Her dad chuckled. "Love wasn't free in the seventies, Dale. It didn't even come cheap. Don't let anyone tell you different."
"I didn't realize they still had communes in the seventies. Wasn't that a sixties thing?"
"Took a while to perfect the community lifestyle. We caught it when it was good."
Laura got to her feet to help her mom clear the table.
"My parents abandoned conventional society to embrace a natural setting more conducive to their art."
"But Cherish changed all that." Handing over his plate, her dad clearly enjoyed a chance to tell his story to a new audience. "She was around five and as smart as a whip. We schooled the kids ourselves in the commune, and one day we were having a discussion about disease and death. It was heavy stuff for the younger ones, but we didn't want to shield our kids from the world and wanted them to understand the facts from us rather than a biased media."
Her mom reappeared and slipped back onto the bench to continue. "One of the children got spooked, and Cherish stood up in the middle of the lesson to reassure him he had nothing to worry about. She told him that we lived in our own world and all the bad stuff that happened out in the 'other' world wouldn't happen to us."
"Out of the mouths of babes…" Her dad picked up the story. "Suzanne and I took a hard look at Cherish, like that 'other' world might see her. She was the prettiest thing, Dale."
"She looked like an urchin." Her mom scowled. "Her hair was tangled halfway down her back and her bare feet were filthy from running around with the boys. We'd been reared in that 'other' world and had chosen our lifestyle, but Cherish hadn't. We decided we should provide her with some balance…"
"And offer her some varied perspectives and different experiences, so she could formulate her own opinions."
"We succeeded, and then some."
Laura couldn't help smiling as Dale's gaze shifted between her parents as though he was watching a table tennis match.
"So how did you handle the transition?" Dale asked, finally turning his gaze to her.
"I endured. And grew up to be a perfectly normal person in spite of my unusual early childhood."
"I don't know about that, Cherish." Dale raised his glass of sun-brewed herbal tea in salute. "I've never thought of you as normal. Isn't that the reason Tyler's filming a documentary?"
"What documentary?" her mom asked.
"It's nothing, really," Laura said "Just an industry documentary about the grand opening."
"It is something," Dale corrected. "Laura is being hailed as a visionary in the hospitality industry."
"A visionary?" Her dad blew her a kiss across the table. "You always do me proud."
Her mom didn't look quite of the same mind. "Is that why you invited Cecilia to that party tonight?"
She shrugged. "The opening reception was just a good opportunity to let her slip in to see the Mireille Marceaux she so generously lent me. It has been excellent promotion for the inn."
"She tried to coerce me into going as her date, you know. She hates to attend these sorts of functions alone."
"I told her to bring someone," she said in a would-be-casual voice. She'd never thought for a second her mother would actually consider the invitation. "I want her to enjoy herself. So are you going to come?"
Laura held her breath.
"As of yesterday morning, no. But if this is such a big deal, Cherish, maybe I should go. I know Cecilia would appreciate a chauffeur. She isn't as comfortable on the road as she used to be. She won't even take the car out when there's snow."
"Not necessary, Mom. I'll send someone to pick her up."
While Laura appreciated the support, she knew the last thing her mom wanted was to attend a formal banquet tonight. And the last thing Laura wanted was her mom and Miranda and Tori together in the same ballroom.
Of course, her mom dismissed her. "What do you think, Russ? Should I go?"
"Did I mention that Miranda and her husband are the Hottest Honeymoon Couple?"
"No, you didn't." Her mom's gaze narrowed. "I read it in the paper."
"Oh, well, her sister is reporting on the event."
"I knew that from the paper, too." Her mom's gaze narrowed more, and Laura knew it didn't matter what she said, her mom would stubbornly do what she thought best, even if it meant dragging out one of her beautiful party gowns entombed in the back of her closet.
"Laura gets so busy working these events that I wind up fending for myself a lot, Suzanne," Dale said. "I'd enjoy a chance to hang with you and your friend. We'll enjoy the banquet and take some of the pressure off Laura."
Her mom smiled appreciatively.
Her dad inclined his head in approval.
And Laura…well, she hadn't shared some of the more interesting parts of her family history, so she had no one but herself to blame that Dale didn't have a clue why her mom attending this function would be such a disaster.
Almost as big a disaster as how she melted inside at the way Dale kept stepping in to make things better.
Dale waited until Laura disconnected the call and replaced the cell phone in her purse before asking, "Will there be any problem accommodating your mom at the rehearsal dinner tonight?"
"No."
"Then do you want to tell me why you're so stressed out about her coming?" he asked while driving toward Niagara Falls. "The whole point of getting you away from the inn was to make you feel better. I don't think I accomplished mission objective."
"Oh, Dale. It's not your fault. I appreciate your offer to sit with Mom and Ms. Cecilia. That'll help a lot."
"No problem. But I want to know what's bugging you."
He could only push so far. Laura would either open up or not. He found it hard to believe that Russ Granger and his art could have driven a wedge this size in such a powerful family, but after meeting her parents, he thought he understood why Laura hadn't told him all the details about her relationship with the senator. She tried to protect her parents, which might explain why she'd warned him about how unusual they were.
