A Moment of Bliss (4 page)

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You don't know who my clients are.”

“How do you know? We have resources here too.”

“I'm sure you do, but all the resources in the world wouldn't tell you whose wedding I'm planning.”

“No, but it told us the
kind
of weddings you plan, and they're not the cheap kind.”

A flash of heat, not entirely uncomfortable, shot through her body and fired her mind. Roark wasn't playing around.

“But I'm out on my own now. I could be planning for a conservative affair.”

He grinned. “Or it could be a huge affair and you're playing it cool. I imagine you play it cool very well.”

She concentrated on writing down a figure rather than holding his gaze. She tore the paper from the notepad and pushed it over to Roark.

“What do you think?”

He winced, shaking his head. “I think you're trying to hurt my feelings. And after I gave you cookies and everything. This won't cover us, and even after you comp a few guests, word will get out that we cancelled their plans. You and I both know the price tag on this event has to be worth risking our reputation.”

She kept her expression carefully blank and waited. A man like Roark could probably sniff out weakness or desperation if she so much as flinched.

Roark sat back, studying her. He kept staring, his jaw locked into place, gaze unwavering.

How many people buckled under that stare? He probably used it on his brothers and sister all the time.

Roark grabbed the paper off the table. With her pen, he wrote down another number, but kept it close so she couldn't see. “As much fun as it is having a staring contest with you, I'm willing to write down an amount that is as low as I'll go, still make a profit, and feel good about the risk to our name.”

Her pulse jumped. She loved the rush of the deal, the high of getting what she wanted. If his number was in any way a reasonable amount, she'd win.

Roark put his fingertip on the table again. “
But
, I'm only going to offer this rate if you can offer something to me.”

A foreboding rush hit her like vertigo. She shook it off because surely Roark wasn't like
that
. “Offer what?” Madison managed to ask without clenching her teeth.

“This couple getting married has to be in the public eye, right? I mean, they must be somebody if they need the whole place and the privacy and all that.”

She nodded, torn between relief that he wasn't being the pig her former boss had always been and the niggling feeling she'd given away too much information.

“Then the inn could potentially get some publicity out of this.”

She opened her mouth to argue and he shook his head. “I know it might be a hush-hush thing until the wedding is over. Top secret, all that jazz, I know how it works. After the fact though, I want a few bragging rights. That's all.”

“I'm not going to sell out a client. Ever.” She balled her hand into a fist.

“Who's selling them out? I'm talking about some sentimental, romantic pictures for publicity after the fact. Not paparazzi type crap, but . . . a tasteful editorial on their nuptials.

“I don't want a little article in the local paper either,” he said. “I'm talking a piece in
Southern Living
,
InStyle
. Magazines do wedding issues. Something in color about this great wedding and how it all took place at
the
Honeywilde Mountain Inn and Resort. See how charming? Look how unique.
People
magazine wedding feature. Everybody flock to the inn, right now, and book in for a week.”

She bit at the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. “How do you even know about wedding spreads in
People
magazine?”

“I go to the grocery store. I know things.”

Madison shook her head. “This is their wedding, their celebration of love, and you're trying to use it to your benefit? To make money?”

“You aren't doing the exact same thing?”

She wasn't answering that. They both already knew the answer.

He propped his elbows on the table again and leaned forward, but his shoulders relaxed tenfold. “Look. You and I, we don't bullshit, right? The publicity of a high-profile wedding like this, even if it comes out after the event, is invaluable to you as an event planner. Why not get some value-added for Honeywilde? I'm only looking out for me and mine, same as you.”

He was right. She'd be the total opposite of mum about this wedding once it was over. It'd be the first thing listed in her portfolio and the bomb she'd drop when trying to attract new clients.

“You're a tactical businessman, I'll give you that.” She'd be lying if she said she didn't admire it. And find it extremely hot.

“I'm not
that
tactical.” He shook his head and gave her that same guilty grin like when he'd been caught eating cookies.

The laughter that catapulted out of Madison shocked even her. She couldn't help it. A giddy high from working this deal took over, and she was riding it.

“You know you won't get any other inns on such short notice or at an insider price,” he added.

“Oh, I'm an insider now?” She looked at the number again and then at him.

“If you get us a spot in
Southern Living
, you're a VIP for life. All I want are a few pictures.”

“You know I can't guarantee that now. I have to talk to my client.”

“I know. But the wedding is three whole weeks away. Influence. I know you have it.”

