of fun.”
“We wouldn’t miss it. But Beau,” she said with a pout. “You work too hard.”
He shrugged. “A man has to do what a man has to do.”
She leaned forward and smiled, her lips coming dangerously close to his as she turned her face and whispered in his ear. “I hope you’ll make time for me. I’ve been thinking about our night last year, a lot. How about we have dinner tonight? And if we don’t make it back in time, I’ll reimburse you for your lost tips at the bar.”
He stiffened. “You want to pay me for my time?”
“Why not? If you lose tips because you had dinner with me, I’d be happy to offset that loss. Call it a financial investment.”
He had to be careful how he handled miss Candy Stevens, queen of the wedding planners. She worked at one of the most successful agencies in San Francisco. If he upset her and she didn’t return, she’d take half the participants with her. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be pimped out to her either. Last year was a drunken mistake and not one he planned on repeating. Ever. Waking up tied to the bedposts with her on top of him still made him break out in a cold sweat. Tying up an ex-Marine wasn’t a smart move.
All Night Long: Kiss The Bride #2 Page 2