A Case for Love (2 page)

“Strictly off the record.” Alaine picked up a pen and steno pad, but forced herself to put them down again and rotate in her chair so that her back was to the desk.

“We had the chaplain at Beausoleil Pointe Center marry us yesterday afternoon. We surprised our parents.”

All the air in Alaine’s lungs froze solid. Meredith Guidry and Major O’Hara had eloped? “But I thought you were having your cousin Anne plan a big wedding for you. I was hoping to cover it, since Major has become quite the celebrity, what with his cooking segments on my show.”

“We decided we were just too busy to try to plan a big wedding. And we’ve already wasted eight years. Why put it off any longer?”

A flash-fire of jealousy forced the air out of Alaine’s lungs. Meredith had been one of her few friends who was still unmarried—and the only true friend Alaine had had in years. She hated being single; even more than becoming a serious journalist, getting married was the one thing she wanted most in life. Yet at thirty-two years old, she was starting to worry that the chances of either dream coming true were not just slipping, but sprinting, away.

Alaine had to swallow past the huge lump in her throat to make her voice work. “Congratulations, Mere. I’m really happy for you.” She glanced down at the envelope crumpled in her fist. “Oh, I got the passes for the Art without Limits exhibit preview and fund-raiser at the Beausoleil Fine Arts Center, if you’re still interested in going.”

“Of course I am. And since Major’s catering it, I won’t have to feel guilty about going off and leaving him home alone. Thanks again for thinking of me.”

“I don’t know anyone else who likes art, and I hate going to those things by myself.” She twisted the spiral cord around her finger tightly, trying to see if the slight pain would help squeeze out her envy.

“Same here—oh, my other line just lit up. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay. Bye.” Alaine turned around to hang up the receiver, then put her head down on her folded arms atop the desk.
God, why is everyone I know married or engaged? Am I the last old maid left in Bonneterre?

She knew the answer to that, of course. Twenty-four other “eligible bachelorettes” would be at the
Bonneterre Lifestyles
dinner along with her, if they all showed up. And who wouldn’t, when they’d have VIP access to the handsomest, wealthiest, highest-profile single men in town for the evening?

Mother’s constant harping on her to get married—and soon—was starting to make Alaine feel like something was wrong with her for still being single at her age. The facts that Joe and his wife couldn’t have kids and that Tony, at age twenty-six, wasn’t anywhere near ready to settle down put all the pressure of producing grandchildren anytime soon on Alaine. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted kids.

She sat up and tried to run her fingers through her hair—before remembering it was still shellacked with hair spray.

Maybe tonight she’d give those bachelors more than just a professional glance. Maybe it was time to get a little arm candy to show her parents—and anyone else who might be looking—that she was at least trying. And she never knew: Mr. Right could be Bachelor Number One, Two, or Twenty-Five.

Alaine stared into the camera lens as if she were talking directly to a person instead of a machine. “The publicist for
Bonneterre Lifestyles
reported that participation in voting for this year’s Most Eligible Bachelors was up more than 200 percent over last year. And they expect the July issue, which hits newsstands Monday, will be the top-selling edition in the magazine’s thirty-five-year history.”

Much more so than the June issue, on which Alaine’s photo appeared as the number one old maid in town.

“Tonight at ten o’clock, I’ll reveal the winner and give you a preview of the magazine’s cover, which will be announced after the dinner feting the twenty-five nominees. Live from the Plantation House restaurant, this is Alaine Delacroix for Channel Six News.” She stood still, smiling, until receiving an all clear.

Instead of mingling and making small talk with everyone gathered in the exclusive second-floor dining room of the most expensive restaurant in town, Alaine walked around followed by her cameraman and stuck her microphone in people’s faces, asking them silly questions so she could file a story that no one would remember three days from now.

A frisson of excited whispers in the group near the entrance caught her attention. She turned to find the source, and her jaw almost unhinged. In walked one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen—and he looked vaguely familiar. His hair was a cross between brown and auburn, and he looked better in a tuxedo than Fred Astaire ever had. But could he dance like the silver-screen legend?

“That’s Forbes Guidry.”

“I can’t believe he actually came.”

“He’s been on the list for five years in a row.”

“I heard he drives a Jaguar and lives in one of those fancy town houses in Old Towne.”

Alaine focused on the last whispered comment from the women behind her. One of those town houses in Old Towne? Of course! That’s where she recognized him from. They lived in the same community, and she’d seen him out running almost every morning on her way to work.

While she’d toyed with the idea of trying to meet him, she’d never followed through, assuming someone that good-looking must be married. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t connected her eye-candy jogger with the infamous Forbes Guidry. He was what her mother would call a confirmed bachelor—or in other words, a hopeless case other women had long since given up on trying to make settle down.

Which meant he was definitely not the man for her. But to tide her mother over until Mr. Right came along? It was worth a shot.