She shook her head, trying to think. Whitney and Jack would be easy. All they cared about was getting the place. If it involved a few extra photographers and a quote, they'd jump on it.

The turnkey was their manager. He'd been a sour pill about the whole wedding from the get-go. Anything that wasn't his idea was a piss-poor one.

Madison straightened. That was it. She'd have to make him think the whole publicity thing was his idea.

She broke off a bite of her cookie and popped it in her mouth. “I may be able to work with you on this deal you've laid out,
if
their manager is in agreement.”

“Manager?”

“He's a piece of work, but any publicity has to be approved by him. You'll have to charm him. I'll have to charm him. We'll all have to be a big ball of charming, but a lower price tag is a good place to start.”

“I believe you're trying to manage me.” Roark smiled.

“You're the one who threw out this rate along with wanting my client's participation. For that, we need to get their manager on board and that means knocking a grand off this price. And, for the week of the wedding, I'll be running the inn right alongside you. Will that be an issue?”

Roark looked down at the number and back up. “A grand less than this and you'll get us the promo?”

“Regional, at least.
Southern Living
,
Southern Style
. Maybe even
People
.”

He sucked his full bottom lip between his teeth before giving her a firm nod. “If you get us in a nationwide magazine, you can have us at that price and run whatever you want. Now can you tell me who's getting married?”

“After we sign.”

He glanced at his watch. “I can draw up the paperwork within the hour, but you'll want to review it before signing.”

“Working late isn't a problem. I'm staying over. My bags are in the car. I only have three weeks to plan a wedding, after all.”

To his credit, Roark's only show of shock was a quick pop of his eyebrows. Then he smiled. He pushed away from the table and stood. “Madison Kline, you have yourself a deal.” He stuck out his hand to shake on it.

“And a wedding to plan.” She stood as well, and slid her hand into his.

A shiver of excitement made her skin tingle, her blood sing. She told herself it was merely the thrill of closing this deal. It had nothing to do with Roark, the fire in his eyes or his warm hand wrapped around hers.

“A
re you going to tell us who's getting married here, or do we have to guess?” Devlin propped an elbow on the arm of the sofa so he could hold his head up. Eyes closed, he lifted a coffee mug to his lips.

Roark held back the smart-ass answer itching to break free. The day was too new to start sniping at one another. Last night included about two hours of paperwork and signing contracts, and finally getting Madison checked in.

Settling into one of the chairs by the great room's fireplace, he decided he'd rather ease into the day gently than dive in headfirst by taking on Dev. He took a long sip of his black coffee before he answered. “The lead singer and lead guitarist of the band Red Left Hand will be having their wedding at Honeywilde.”

“Oh yeah? I've heard of them.” Dev nodded.

Sophie slapped her hands together with way too much energy for seven in the morning. “You're lying!”

Beau woofed his accusation from a pile on the floor.

“I am not lying.”

Dev barely tilted his chin in her direction, creaking one eye open. “How do you know them? That's not even your kind of music.”

“Are you kidding? Everyone knows them.”

Roark had heard of them too, he'd been proud to say. They were a sort of alt rock, indie group out of Georgia, who'd hit it big because one of their songs got picked up for a movie soundtrack. “The even bigger news is, we're going to get publicity from it, after the fact. I'm hoping something like
People
. Honeywilde is going to get some serious promotion.”

Sophie bounced up and down on her end of the sofa, taking little note of what he'd said. “Their song was everywhere this summer. I think they're on tour right now. I didn't even know those two were dating.”

“Most people don't know, and everything is hush-hush, for now. We can't go blabbing to anyone about it. It's on a need-to-know basis until it's all over.”

Sophie's smile went from ear to ear. “I can't believe Jack Winter, lead guitarist of RLH, is going to be staying
here
.”

Dev leaned down the couch toward her. “To get married.”

“I know.” She smacked his arm with the back of her hand. “But he's still hot. I love the lead singer, Whitney, too. She's so cute. I can't believe they're getting married. And they're doing it here.”

“It's way too early in the morning for your level of enthusiasm.” His brother turned into his arm to yawn.

“But this is so exciting!” She bounced again.

Roark appreciated Sophie's enthusiasm, always, but he believed in celebrating
after
they'd executed everything perfectly. “It won't be exciting until we pull it off, it's a huge success, and we can get our name out there.”

Sophie leveled a look at him. “It's exciting now and the excitement only grows from here.”

