The Reluctant Beauty(29)

He shook his head to clear it.

“Perfect,” his friend said, looking up at the ceiling and saying, “There is a God.” He glanced at Austin. “You up for this, bro?”

It would be a lot of time and work to get the legal stuff untangled, but it would be worth it in the end. Somewhere inside, he felt the old spark. His passion for music, he guessed, had never really died. It just had been buried under a lot of pressure from the other band members and being forced to tour when he really hadn’t wanted to.

His mind blasted with one idea after the other. New updated logo. Fresh new look. Branding. Merchandising. Exclusive deal. King’s Department Store would be the perfect partner.

“I’m in. All in.”

Now how he was going to do it all, he couldn’t be certain.



***



Dressed in another Rico selection, Peg fidgeted with the hem, trying to tug it down again. “I am going to have a word with my former best friend,” she muttered. The long-sleeved, black form-fitting dress clung to her and inched up even higher whenever she moved.

This time he’d given her silver, sparkly sandals with a higher heel.

“Four inches? French fries and fiddlesticks, I can barely stand, never mind walk.”

Clutching her clipboard, Peg stood in the hotel ballroom and double-checked everything. The room looked stunning in red, lights twinkled, photo booth was a hit, karaoke even bigger hit, and the fresh white flower centerpieces with flags in them were a perfect touch on the draped tablecloths. Thank goodness, everything had come together, thanks to the entire King family.

The hotel manager waved from across the room. Shooting him a weak smile, she waved back. The man practically undressed her the rest of the way every time he looked at her.

She snorted. “For crying out loud, he barely had two words to say to me until tonight. Must be the dress.”

“You?” The prim and proper familiar deep male voice came from a few feet away. The maître de with the engineered hairline from the restaurant glared at her.

“What are you doing here?” She gulped and then realized by his attire and the silver tray he held that he was part of the extra staff the hotel manager hired for the event.

“You and Austin Rhoades?” He held a hand to his mouth and giggled. He wagged a finger at her. “Not going to happen. No date for you.”

“You think?” He had to rub it in, didn’t he?

“Buy some…” He waved a hand in the direction of her chest. “You know. It’ll help.” He winked and strolled off, offering a drink from his tray to a soldier and his date. Turning quickly, he motioned his head to the woman. See, he mouthed. Peg noticed the woman’s cups were overflowing, her neckline arrowed down, way down and touched her navel. There was advertising. And then there was advertising.

As he waltzed away, Peg wished he’d trip and fall on his face. No such luck.

The murmur of people in the lobby drifted to her. Blocking out the annoying man, she did a quick assessment of the situation, knowing everything was in place. Peg rushed, as much as she could, on her heels, to the archway to welcome the newcomers.

Spotting Charlie, Marcus, and Griffin and their families, she called out, “Why, if it isn’t Boss 1, Boss 2, and Boss 3!”

The gathering crowd laughed. Thank goodness, the stepmother and the colonel just waved and made their way to a group of soldiers nearby. She still didn’t trust the old battle-ax even if her girls were trying to make nice with her.

“Everything under control, Peg?” Griffin asked, coming to her side.

“All but this dress,” she said, pulling the hem down. “Where’s Rico? I’m about to strangle him with this thing and see how he likes it.”

His chuckle surprised her. The gruff man was improving, slowly but surely. “Well, I’ll be, Boss 3, you laughed. Or is it just the dust trying to come out?”

“Is that supposed to be a joke, Peg?” He frowned.

“You know what, Boss? King’s needs to start selling sense of humors. You need to be the first in line to buy one.”

He scowled. “Not funny, Peg.”

“Yep. That’s what I said, too. You’re not a funny guy, Boss. I’m still working on it, though. Might get somewhere in another decade—maybe.” Peg heard him grunt, and then watched as he walked away to see to his guests.

“Decade?” her mother’s voice came from somewhere to her right and lower.

“Ah, Ma,” she said, defeat in her voice.

Looking down at her mother, dressed in a flowing robin’s egg blue gown and with her blonde hair expertly styled, Peg said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Holy, crap, Ma, you look beautiful. I mean, even more so than usual.” She meant it.