Orly slid another roll of paper out of the plastic tube he’d brought with him and spread it out on top of the blank one. The heavily notated and revised plan from New Year’s. Meredith stood and leaned over the table, resting her right knee on the seat of her chair.

Almost as if someone covered her back with a blanket, she felt Alaine’s presence behind her, trying to get a look at the plan. But the reporter didn’t interfere, didn’t come in closer, didn’t say anything. Grudgingly, Meredith admired her restraint.

After quite a bit of discussion, the location of the dance floor was set. Major and Orly started sketching in tables, determining the proper distribution of sizes and the spacing so the servers could easily move around them.

The room went suddenly dim. Meredith, Major, and Orly all stood and turned to see the cameraman taking his equipment apart.

Alaine had the good grace to look apologetic. “I’m sorry. It’s four thirty, so he has to get back to the studio.”

Meredith checked her watch. “I hadn’t realized it was so late. I guess we’ll just have to set up another time for that interview?”

“Yes. I’ll call you in the morning to schedule it.” Alaine helped wrap up cords and pack everything into large canvas bags.

“I can have my assistant call one of the building maintenance staff to help you carry all of that out.” Meredith took a few steps toward the door to the outer office.

“Oh no, it’s not necessary.” The cameraman waved her off. “I’ve got it.”

He did indeed manage to heave everything but one small bag up onto his large shoulders and carry it from the office.

“Do you mind if I come back up and continue taking notes?” Alaine asked. “After I help him take this to his car?”

“That will be fine.” Meredith returned to the schematic and pretended to be oblivious to the fact that Major and Orly both watched Alaine leave the room. “Okay, let’s see if we can at least get the preliminary layout finished by five o’clock.”

When she returned, Alaine stood beside the fourth chair at the table, notepad in hand, making occasional notations while Major and Orly drew in tables, then erased them, then drew them in somewhere else. If Meredith moved just a foot to her right, she might be able to see what Alaine was writing.

“Miss Guidry?” Corie appeared at the main door to the office. “Do you need anything before I go?”

Meredith almost laughed at her assistant’s formality. “No, Corie. Thanks. Have a good evening.”

“You, too.” The young woman grinned and closed the door behind her.

At five fifteen, Orly finally rolled the schematics and stuffed them in the tube. “That’s a good start, I b’lieve.”

“I think so. Putting the bandstand in front of the east windows will give us a lot more room, even though it means losing the view from that side.” Meredith pressed her hands to the small of her back and stretched away the stiffness from two hours’ leaning over the table.

“Guests are always happier when there’s more room between the tables.” Major stacked his papers and files. “And the servers are as well.”

“We’ll get together again next week to finalize the plan after the board’s tasting. I’ll e-mail you both to set up a time.”

Orly raised the plastic tube in salute. “See y’all later.”

“How do you spell his name?” Alaine asked.

“It’s actually Orlando Broussard. But he goes by Orly—O-r-l-y.” Meredith dropped her stack of work on her desk with a thud.

“Thanks. I really appreciate you letting me do this, Meredith. This is going to be a great way to publicize the Hearts to HEARTS charity and hopefully raise a lot more money for the hospital.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help.” Meredith smiled, though dreading the added stress having a reporter and cameraman around all the time would create.

“Mere, I’ll bring your take-out box back by on my way out if you’re going to be here for a little while.” Major hovered near the door.

“Yeah. I have some projects I need to write up for my staff, so I’ll be here another half hour or so.” She extended her right hand to Alaine. “It was very nice to meet you, and I look forward to working with you.”

“Same here. I appreciate everything. Really.” That high-wattage smile returned. It seemed much warmer than it had in Mom’s office.

Alaine turned to leave. “And Chef, I’m looking forward to seeing a lot more of you soon.”

“Why don’t you come up to my office, and we can look at my schedule.” Major motioned Alaine out the door ahead of him.

Her charitable feelings toward Alaine Delacroix vanished, crushed under a block of ice. Meredith had been right. Major would never feel that way about her. Ward seemed to like her, though she couldn’t quite figure out why. But how long would that last before he met an Alaine of his own?

