Chapter Four
Smoothing her hands down her gray pencil skirt, Isabella made sure she’d buttoned her matching blazer.
Tablet and pink floral planner in one hand, purse slung over her shoulder, she pushed through the glass revolving door into the ornate entrance lobby of The Waverly Grand Hotel in uptown Charlotte, the venue for her dad’s fundraiser gala.
The click-clack of her heels echoed on the glossy marble tile as she made her way to the concierge desk.
Normally, she’d be organizing trade show exhibitions for AegisShield Defense Solutions, not planning a political campaign event, but her parents had cajoled her into helping, and her boss had been more than happy to give her flexible work hours over the past few months to work on the gala.
After all, her father was a former secretary of defense, and the CEO of AegisShield was both a friend and key figure in the US defense industry.
She waited for the woman in the navy pantsuit to get off the phone before she spoke. “Excuse me, I’m Isabella Strickland, here to see your events manager, Melody Santos.”
The concierge dialed an extension. “Melody? Isabella Strickland is here to see you.” She glanced at Isabella as she hung up the phone. “She’s on her way.”
“Thank you.”
Isabella surveyed her opulent surroundings while she waited. Six white pillars framed the lobby’s center. The chandelier mounted on the high ceiling looked as big as Talia’s Mini Cooper. Strategically placed seating areas flanked by greenery created an ambiance that was both elegant and welcoming.
“Ms. Strickland?”
Isabella turned to see a brunette about her age approach, wearing a similar navy pantsuit as the concierge. The hotel uniform, apparently.
The woman held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all our conversations on the phone and over email. We’ll head to the event space as soon as Mr. Mayhew arrives.”
Mayhew.
A dull roar filled Isabella’s ears. “Excuse me?”
Nope. Couldn’t be.
Melody’s brow furrowed. “The Senator’s chief of staff called this morning to let me know a new director of security had been hired for the event. My understanding was he’d be attending our meeting?”
Thanks for the heads-up, Dad.
“No, yes. Sorry.” She wasn’t about to admit this was news to her.
Pressure built behind her temples. Her parents knew she hated surprises. “Why don’t we go over the vendor list so I can make sure I have everyone’s contact information while we’re waiting for Mr.…Mayhew.”
The last name was a coincidence. It had to be. Because the alternative…
Her teeth caught the inside of her lip and bit down. The spike of pain recentered her. Freeing the abused area, she forced air into her lungs in a slow glide to calm her pulse.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
She and Melody took a seat on one of the nearby couches and were comparing notes when Melody’s head lifted, her gaze roving with barely concealed interest over someone behind Isabella’s shoulder. “Can I help you?”
“Sorry I’m late. Hope you didn’t start the party without me.”
Isabella stiffened.
That voice. Deeper now with age, but with the same hint of playfulness.
Slowly, she pivoted in her seat, heart racing.
So much for hoping for a coincidence.
Now that she wasn’t in fear for her life, she could study Danny more carefully.
He’d filled out since he was nineteen. Nicely. And still handsome. More so, actually, his face honed by a maturity that only made him sexier.
His blond hair was longer than one would expect for a professional, but where it had framed his face in a sexy tousle on the yacht, today he’d tamed it back into a low, short ponytail that only emphasized his sharp jawline and straight nose.
Her gaze lingered on the muscles that filled out the pink dress shirt he wore, and those gray wool trousers did little to disguise his trim waist and muscular thighs.
His blue eyes reminded her of a sunny Carolina day and were crinkled at the corners.
Sun or laugh lines?
Those eyes narrowed on her, a hint of wariness in their depths. “Hello, Bella.”
“Mr. Mayhew? I’m Melody Santos.” The Waverly Grand Hotel’s events manager introduced herself, her gaze darting between Danny and Isabella with open curiosity.
Her introduction gave Isabella the precious seconds she needed to gather her composure. She stood to face her former childhood crush. “You’re the new security director?”
He frowned. “Your father didn’t tell you?”
“Must have slipped his mind.”
Danny grimaced, letting her know he hadn’t missed the sarcasm in her tone.
“Ahem, well, why don’t we take a look at the event space first,” Melody plastered on a bright smile, clearly sensing the tension. “Then we can discuss the other action items.”
“Yes. Let’s.” Isabella threw back her shoulders and followed the woman to the main ballroom, every nerve in her body attuned to the man behind her.
