Page 4 of 4 Weddings and a Feud

“You’re supposed to be drawing in clients for next year’s weddings.”

Fire sparked in her usually placid gaze. “My immediate concern is tonight’s reception. If that goes poorly, no one will hire us for a wedding next year.”

“You should have everything in hand for tonight. You’ve got to be more strategic.”

She squared her jaw. “Strategy is your job. Mine is ensuring every event goes flawlessly and reflects well on La Villa.”

“Strategy is everyone’s job.” How could she not see it? The only way he’d gotten himself and his mother out of the poverty his father had landed them in was to look years into the future, to set seemingly impossible goals, and to work his ass off to achieve them. Now thousands of people depended on his success. Strategic thinking was why he was standing in a hotel he owned in a ten thousand–dollar suit.

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

“I’ll show you how simple it is.” He turned to face the bustling aisle and cracked the knuckles on his right hand. There. A meandering mother-daughter pair. When he grinned, the mother’s steps faltered. It was almost too easy.

“Good morning.” He reached out his hand, and the white woman took it, just like he knew she would. She stepped onto the carpet, tugging her daughter along. “Who’s getting married?” He glanced between them like he couldn’t tell. It was a rare day when someone surprised him.

“My daughter, June. I’m Valerie.” She didn’t release his hand. That was fine. Alex continued to pump it slowly.

“Your daughter? I was sure you were sisters.” Evie shifted, and he could sense her eye-roll.

Valerie tittered. “I’ve been married for twenty-five years. Everything is so different these days, and I’m a little overwhelmed. The last wedding we went to, there wasn’t even a formal invitation. We got invited on Facebook.”

“Ah, no.” Alex clicked his tongue sympathetically. “Here at La Villa, we value tradition.” Actually, he valued whatever would make him a sale, and today, that would be embossed, hand-addressed invitations. “Our in-house wedding planner, Evie, will help make June’s special day truly unforgettable.” When he turned the full force of his smile on the bride-to-be, her gaze went glassy. He had them.

“Why don’t you start by telling Evie what you have in mind? Then she can tell you how La Villa can make your wedding dreams come true.” He shot his wedding planner a meaningful stare, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. If she couldn’t close the sale he’d served up to her on a platter, he’d cut her loose. He couldn’t afford dead weight in his organization.

With a dip of his chin, he stepped away from the women and almost bumped into the muscled form of someone he knew. Rafe Forza, towed by a suited man and woman he didn’t know. Rafe was almost unrecognizable with his hair gelled into place and wearing khakis and a logo golf shirt instead of his usual mechanic’s coveralls. His eyes were wild like he didn’t like where this situation was headed. But Alex still remembered the sickening snap of his nose when Rafe’s fist connected with it almost twenty years ago. He smirked and let them pass unmolested.

If Rafe was here, that meant… Alex scanned the room. Yes, there it was. The Forzas’ elegant black booth with the red scriptForza Elite Motorson the sign above it. But it was missing the person who held the family business together. Mary.

Alex widened his search and found her in the next booth over, her voluminous dark curls and expressive brown eyes calling to him like a beacon. Or maybe it was her olive skin, which seemed to glow like she’d swallowed the early-summer sun.

The sign over her head read,Forza Events.Events? That was new. Putting on his most careless swagger, he sauntered toward the corner booth and paused a dozen feet away to observe.

Mary stood before a pair of men, her hands doing at least half of the talking. In the air before her, her fingers shaped an imaginary layer cake, possibly with flowers on it. Gears would’ve more fitting for a motor-head like Mary. Back in high school, she’d scoffed when he’d told her he was taking his car—his first one, a BMW, before it was repoed—for an oil change. She had him drive it to their shop and showed him how to do it. They’d put on matching coveralls from the rack, and she’d swiped grease off his cheek with a rag.

He’d laughed, wondering why anyone would worry about the hundred dollars the service would’ve cost at the dealership. What an arrogant prick he’d been. Little did he know how useful the skill would be in the lean years ahead, when he’d changed the oil in his next car, an ancient Ford Escort, more times than he could count.

What was she doing with that second booth? He stepped closer.

ChapterThree

As she talked to the engaged men, a tall figure loomed in her peripheral vision. Mary’s heart thudded in her chest. Not because of Alex’s glossy dark hair and sharp brown eyes or the way he moved like a desert wolf, silent and powerful. It was because she was on his turf.

Back in high school, they were friends. Then they were enemies. Worse than enemies, they were strangers for the four years she was away at college. Then she discovered what her brothers had done. She tried to make up for it with kindness, but he was so closed-off now they’d never regained their old closeness. Now they met occasionally as acquaintances. As colleagues in the Vegas tourism industry. When La Villa needed to arrange transportation for their guests, Forza Elite Motors was the first company they called. Mary tried to return the favor by recommending La Villa when a party asked for a casino recommendation, but she knew her brothers often drove the guests to one of Alex’s competitors.

There was nothing like an Italian-American grudge.

And there was nothing like Alex’s dark gaze that seemed to see right into her soul. Their history, combined with his keen intuition, meant he knew all her hopes and dreams. Why she had a booth in the wedding expo he hosted.

She wished she understood him half as well. Maybe then she’d have known he’d break her trust.

She rubbed the twinge at her breastbone, just under the buttons of her black golf shirt. Why was he even down here? He should be up in his office in the tower, making deals with Japanese billionaires or whatever hotel magnates did. She’d hoped to keep her side hustle on the down-low a little longer, until Cierra’s wedding was over and she could upload the photos to her website portfolio. She prayed every night for one successful event that would give her the credentials she needed to grow a successful business. One that would ease the financial pressures on her family.

Mary had always been the one who had it all together, who helped others. Not the one coated in nervous sweat, offering steep discounts in exchange for a review on The Knot. Never the one who needed help. Especially not in front of Alex Villa.

The shorter fiancé cleared his throat, and that’s when Mary realized she’d been deep in her own head and hadn’t heard what her potential client had asked.

“I’m sorry, it’s so loud in here.” The event was packed, and the brides-to-be filled the room with boisterous chatter. “Could you say that again?”

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