Chapter 11

“I’m happy you had time in your schedule to meet with me today.” Alaine Delacroix finished fiddling with her camera and settled into the guest chair facing Meredith’s desk.

“I’m pleased to be able to accommodate you.” Meredith clasped her hands atop her desk blotter and tried to force her shoulders to loosen up.

“Chef O’Hara had so many wonderful things to say about you when I interviewed him last week—I couldn’t wait to come talk to the miracle worker myself.”

“I’m sure he was exaggerating.” Meredith didn’t know why she always felt the need to deflect compliments rather than just say thank you and move on. “So I take it the interview with him went well?”

“Yes—I aired a twenty-minute segment on today’s show as a promo for his cooking segment starting in a couple of weeks. And it made a nice follow-up to the part of the interview I aired on the New Year’s Eve Masquerade Ball.”

In spite of herself, Meredith returned Alaine’s perfect smile. She seemed pretty genuine. Maybe Meredith was overreacting to the reporter’s presence and Major’s reaction to her. Of course, that shouldn’t matter anyway, since she was supposed to be getting over Major.

“Okay—ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Meredith rearranged her hands on her blotter. “Should I look at you or the camera?”

The cycloptic lens stared at her over Alaine’s shoulder. “Let’s just have a conversation, you and I. Don’t think of this as an interview, just think of me as ... as a potential client who’s curious about the event you’re working on right now.”

Laughter released some of Meredith’s nervousness. “I think I can do that.”

“Great. Let’s start with the history of the Hearts to HEARTS banquet. How did Boudreaux-Guidry Enterprises get involved with a charity to raise money for the cardiac care unit at University Hospital?”

“About five years ago, my father, Lawson Guidry, suffered a heart attack. He was taken first to Bonneterre General, where his condition was misdiagnosed as severe angina, and he was sent home.”

Meredith picked up a pen and was about to start twirling it between her fingers until the little red light on the camera caught her attention. She put the pen back down. “Later that night, he passed out during dinner. This time, he was taken to University Hospital and immediately admitted to the cardiac care unit. Dr. Warner personally treated him and attended the surgeon during Dad’s bypass surgery. After that, the Warners became like part of our family.”

“When Dr. Warner passed away a year later, my parents wanted to do something to honor him and decided the best way was to help raise money for his research foundation, HEARTS.”

“Is that an acronym?”

“It is: Heart-disease Education, Awareness, Research, Treatment, and Survival.” She grinned, pleased with herself for being able to say the whole thing without having to stop to remember what any of the elements were.

Alaine segued into questions about the actual nuts and bolts of planning the events. Meredith was only too happy to talk about what went into organizing an event like this, being sure to give her event planners and Corie plenty of credit for all of the work they did to help her.

After an hour, Alaine changed her line of questioning. “Tell me a little about yourself, Meredith. How long have you been in this job?”

“I’ve been the executive director of events and facilities for about six years. Before that, I was an event planner under Anne Hawthorne when she was head of the department.”

“Anne Hawthorne—the wedding planner?” Alaine clicked her tongue. “If only I’d known you last year, I might have gotten that interview with her I kept trying for.” She laughed. “So Anne Hawthorne worked here before she started Happy Endings, Inc. How long did you work for Anne?”

“About four years. I started working here as soon as I finished grad school.”

“Let me guess—MBA?” Alaine grinned.

Meredith shook her head, laughing. “No. Not even close. Art history. My dad wanted me to follow in his footsteps and get my degrees in business, but I chose to go the fine arts route instead.”

Alaine’s dark eyes glowed from deep within. “I can’t believe it! I started out as an art history major—then I took a journalism class for a liberal arts requirement, and I was hooked. But whenever I got a chance, I took art classes to fulfill elective hours.”

“What movement did you want to study?” Meredith leaned forward on her elbows, thrilled at the rare opportunity to talk to someone who knew something about art.

“Impressionists. I have Monet and Renoir and Pissaro lithographs all over my townhouse—and a few framed postcards I got at the Louvre several years ago.”

“Oh,” Meredith half sighed, half groaned. “I’ve always wanted to go to Europe and tour all the great art museums.”