Danny.
When he’d shown up like a superhero and rescued her family from terrorists, she hadn’t been able to do much more than whisper his name before he’d slipped quietly back over the side of the yacht and disappeared.
Funny thing was, in her nightmares since the vacation from hell, Danny always appeared.
Hey, Bella, he’d say.
And she’d ignore the dead man at his feet, feeling oddly safe again.
Which made no sense, because Danny Mayhew clearly still thrived on chaos, and nothing about him was safe.
Look at what he did for a living.
After they stepped off the escalator onto the second floor, he matched his steps to hers.
Time hadn’t dulled her body’s reaction to him.
Her fingers itched to caress the new-to-her planes and angles of his face and tangle in his hair.
Her body felt hypersensitive, as if her skin carried the memory of his touch.
Her lips tingled from his phantom kisses.
Life was so unfair. Why couldn’t he be fat or balding? Why did he still have that California swagger, that panty-dropping smile, that playful sparkle in his eyes?
Oh God, what if he were married? Trying not to be obvious, she snuck a peek at his left hand. No ring. No tan line to hint at a ring.
Not that it meant he wasn’t married or didn’t have a fiancée or a long-time girlfriend.
Get a grip.
Danny’s personal life was irrelevant.
And she’d keep telling herself that until this event was over and he was gone.
Once they arrived at the ballroom, Isabella forced herself to pay attention and take notes on her tablet.
Table layout, stage setup, audio-visual equipment, linen options.
The open lobby at the top of the escalator, next to the main ballroom doors, would serve as the reception and cocktail area.
Melody promised to email the final menu options.
Danny remained silent. Isabella observed him beneath her lashes as he examined the space.
He pointed to the bank of elevators on their left. “Where do those lead to?”
Melody answered. “The parking garage. Most attendees enter the ballroom level directly from the garage or through the front lobby, then via the escalator.”
“I’ll need the layout of every access point, including the ones used by staff that aren’t open to the public. And a list of the names of all employees working the event.” Danny handed Melody a business card. “My email address and cell number.”
“You’ll want to meet with Grant Marks, the hotel’s head of security,” Isabella said before Melody could reply. “I’ve already discussed with him how to manage traffic flow and worker credentials to ensure the safety of our guests.”
Danny’s brows lifted. “You have?”
Something warm unfurled in her chest at the admiration in his eyes when she’d been expecting dismissal.
She ruthlessly shoved it down and lifted her chin, giving him a cool stare. “Of course. I plan events for a living. Security is always a factor I take into consideration.”
She turned to Melody. “I’ve got everything I need for now. I’ll be in touch with our final guest count.”
Melody nodded. “Feel free to stay and have a look around.” She shook their hands and disappeared down the hall.
Isabella fiddled with the hem of her blazer and stared longingly at the elevators as the air between her and Danny grew thick.
He broke the silence first. “There’s a French bakery just up the street. Let’s grab a cup of coffee.”
Her head whipped in his direction. “How do you know about Le Delice Patisserie?”
Did he live in Charlotte, and she was just now finding that out?
Fate wouldn’t be so cruel.
Ha.
Yes, it would.
Danny’s brows lifted. “I always scope out the food scene wherever I go. Food is another form of adventure. Gotta try new things.”
Funny. She’d lived here for years, and the only time she tried new things was when Talia forced her to. “I really don’t have time, maybe—”
“Bella.” Danny’s expression sobered. “We need to talk.”
If he wanted to talk about their past, then no, they didn’t.
“Please?”
She started to come up with another excuse to leave and stopped. It wasn’t as if she could avoid him forever. Like it or not, she had to work with Danny to make sure her father’s re-election gala went off without a hitch.
Also, she had a weakness for Le Delice’s almond croissants.
“I can give you an hour.” She could give him all day, but an hour in Danny’s presence was enough. She’d need the rest of the day to recover.
His hand was already cupping her elbow as he guided her to the escalator, his fingers branding her with a heat that detonated through her with a shudder.
Good Lord—he was barely touching her. She moved her arm so he had to let go.
Talia was right. She needed to date more.
The problem was that the nice, staid bankers and accountants Talia tried to set her up with were…boring.
Which made no sense because stability was good. Vanilla was good. It was what she wanted.
She side-eyed Danny.
Definitely not vanilla.