Alaine turned to motion Nelson over—but he wasn’t behind her. She scanned the room and saw him chatting up the woman who’d been second behind Alaine on the old-maid list. She started toward him, but before she got there, the microphone on the dais at the far end of the room squawked, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, bachelors and bachelorettes, if you would find your seats, dinner service will begin in just a few minutes.”

Alaine had arranged a seat and meal for Nelson ahead of time, so she sent him to go eat and went to find her name on one of the tables.

Paying more attention to the place cards than anything else, she gasped and jumped when she stepped on someone’s foot.

“I beg your...” Though her four-inch heels brought her up to five foot six, the close proximity to the man forced her to crane her neck to see his face—his gorgeous face—and grayish-blue eyes looking into hers with such intensity, her whole head grew hot.

“No apology necessary, Ms. Delacroix. I believe this is your seat.” Forbes Guidry pulled out the chair he stood behind.

“Thank you.” She sat, hoping he would walk away with no further conversation so she could compose herself before she had to speak with him again.

He pulled out the chair to her left and sat in it. “I’m Forbes Guidry.”

“Yes, I know. I mean....” She ripped her gaze away from his, and her eyes fell on the place card. She nodded toward it. One thing she’d learned over the past ten or twelve years: Men as good-looking as this guy had big egos and loved it when women knew who they were before they were introduced. Even if he was wearing the faintest trace of her favorite cologne—which nearly made her eyes cross with giddiness every time she took a breath—she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

Once everyone else settled around the large, round table, they each introduced themselves, coming to Alaine last.

After her turn, one of the bachelors across from her said, “Congratulations on being named Bachelorette of the Year, Alaine.” He followed the statement with a wink.

Forbes Guidry’s brows formed a straight line that hooded his eyes. “How long have you been at Channel Six, Ms. Delacroix?” Though he addressed her, his intimidating expression stayed focused on the other side of the table; and it worked, as the winking bachelor turned to engage the woman on his right in conversation.

Alaine hid her amusement. “I’ve been with WCAN twelve years—two as a college intern and ten full-time. And please, call me Alaine.” She wracked her brain to find a way to bring up the fact they lived in the same complex without coming across like either a stalker or a fangirl.

“You live in one of the older row houses on the south side of the complex, don’t you?” Forbes asked.

“I, uh, yes.” Her surprise must have shown, because Forbes smiled apologetically.

“I usually see you in the mornings when I’m out running. Black Mazda RX-8, right?”

He’d noticed her? She nodded. “Right.”

“Is yours in the row that overlooks the old Moreaux Paper warehouses?”

“Don’t remind me. My house probably declined 10 percent in value as soon as I closed on it a few years ago.” She sighed. “Can you imagine that description in a real-estate ad? ‘Great view of the highway and a bunch of decrepit, abandoned warehouses.’” She leaned to the side to allow the server access to put her salad on the charger in front of her.

“But once that area’s developed, it should increase your property value.” Forbes pushed the lettuce leaves around on his plate, looking under them as if checking to make sure no surprises lurked, waiting to jump out at him.

Alaine took a bite. Not the best raspberry vinaigrette dressing she’d ever had, but it would do. “I was told when I bought it a few years ago that some investment company or another was going to go in and revitalize that area, but nothing’s ever come of it.”

Forbes picked out the three cherry tomato halves and ate them, then put his fork down. “I’ve heard that it’s pretty close to being a done deal.”

“It would be nice to have some retail stores closer than having to drive all the way across town to the mall area. Don’t get me wrong, I love the boutiques and shops on Town Square, but sometimes a girl just needs to shop at a big chain store.”

The handsome lawyer assiduously avoided her gaze. She could almost smell the scoop. “Any word on how soon this deal might be closed?”

The corner of his mouth quirked, and he turned those piercing eyes on her again. “Digging for a story, Ms. Delacroix?”

“Avoiding the question, Mr. Guidry?”

A smile slowly overtook his lips. Alaine almost forgot what they’d been talking about.

“Hey, Guidry, don’t monopolize her attention all night.”

Forbes held her gaze a moment longer before looking away. Alaine blinked and turned toward the man who’d interrupted them.

Forbes slowed his breathing to try to get his heart rate back down to normal. He’d been around his fair share of beautiful women in Forbes slowed his breathing to try to get his heart rate back down to normal. He’d been around his fair share of beautiful women in his life, but never before had one so discombobulated him that he’d almost revealed confidential information without a second thought.

If he’d blabbed to a journalist about his parents’ involvement in the development of the Moreaux Mills area and she’d gone public with it, he would be in all kinds of trouble. If the deal fell through, as it had for the other five or six national and international developers who’d tried to do the same thing over the years, they didn’t want the Boudreaux-Guidry Enterprises name held up for derision and judgment in the media.

They also wanted to keep it quiet to try to eliminate any competitors from coming in and buying adjacent land out from under them.

For the remainder of the meal, he participated in conversations around the table, but observed Alaine Delacroix closely. She seemed unflappable, deflecting with aplomb the puppyish attempts at flirting she received from several of the younger men at the table.

