Page 1 of Loving the CEO

Chapter One

Leo

"Mr. Whitley, your room is ready," the receptionist said, looking up at with me with a smile.

"Perfect. Is the wedding party already here?"

"Yes. Are you from the groom’s or the bride's side?"

"The bride.” Tory Sanders had been my best friend forever.

"Welcome to New Orleans. Do you need information about the city?"

"No, I'm only here for the wedding. Do you know if the bride and groom will arrive before the rehearsal?" Tory had sent me the schedule a few weeks ago, but it got lost in my email. That was my excuse, and I was sticking to it.

"They’re spending the night here. They checked in a few hours ago, and I'm fairly certain they’re in the ballroom."

"Excellent. Please have someone take my luggage upstairs, and I'll go find them."

"Certainly. And if there’s anything you need, sir, don't hesitate to call the reception desk. The ballroom is that way." She pointed to the left of the lobby.

"Thank you."

“Do you need someone to help you find it?"

"I'm good."

I was looking forward to seeing Tory. Even though we'd been best friends in college, we'd slowly drifted apart over the last few years. Work got in the way for both of us, and living in different cities didn't help either. Boston was my hometown, and Tory lived in New Orleans.

I followed the signs inscribed with Tory’s and Walter's names pointing toward the ballroom. I'd met the guy twice over the past few years and didn’t like him much, but I wasn’t the one marrying him. All that mattered was that Tory was happy. The problem was, no one was good enough for my friend.

In the corridor leading to the ballroom, I heard soft voices. I recognized Tory's before she came into view. She was chatting with another woman and her fiancé, gesticulating widely. She always talked with her hands. It was one of the things that caught my attention on orientation day at Boston College—along with her stunning figure, but that was beside the point. She was tall, with an athletic but curvy body. Her blonde hair used to be darker, but now it was very light. It suited her, though.

I stayed put, waiting for them to finish their conversation. To give myself something to do, I called my gran to let her know I'd arrived. My grandparents, Jeannie and Abe Whitley, were some of my favorite people in the world. They were both in their nineties but sharp as ever.

I stepped inside a small alcove as Gran answered.

"Darling, hi. How’s Tory?"

"I haven't talked to her yet. She's with her wedding planner or something."

"Do send her our love, will you? And that I wish her all the happiness in the world."

"Will do, Gran."

"When are you coming back exactly?"

"Sunday evening. Is there a family dinner?"

“No, not this week.”

Gran liked to gather the family from time to time. Since I had seven brothers and six of them had better halves, that was always quite an endeavor and required a bit of planning.

"You want me to bring you something from New Orleans?" I asked.

"You are always so considerate. Just between us, I'd say you’re my most considerate grandson."

I proudly accepted that title. With so many of us Whitley brothers, it was hard to stand out.

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