and Kate, I'll work up a proposal."
"Fine." She'd given him the opening he'd been hoping for. "So how is Kate?"
"She's holding up. Of course, she occasionally drives Margo and me crazy. A born salesman Kate isn't," Laura said with feeling. "But she's competitive enough to make it work." Her smile softened, spread. "And if Margo or I so much as breathes on the books, she hisses. So that's a blessing. Still..."
"Still?"
"They damaged something inside her. I don't know how seriously yet, but she's too together, too controlled. She won't talk about it, won't even discuss what should be done. Just closes up when any of us try to draw her out. Kate used to be a champion tantrum thrower."
Now her fingers fidgeted restlessly, tapping a pencil, plucking at papers on her clipboard. "She's taking this without a fight. When Margo's career blew up and she lost her spot as the spokeswoman for Bella Donna, Kate wanted to organize a protest. She actually talked about going down to L.A. and picketing on Rodeo Drive."
Remembering put a smile back on Laura's face. "I never told Margo, because I managed to talk Kate out of it, but that's the way she is. She spits and claws and slaps when she's up against a personal problem. But not this time. This time she's pulled in, and I don't understand it."
"You're really worried about her," Byron realized.
"Yes, I am. So's Margo, or she would have strangled Kate half a dozen times by now. She wants us to fill out a sheet in something called a columnar pad every day."
"Once an accountant," he said.
"She carries one of those electronic memo pads in her pocket all the time. She's starting to talk about co-linking and getting on-line. It's terrifying." When he laughed, Laura caught herself and shook her head. "Ask a simple question..." she began. "Does everybody dump on you this way?"
"You didn't dump. I asked."
"Josh said you were the only man he wanted in this job. It's easy to see why. You're so different from Peter - " This time she didn't just catch herself, she clenched her teeth. "No, I'm not getting started on that. I'm already behind schedule and Ms. Bingham's waiting. Thanks for taking the orthodontists off my hands."
"My pleasure. You might not hear it very often, but you're an asset to Templeton."
"I'm trying to be."
As she walked away, Byron turned in the opposite direction, studying her careful and precise report as he went.
At the end of the day he met with Josh at Templeton Resort. The office there was a sprawling room on the executive level, with windows offering a view of one of the resort's two lagoonlike pools, surrounded by hibiscus in riotous bloom and a patio with redwood tables under candy-pink umbrellas.
Inside, it was built for comfort as well as business with deeply cushioned leather chairs, Deco lamps, and a stylish watercolor street scene of Milan.
"Want a beer?"
At the offer Byron merely sighed low and deep. He accepted the bottle from Josh, tipped it back. "Sorry to hit you at the end of the day. It's the first I could get away."
"There is no end of the day in the hotel business," Josh said.
"Your mother said that." Byron grinned. Susan Templeton was one of his favorite people. "You know if your father would just step aside like a gentleman, I'd beg her to marry me." He drank again, then nodded at the file he'd put on Josh's desk. "I started to fax this business over, then thought I'd just swing by personally."
Instead of going behind the desk, Josh picked up the file and stretched out in the chair opposite Byron. He skimmed the reports with varying reactions. A chuckle, a groan, a sigh, an oath.
"That sums up my feelings," Byron concurred. "I had a talk with Dr. Holdermen myself a few hours ago. He's still a guest. He's got temporary caps on and a real beaut of a black eye. My take is he doesn't have a case, but he's pissed off enough, and embarrassed enough, to pursue it."
Josh nodded, came to his own conclusions. "And your recommendation?"
"Let him."
"Agreed." Josh tossed the file onto his desk. "I'll pass it along to Legal with that recommendation. Now..." Josh settled back, the beer bottle cupped loosely in his hand, his eyes curious. "Why don't you tell me why you're really here? You can handle this kind of nuisance in your sleep."
Byron rubbed his chin. "We know each other too well."
"Ten years on