Her Las Vegas Wedding. Andrea Bolter
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Audrey was not about to have that eyesore muddy the sophistication of a Girard hotel. So she lifted cardboard Shane Murphy at his waist, tucked him under her arm and proceeded to her bungalow. As soon as she swiped her key card and let herself in, she propped Shane in a corner of the room facing the bed.
Dropping her bags, she made a three-hundred-sixty degree turn as she took in the finished renovation of the bungalow. The photo and video tours she’d seen didn’t do it justice. An interior archway divided the suite into two distinct areas. In the sleeping portion, teal and brown bedding appointed the king bed, a palette that evoked the original sixties style. But a flat-screen smart TV mounted on the wall and tech stations on the two lightwood nightstands brought the room straight into the needs of today’s guests. An armchair upholstered in stripes echoed the teal and added in green and cream colors. A reading lamp perched on an end table beside it.
Through the archway, a lightwood desk and chair provided a place to work or eat. Bright abstract paintings adorned the walls. A sitting area with a sleek gray sofa and low coffee table gave way to the sliding-glass door. Each bungalow had a private patio with two forest green lounge chairs shaded by a partial veranda to give protection against the desert sun.
Audrey delighted at the perfection of the remodel. This was what put the Hotel Girard brand on the map. Everything carefully crafted from fine materials and designs perfectly executed.
Except for that stupid cutout of Shane Murphy, of course.
* * *
“There he is.” Daniel nudged Audrey as they sat in a finished section of one of the hotel’s cocktail lounges.
They both stood as Reg Murphy approached. Audrey’s future husband was a slim man who stood ramrod straight. He wore a three-piece pinstriped suit. Audrey couldn’t remember the last time she saw a man wear a vested suit.
She hadn’t had a chance to unpack but had pulled an outfit from her garment bag for the evening. A conservative gray sheath dress and black sandals.
“Nice to see you, Reg.”
“I guess this is finally it,” he said as he extended his right hand as if to shake hers. Then he seemed to change his mind midstream and instead lifted her hand and turned it over to kiss the back of it. His supple palm pressed her fingers against his open lips. The whole maneuver was awkward and a bit moist.
“How was your flight?” Daniel asked as Reg vigorously shook his hand up and down.
“Fine, sir.”
Audrey remembered Reg as being a bit more poised. Perhaps it was wedding jitters that made him appear so nervous. He stared at Daniel slack-jawed like he wanted to say something, but instead pulled a white handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and dabbed his upper lip.
“Are you in Vegas now until the opening?” Audrey asked.
“I may have to fly back to New York. You?”
“Yeah, I’m here. I’ve got our wedding to coordinate.”
“Right.” Reg nodded as if it were just sinking in. He glanced at his phone and read something on the screen that brought a huge smile to his lips. “Please pardon me a moment while I return this message.”
He tapped onto the screen, grinning the entire time.
“Well,” Daniel said using his right hand to pat Audrey’s back and his left to tap Reg’s, “I’ll leave you two to your evening.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
After Daniel walked away, Reg and Audrey each perched on a stool beside the table. One of the four bars on the property, this space was located inside the main lobby and had stylish fun in mind. The decor was done with white barstools upholstered in deep purple velvet set around chrome pedestal tables. Behind the chrome cocktail bar was a giant glass tank filled with undulating purple goo similar to the lava lamps of the 1960s.
Once again, Girard’s interior designers had worked through an idea to perfection. And then capable crews were able to bring the vision to fruition. Audrey could imagine the lounge with chic music playing in the background and filled with trendy patrons choosing drinks from a cocktail menu that offered libations with names like Flip-Out Frappe and Yin-Yang-Yum.
“After all of the talk about us marrying, this has come about rather suddenly, hasn’t it?” Reg asked.
“Is there a problem with that?”
He seemed to be a million miles away. “Not at all.”
“I think the extra push makes sense. Do everything at once. Open the hotel and Shane’s Table. Shane’s cookbook. Our marriage. It’s a cascade of publicity on several levels.”
Audrey knew that the Girard hotels had never really recovered from the events of three years ago. When her mother was dying and her father was unable to concentrate on the business. Audrey had tried as best she could to fill in for him. It was a gift to have the work to focus on since her mother hadn’t wanted her at her bedside.
All of her life, it had been assumed that she’d grow up into the family business. As a teenager, she developed a knack for coming up with advertising ideas and events. The marketing side of the brand was a perfect fit for her after college.
Hotel Girard Incorporated was Audrey’s entire world. Running around the properties as a kid, she had known every secret passageway. Every painting that hung in every guest room. Every item sold in the gift shops. Any happiness she could recollect took place within the borders of the hotels. The staff were loyal to Audrey and she was loyal to them. She’d do anything needed for their good. Even get married.
Besides, she thought Reg was a good match and she had become quite amenable to the marriage idea. He was smart. Nice-looking, too. Maybe a little too much hair product. Those short curls might look better if they weren’t so stiff. He was poised and polite and she didn’t know what the medical condition was that made a person have a sweaty upper lip but, hey, she thought she could overlook that.
And he was, safely, nothing like his brother. That split second ten years ago on St. Thomas flickered in her mind again. A freeze-frame in time that she still secretly compared everything else to.
“Should we go to dinner?” she asked. Reg seemed so uneasy tonight, perhaps a change of atmosphere would help. Devotion to the hotels was one thing but she wasn’t going to go as far as to beg him to wed her if he didn’t want to.
“Shane is cooking for us in the restaurant.” Reg took Audrey by the bony part of her elbow and lead her out of the bar. “We are essentially the first guests at Shane’s Table Las Vegas.”
Along the way, Reg stopped to read and respond to another message on his phone. The same amusement that had come across his face earlier returned while he typed.
But he hesitated when they reached the restaurant’s entrance. “Where is the display that’s supposed to be here?”
“You mean that awful stand-up photo of Shane?”
“Name recognition is what Shane’s Table is all about.”
“I’m well aware of that. But that cardboard cutout was absurd. Brash advertising like that is not how Girard maintains its reputation for taste and understatement.”
Not that a life-size photo of hottie Shane Murphy was hard on the eyes, but it was, nonetheless, inconsistent with the Girard style.
“You personally removed my advertising?”
She’d stood it up in her bungalow for the time being and now didn’t seem the right time to confess that. “Reg, I’m head of public relations. I work alongside a marketing team and together we decide when and how best to...”
“I built Shane’s Table into what it is today.”
Wow, Audrey wasn’t expecting this. She assumed Reg would respect her authority on this topic. He should have at least proposed the display prior