“All that we have to get done grows from here. We don't have a lot of time and a lot of the details will be on you.”

Sophie waved off the pressure, like she always did. “I know Trev isn't here, but I'll get someone else on my team to step up. It's fine.”

“Don't talk to me about Trevor.”

“Of course. I wouldn't dare.” She patted his arm.

His little sister helped keep the place running and, equally important, kept the Bradley brothers from killing one another. She wasn't only operations manager; she handled the overflow from Roark's mile-long to-do lists. She deserved help. She deserved a brother here helping them, like he'd promised.

Devlin sniffed, making sure to give Roark his most exasperated look. “This is good news, Roark. Don't be a buzzkill.”

A ripple of warmth rolled down Roark's neck. If he were a dog, his hackles would be on their way up. “You were
just
yawning over this entire conversation. You don't give a rip about the wedding; you just like taking sides against me.”

“I'm taking sides against you because you've got a giant stick up your ass.”

“Boys.” Sophie glared at them.

Roark saved his scowl for Dev. “This buzzkill closed a huge deal for us last night.”

Sophie leaned over and gripped Roark's hand. “Exactly. So you can be a little happy about that success. You're not going to jinx it. Enjoy it. We can start the worrying later.”

Maybe she had a point. “You're right. Yay.” Roark put one hand in the air and wiggled his fingers in imitation of her.

“That's more like it.”

“Now, we've got to come up with a game plan.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled to his notes.

Devlin groaned and slumped as Sophie whined, “Not the phone. Let the coffee kick in first. We don't have to start planning now.”

“I'd like to have some ideas ready before Madison comes down.”

Sophie held both hands up, a look on her face as though Roark had said their rock-star bride and groom were here now. “Wait. Comes
down
? Did she stay here last night?”

“She checked in because it's time to start planning. The wedding is in three weeks.”

“
Three weeks?
” Sophie's voice went up an octave.

“A little less than three, technically. I was getting to that part next. We're under a time crunch. That's why we need a game plan now.”

“That's insane. It's impossible. You're both
insane
.”

Dev leaned toward her again. “You get to meet Jack Winter,” he whispered.

Sophie grinned. “I mean, I'm in. But it's still insane.”

Dev propped his feet up on the bottom rung of the coffee table and leaned back. “You're all certifiable, but that isn't news. I'm on board.”

Good. They were all on board, and enthusiastic in their own way, but where was Madison? If she wanted to take the lead on logistics, then they needed to start immediately. Early mornings were the time for Bradley meetings, mainly because once guests got up and the restaurant opened, they'd have no time to meet.

Roark was about to ring the cell phone number Madison gave him last night when Sophie popped up from her seat.

He turned to find Madison standing behind him.

She looked at each of them, her gaze hanging on his before it caught the coffee trolley against the wall.

Roark rose to his feet as well. “Madison. Good morning. You've already met Devlin and this is my sister, Sophie.”

The greetings and handshakes were made when Sophie blurted out, “
How
do you look like a crisp million bucks this early?”

“Soph,” he muttered, but she was right. Madison looked as good as she had the day before, maybe even better. More casual today, she wore beige slacks and a black blouse. Her hair was smoothed back into a clip, drawing attention to her high cheekbones and wry mouth.

As if more of his attention needed to be drawn.

Sophie got up to refill her coffee. “What time did you get up to look so put together?”

Roark cut his eyes at his sister, but she wasn't paying him a bit of attention.

“I wake up at six or so every day, but I'm a morning person.”

“I'm a morning person too,” Sophie argued, “and all I've managed to do is brush my teeth and put my hair in a bun.”

Madison smiled, that little curl of her lips, before she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat in the chair next to Roark's. “But it seems I'm the one late to the meeting.”

She crossed her legs toward him, watching him as she sipped her coffee. “No cookie cologne today?”

“Not today.” He grinned.

“Sorry I'm late.”

“I forgot to mention that if we meet, we meet in the morning.”

“Yes. Welcome to the obnoxiously early Bradley-family meetings.” Dev spread his arm out wide.

Roark bit back a retort. “We like to meet before the majority of the guests are up and about. Since we're a vacation resort, that's usually not until eight or later. A few hikers might be up earlier, but that's rare.”

“Good to know.” Madison tapped her foot in the air, the gold medallion on her black flats shining, her legs long enough that her calf came half an inch from brushing his with every tap. Mesmerizing.

“And who is this?” she asked, just as Beau rose from his napping spot by the fireplace to greet her.