The publicist from the magazine came around shortly after the main course was served—Forbes had ordered the chateaubriand the restaurant was famous for and enjoyed every bite.

“I can see y’all have taken the time to get to know each other.” She gave a salesperson’s fake smile, which faded when she took a second look around the table. Her gaze fell on Forbes and Alaine.

He raised his brows, daring her to comment on the fact that he’d done a little rearranging of the place cards.

She shrugged, but a sly look entered her expression. “Well, if y’all need anything, I’m more than happy to be of assistance.” She moved on to the next table.

Forbes allowed the server to take his empty plate. Alaine had eaten only half her meal but insisted she was finished. Well, she was a little thing, so maybe she didn’t have much room for more food than that.

“Alaine, I believe you know my sister Meredith.” He rested his hands in his lap, trying to set an example for some of their uncouth dinner companions who now leaned their elbows on the table.

“Yes. In fact, I spoke with her earlier today and was shocked to hear she and Major eloped yesterday.”

Forbes tore his attention away from the way a few ringlets of Alaine’s black hair had either escaped or been left loose from the halo of curls atop her head and caressed her long neck. “Meredith told you about her elopement? I thought she was keeping mum about it until she told the family Sunday.”

“I pried it out of her.” Instead of looking guilty, though, her expression was more disgruntled than anything else. “I think it’s wonderful—very romantic. I don’t blame them for not wanting to wait.”

Forbes opened his mouth to speak, but the server interrupted them to deliver their desserts—chocolate-cherry bread pudding. Never having been a fan of bread pudding, as it was one of his mother’s least successful attempts at baking eons ago, Forbes waved his off.

“Is there something else I can bring you, sir?” the server asked.

“Is it possible to get a fruit plate?”

“Yes, sir. We have a berry salad that has strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, and pomegranate seeds with a citrus-mint dressing.”

The idea of combining citrus and mint didn’t appeal. “If I could get it without the dressing, that would be great—maybe with a drizzle of chocolate instead?”

The server nodded. “I’ll let the chef know immediately and should have that to you shortly.”

Forbes nodded his thanks, and as he did so, caught sight of Alaine quickly turning away an amused smile. He leaned toward her. “Yes, I know,” he said in a low voice. “I’m high maintenance.”

She laughed. “Tell me, Forbes, are you accustomed to getting your way like that everywhere you go?”

“Not everywhere, no. But you have to figure that an establishment like this doesn’t garner rave reviews and a James Beard award unless they’re willing to accommodate their customers’ wishes.” He shrugged. “And it never hurts to ask. The worst they can say is no.”

Alaine shook her head, looking at him as if he were some strange science experiment. “I have a feeling that there are very few people in this world who have ever said no to you, Forbes Guidry.”

He could get lost in the dark brown pools of her eyes. “Want to put that to the test?”

“How?”

“By seeing if someone says no to me when I ask them to do something.” He masked his amusement with a serious expression.

Her perfectly arched brows raised. “Okay.”

“Go out with me tomorrow night.”

She blinked a couple of times; then a smile parted her full lips. “That sounded more like a command than a question to me.”

He inclined his head—she had him there. “Alaine Delacroix, will you go to dinner with me tomorrow night?”

“No.” She pressed her lips together; he tried not to stare at her mouth but was having a hard time.

“Now you’re toying with me. You want to say yes, but you said no just to prove a point.” He looked up and leaned away from Alaine when the server arrived with his plate of chocolate-dressed berries.

“No. I actually mean no. No dinner with you tomorrow night.”

He scooted his chair a little closer to hers so he didn’t have to lean so far to hear her hushed voice. “No because you can’t, or no because you don’t want to?”

Alaine’s olive complexion darkened. “No ... because I can’t.” Her shoulders drooped slightly, and she turned narrowed—but amused—eyes on him. “I so want to be able to say no to you. That’s not a fair test.”

“Because you do want to go out with me?” What was he doing? This was headed for disaster. But he just couldn’t help himself. It’d been a long time since he’d fallen so completely under a beautiful woman’s spell.

Before Alaine could answer, the publicist returned and knelt beside her chair. “We’re getting ready to start the program, Ms. Delacroix.”

“Oh—thanks.” Alaine dabbed her mouth with her napkin and placed it on the table beside her half-finished dessert. She turned back to Forbes. “I’ve got to get back to work. If you’re serious about dinner, your sister has my phone number.”

He watched her walk across the room, her burgundy gown hugging her curves in a way that made him wonder how she could possibly still be unmarried.

Ignoring the glares of the other men at the table, he turned his attention to his dessert, tuning out most of what the people at the microphone said as bachelors number twenty-five through six were named. Every so often, he glanced Alaine’s direction, fascinated to watch the intensity with which she applied herself to her job.

“And now, the moment we’ve all been waiting for.” The publicist had taken over at the microphone. “Will our top five bachelors please rise?”