Dale thought he'd passed that test, and since he'd gotten an unexpected chance to be supportive again, he would have chalked the afternoon up as a success. But one look at Laura and he wasn't so sure.
She sat staring out the window with her mouth tightly set He wanted her to share her thoughts. Wanted it so much that the want was like an ache. He only had Risqué Receptions and Hottest Honeymoons left to prove he could be more than the bad boy she thought he was. To overcome years of choices and too much gossip that were now biting him in the ass.
Could he prove himself in a the time left?
Damn straight Just the thought of Laura thanking him for the orgasms and kissing him good-bye after the grand opening ended… One thing Dale knew was women, and this woman wanted him. No question.
He wanted a chance to prove he could be the man of Laura's dreams. He didn't know what that entailed exactly, but he wanted a chance to find out. Toward that end he'd spent a good part of his morning—when he wasn't colluding with Annabelle to arrange this visit—talking with his boss.
In Dale's mind he had to have something to prove he was worth a closer look, and with Nick's help, he thought he'd come up with just the thing. He'd planned to spring this on Laura after meeting her folks, but he'd have to rethink that plan. Now obviously wasn't the time for surprises.
But he couldn't share anything with Laura until she opened up about what was bothering her.
"I liked your folks," he said to get her talking again. "I'll agree that they're not your run of the mill parents, but they weren't all that strange. Romantic. Definitely into natural foods. From what you said, I wasn't sure what to expect. They liked me, too."
"You think so?"
"What's not to like?"
She made a sound that might have been a laugh.
"I think I'll invite myself back again next week. Maybe dinner this time. I'd like to meet some of their art residents. Your parents made them sound like family."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"You know what You're so interested in my life outside bed I' in beginning to think you're getting bored with the sex."
"Ouch." Time to put his money where his mouth was. "For the record, I'm interested in more than the sex. I want to know what makes you tick. I figured out today where you inherited all that romantic idealism. I don't think I've ever seen a couple more content to be around each other as your parents. Pretty inspiring stuff."
"You know what makes me tick, Dale. We've been working on a project together for two years. I'm not sure about you, though." She eyed him warily. "My parents inspired you? I thought romantic idealism made bad boys run in the opposite direction."
Love slaps you upside the head when you least expect it.
"Sometimes," he admitted, but like Clyde, he was going to do whatever it took to catch his woman. "But are you so sure bad boys have to stay bad boys forever?"
Something about that made her frown harder, because she swiveled around, hiked her knee up on the seat and faced him. "Are you talking about leopards changing their spots? Why would they want to?"
"The right woman can make the difference," he said simply. "I've seen it happen. My boss's wife started out as just one more beautiful date. Now they're the happiest couple I know. Your parents are that same kind of happy."
"No doubt there," she agreed. "My parents are the happiest couple I know."
"Explain something to me then. How can the daughter of the happiest couple you know establish such strict criteria for the man of her dreams? Did your parents have a laundry list of qualities they looked for before they fell in love?"
It was a leading question, and Dale held his breath, hoping she'd open up and elaborate on what was bothering her. Maybe even share a few of her secrets.
She didn't answer for so long that he thought she wasn't going to. Then she finally said, "No, they didn't, and I'm afraid it created some problems."
"What sort of problems?"
Laura sighed. "Family stuff. My mom came from a wealthy family and they had a lot of expectations for her."
"Miranda and Tori's family."
Laura's eyes widened. "You know?"
He nodded, keeping it casual, not letting her know he was disappointed that she hadn't told him herself. "Troy mentioned it at the bachelor party last night So what happened?"
"My mom wanted to pursue her art and that wasn't really an option for a Prescott."
"Why?"
Laura shrugged. "The senator, I guess. He had certain expectations of his daughters, one followed them, one didn't."
"That simple?"
"I really don't know. I do know it's all old news. This stuff happened long before I was born, so to me it's just the way things have always been. My mom defied her father by living a life he doesn't approve of. She married a man who didn't meet his criteria so he cut her off and never looked back."
"Sounds harsh."
She shrugged. "Being disinherited has a definite down side but I'm sure my mom would do it all over again in a heartbeat She's happy in her marriage and in her work and in her life. She values those things more than anything else."
"What about her daughter?"
"I wouldn't change it, either. But living with my parents has given me a profound respect for love. I choose to exercise a little more control before I'm swept away."
And there it was, the reason Dale had been looking for.
Now he had something to work with because he knew what Laura hadn't admitted yet—she'd already been swept away.
Chapter Fourteen
Laura returned the telephone receiver to the cradle, amazed how one call could shoot her pulse rate into overdrive. She must have looked as shell-shocked as she felt because Dale emerged from the bedroom, where he'd been dressing for the rehearsal dinner, took one look at her and asked, "Who was that?"
"Miranda. She's invited her parents and wants them added to tonight's guest list."
"You're kidding. Why?"
She shrugged, dearly wishing this was some sort of joke. "I was so surprised, I didn't ask. But I should have. What on earth could have possibly prompted Mr. and Mrs. Ford to show up on my doorstep tonight of all nights?"