“This is Beau,” he answered. “Currently the family dog.”

“You're pet friendly? That's a nice perk for your guests.”

Satisfied with her scratch behind his ears, Beau flopped back down in his usual spot.

“He's not a fan of Roark's morning meetings either,” Dev added, grinning at him.

Good thing he loved his younger brother. That was the only thing that kept him from throttling Dev on a daily basis.

Roark turned to Madison. “I've told Sophie and Dev that the wedding is in just under three weeks. I thought we could tell you what people have done for events here in the past, things that did and didn't work.”

Sophie smacked the couch cushion between her and Dev. “You mean like that time the reunion party wanted the buffet line outside?”

Dev chuckled. “And later, when they were inside dancing, a couple of raccoons figured they were invited and tried to nab some appetizers to go?”

They both laughed, but Roark never had found it funny. That guest had raised holy hell about the vermin problem, when Roark had specifically told her that leaving the buffet up until late at night was a bad idea. He'd had to refund part of their deposit to keep the peace.

“Oh, come on, Roark. It's funny.” Dev raised his mug in salute. “Those were the happiest raccoons you'd ever seen.”

Sophie nodded. “They looked like little burglars who'd hit the jackpot. Black masks and all.”

Madison shook her head, her chin dipped to hide her grin. “There will be no uninvited guests at this event. Two-legged, four-legged, or otherwise.”

“You think that'll be an issue?” Roark asked her.

She turned to him. “It might. The bride and groom have hit it big this year. When that happens, you get paparazzi, gossip magazines. We're keeping their wedding top secret until it's over, but there could be leaks. We'll want to get some local security at the inn's driveway and entrance.”

Roark added that to the list on his phone. “I know of some cops who do security when off duty. They won't ask who and why, and they understand discretion. I'm happy to contact them and keep the name confidential.”

“That'd be nice. Thank you.” Madison sipped her coffee, looking at him over the rim again. It might be indecently early in the day for some people, but Madison's gaze was alert, her eyes a sharp green, honed right in on him.

“You're welcome,” he said, immediately taking a sip of his coffee too.

In his peripheral vision, Devlin and Sophie looked at each other.

“Roark already told you who will be getting married here?” Madison asked them.

Both straightened up like a teacher had suddenly called on them.

“He did. I'm a big fan of theirs actually, but I can keep that to myself,” Sophie said.

Madison waved her hand. “It's okay to let them know you're a fan, but we'll keep it reserved and professional beyond that. The bride and groom, the band, and a small wedding party will arrive the Thursday before.”

Sophie beamed at the prospect.

Madison turned to Roark. “What about you? Are you a fan?”

Devlin snorted. “Ha! Roark only listens to NPR and nineties rock. He wouldn't know modern music if it bit him.”

“As a matter of fact, I have heard of them.”

“Only because Sophie likes them.”

Roark ignored his brother and focused on Madison. “I wouldn't say I'm a fan, but I do know who they are.”

She shrugged and set her coffee mug down on the arm of the chair. She wrapped her long fingers around the mug. Her nails were clean and short, with only the gloss of clear polish, and she wore no rings. Madison kept things simple and classic, nothing to draw much attention, but Roark noticed anyway. He'd touched those hands, a couple of times, and knew their soft strength. He tried not to wonder about them beyond a handshake.

“I like their music, but I wouldn't say I'm a big fan of theirs either,” she said. “It's just as well. That way we don't have any distractions from planning.”

No distractions. Right. “So, security for the weekend of the event. What else can we help with up front?”

Madison wiggled her foot again. “Off the top of my head? Things I need to organize ASAP include a florist and a photographer. I have a photographer who can drive in for the event, so let's pray he's available. Jack said they have the music covered because two-thirds of the guests are musicians. That covers the most urgent items on the list. For everything else, I'll need my portfolio, laptop, and something in my stomach.”

He wanted to kick himself. He was acting like the mule-headed taskmaster his family accused him of being. Madison was only halfway into her coffee, it wasn't even 8:00 a.m., and here he was, already bombarding her with business.

Roark shook off his faux pas. “Of course. Work can wait until after breakfast.”

“The restaurant serves until ten,” Sophie suggested. “You guys could eat in there and go over anything else. I have no doubt Roark will keep us informed of our to-dos.”

He waited for Madison's answer. She looked at him, indecision shifting through her gaze until finally, “Breakfast sounds good. I need to grab my laptop and portfolio from upstairs.”