Dale's frowned. "What did you tell her?"
"That I'd add them. What else can I do? Miranda's my guest. If she wants her mother here… And I don't want to ruffle Tori's feathers, either. Not when she's handling my press."
Smoothing the front of her navy silk gown, Laura was amazed at how wonderful she'd felt just moments ago when dressing. She'd admired the way the silk flowed into the full sweeping skirt, had decided to wear her hair down to complement the simple princess neckline and please Dale.
Now she felt underdressed and unprepared to deal with the night ahead. Her mom would be in that ballroom tonight Grangers and Fords did not mingle at functions as a rule. "I told them I'd be downstairs to greet them."
"I'll go with you."
Even on the verge of hyperventilation, she couldn't help but notice that Dale hadn't finished dressing. "You're not—"
"Nothing I can't do in the elevator." He tossed his bow tie around his neck, grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and motioned her toward the door. "Let's see what's going on."
As they headed to the elevator, she willed herself not to panic. Dale was with her, and if nothing else, he distracted her with his hurried efforts to dress between floors.
"Do I look all right?" he asked, making a final adjustment to his bow tie.
She smoothed his ruffled hair. "Dashing. As always."
Then the elevator stopped. The doors opened.
She could see Miranda, her husband and parents standing in front of Falling Woman, looking so impeccable in their evening wear they might have stepped off the cover of Fashion Weekly.
Though she'd seen Miranda's parents often at school functions, Laura had never said more than the occasional hello when proximity demanded. Speaking with these people hadn't been part of the equation. They moved in separate circles and though everyone in town knew they were all related, they never acknowledged that connection among themselves. They just didn't.
Up close, Carolyn Prescott Ford was a striking woman, as polished and poised as Laura's own mother was natural and energetic. She'd passed along her flaming red hair to Tori, but Laura had never realized how much this woman looked like her own mother until right now when they stood so close.
Dale slipped his hand around her elbow and led her from the elevator. His touch steadied her, made it so much easier to plaster on a gracious smile.
"Good evening, Miranda and Troy," she said in a voice that epitomized hospitality. "Mr. and Mrs. Ford, it's a pleasure. This is the Wedding Wing's architect, Dale Emerson."
The introductions bought her a respite, and Laura had a chance to calm her breathing and decide how best to assume control. From the squared shoulders and forced smiles, she knew everyone had geared up for an awkward situation because no matter how they came at it, this situation was awkward.
But making guests feel welcome happened to be Laura's specialty. If she could sell her guests on romance and make Falling Inn Bed feel like a home away from home, she could get these uptight socialites to blend in. Estranged family or not.
"How wonderful that you were able to join Miranda and Troy tonight," she said. "I see Miranda has been showing you our good luck charm. We were so fortunate to acquire Falling Woman for our grand opening. She's been very well received."
"As I mentioned to you, Laura's mother helped arrange the loan from Westfalls," Miranda said to her mother who only inclined her head.
"In fact, my mom and Ms. Cecilia will be at the banquet tonight to enjoy their contribution." There, it was out on the table. Forewarned was forearmed. Laura would never send her guests into a loaded situation intentionally.
"Victoria mentioned that," Mrs. Ford said.
Laura couldn't help but wonder how that information had
gotten out when she'd only called to add her mom to the list on the ride back into town.
Had Tori been snooping in places she shouldn't snoop?
Laura couldn't think of any other way she could have known. Even more worrisome was the thought that someone on the inn's staff was responsible for the leak.
Dale glanced down at her and the frown in his eyes made her suspect he was mulling over similar questions.
"We have an exciting night planned," Laura said, slipping her arm through his, a silent gesture to get this group moving toward the ballroom. "This is one of our more conventional functions." She'd hope they didn't look too closely at Bruno's menu. "It'll be a night of dinner and dancing and making friends. I'm sure you'll feel welcome. I just need to make an adjustment to the seating arrangements."
"It's kind of you to take the trouble, young lady." Mr. Ford smiled and seemed to genuinely appreciate the effort.
"No trouble at all." She swept an arm toward the ballroom. "If you'll join me, I'll see you to your table."
And seat these people far across the room from her mom.
There was no small talk as they entered the ballroom, just the sudden silence of people who didn't know what to say to each other. Total strangers would have had an easier time of it than blood relations with so much history between them, which Laura decided simply went to prove that DNA didn't count for much.
But she'd have never felt such a surge of pride walking into the ballroom with strangers. This feeling came from knowing that her guests peered around the room, taking in every detail and judging her by what they saw.
Laura might have been an excommunicated member of this family but that didn't mean she couldn't host a bash as well as any of them. And tonight, she hosted a fantasy.
The grand ballroom had been arranged to perfection. Colorful summer blooms adorned linen-draped tables. Crystal glassware sparkled beneath the glittering overhead chandeliers, and the band played mood music at the volume perfect to fill the vast room, yet not hinder guests from conversation.
Delia and Jackson had been seated at the head table with both sets of parents and bridesmaids and groomsmen nearby. Other guests meandered in, directed to their seats by uniformed staff.
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